The One & Only(146)

“Maybe so,” I said, shocked that I was even entertaining a thought of leaving not only Walker but the entire state of Texas, something I could never have imagined only a few weeks ago. “I do need a job.”

“Well, I’m not worried about you finding one. And I’m sure you have plenty of contacts in Texas …”

“You’d be surprised,” I said. “Very few that don’t involve Coach Carr.”

“And that’s another thing …” he said.

My stomach instantly knotted.

“Can we talk about him for a second?”

I shrugged, steeling myself. “Sure.”

“Maybe I followed my heart a little too much along the way,” he said. “And your heart can definitely get you into trouble … But, if I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have you.”

This wasn’t the angle I’d expected, and I felt confused as I said, “Are you talking about Mom? That was following your heart?”

“Well, sure. Of course. What else would that have been?”

“What else? Well, it could have been a cheap affair with a woman you met on the road, then got knocked up before your wife divorced you … So you married her to do the right thing. And because Mom has a way of talking people into stuff.”

“Wow. That’s quite a sordid spin on my life. And yours.”

“Well? Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You are wrong, actually. Believe it or not, I really loved your mom. Fell madly in love with her. But we just couldn’t make it work. Oil and water. Square peg, round hole. So I gave up. And instead of starting over and potentially screwing up a third situation, I went back to take care of Bronwyn and Astrid. Tried to fix some of my scorched earth.”

It was the first time I’d seen the situation from his point of view, and also the first time I hadn’t seen it as a head-to-head competition between the respective mother-daughter teams.

“So are you comparing Coach to Mom? Or Astrid?”

“Neither,” he said. “I’m just saying … follow your heart. Even if it sometimes makes an absolute mess of your life … And, for God’s sake, you have to go to this bowl game. This is the girl who started making road trips with the team in the third grade.”

“Second,” I said.

“Exactly. It’d be nuts for you to miss this game.”

I nodded, knowing he was right. “Are you going?”

“If you want me to. If you need me to. But if not, I’ll just watch it at home.”

“Not really the same as being there,” I said. “The crowds … the noise … the energy. It’s electric.”

“Aha. You see? Listen to yourself. You’ll regret it if you don’t go. Separate your feelings about Clive and Lucy and go support your team,” he said as we approached Wollman Rink.

I nodded but couldn’t help thinking that Coach and Lucy were my team, at least they always had been, and, furthermore, it was absolutely impossible to separate my feelings for Coach from Walker and the biggest game of our lives. From anything in my life, really—which was the whole problem.

“Okay. I’ll go,” I said, glancing around the ice rink, comforted by the thought that very few people in the crowd probably cared two licks about the Walker–Alabama game.

“Good. Great,” he said.

“But then I think I’ll come back to the city and talk to your people,” I said. “About those jobs.”

“Really?” my dad said, surprised.

“Yes. Really,” I said, thinking that this following-your-heart stuff was turning out to be pretty overrated—and that maybe it was time to try another approach.





Forty-six





It is 5:20 P.M. Pacific Time, ten minutes until kickoff inside the Rose Bowl. I am in the stands with Lucy, Lawton, my mother, and Miller, who came to Pasadena without a ticket. Up until two hours ago, he had been searching for one from scalpers, but at the last minute he inherited Neil’s ticket when Caroline got a stomach bug and Lucy decided she couldn’t be left in a hotel room with a random sitter. Lucy still made him beg for it.

“This ticket’s worth all the groveling. So freakin’ sweet!” Miller shouts over the din of two manic marching bands and ninety-two thousand frenzied fans, all wearing either red or teal.

I nod in agreement. Our seats are insane, what you’d expect for the head coach’s family—right on the fifty-yard line, twenty-some rows back, with a sweeping view of the western hills rising above the stadium. Even the weather is scripted—warm with gentle breezes and clear skies. A perfect night for a national championship game.