“It’s in the kitchen. On the counter,” he said without looking at me, as Caroline reached up and played with the bill of his cap. She knocked it off, revealing a head of messy hair—as messy as short, coarse hair could really be.
“Why is your purse—” Lucy began as Coach cut her off.
“Shea was sweet enough to bring me some tacos last night. After the game. Very nice of her.” He looked at me and said, “Thank you, again.”
“You’re welcome,” I said with a lump in my throat.
Lucy studied her father, then me, then her father again, finally saying, “You don’t look ready for church.”
“Was I supposed to be?”
Lucy shook her head and said, “It’s Sunday morning, isn’t it?”
“Since when do I go to church on Sunday morning if it’s not Easter or Christmas?”
“Since this past Wednesday. When we talked about you going to church with us and you said you’d make every effort to go,” she said, as I wondered if she, too, noticed that his ring had changed hands. Was that part of what she was upset about? Or was it only that I had come over last night? Or merely that her father wasn’t going to church? “Ring a bell?”
“Vaguely,” he said.
“So this is your every effort? Talking about Taco Bell in those clothes at …” Lucy glanced at her white ceramic watch. “Nine forty-five?”
Coach stared sheepishly back at her.
“Ugh. Okay. We have to go,” she said.
“Next week,” he mumbled.
“That’s the day after Texas,” I said, the words just slipping out. My tone of voice saying, So we all know that ain’t happening.
Caroline ran her hand over her grandfather’s whiskered face and said, “Ow. Your face hurts!”
“Yes, Care Bear. I need to shave today,” Coach said, then gently put her down and looked back at Lucy. “Where’s Neil, anyway?”
“He’s meeting us there,” she said.
Coach nodded, then glanced at me and said he’d be right back with my pocketbook. Once he had made his escape, Lucy stared at me intently, her eyes narrowed. “So was last night … work-related? For your story?”
I shook my head and admitted that I’d already turned my story in.
“So you really just stopped by to check on him?”
“And bring him Taco Bell,” I added, hoping I didn’t look as guilty as I felt.
Lucy studied me for a few seconds and finally nodded. “Y’all are friends. I get that.”
I said nothing.
“It’s sort of weird, though,” Lucy said, doing her toe-pointing thing left over from years of ballet.
“Weird?” I said, still watching her feet.
“That you’re friends. Apart from me. I mean, can you imagine me hanging out with your dad?”
“I don’t hang out with my dad,” I said. “But you’re friends with my mom.”
“Not like that. Not like … eating Taco Bell together late Saturday night … without you,” Lucy said. “But whatever, I really gotta go.”
“Me, too,” I said.
“Where are you going?” Lucy said.
“Home,” I said.
“Why?” she asked, a little on the shrill side. “Don’t let me chase you off. He’s not going to church. And what do you have to do today?”
“Well, watch the Cowboys,” I said, just as Coach returned with my bag. I took it from him and murmured my thanks.
“What time do they play?” Lucy asked. “The Cowboys?”
“Kickoff’s at three,” I said.
“Well, then? What’s the rush?”
“I was only coming to get my purse,” I said.
“Yes. But you’re here now. You should stay. Go on in. Have breakfast together.”
Lucy was definitely agitated, now boxing us into a corner. To protest any more than we already had would almost look worse than acquiescing, so he finally just looked at me and said, pleasantly, casually, “Shea. You’re welcome to stay. But I really don’t have much to eat in the way of breakfast. Other than raisin bran …”
“Okay,” I said stiffly. “I’ll come in and have a bowl of raisin bran. Thanks, Coach.”
Lucy nodded with a broad, forced smile, her lips reminding me of how they used to look in braces, stretched across her face. She stooped for a second to retie Caroline’s sash, now dragging on the ground, and neaten her French braids. Then she picked her daughter up and headed for her car. “All right, then,” she said over her shoulder. “You two enjoy your breakfast together.”
“I want to stay with Poppy and Shea,” Caroline protested.