Twice the Chance, page 20
Sadie, for once, didn’t have a response.
“Carl picked a fight at a bar. Do you know with who?” Jazz didn’t wait for Sadie to answer. “His brother-in-law. And do you know why? Because the bastard beat up his sister and broke her jaw and one of her arms.”
Sadie gasped. “Carl killed his sister’s husband?”
“He didn’t mean to.” Jazz no longer cared that it wasn’t her story to tell. “But during the fight his brother-in-law fell against the corner of a table and cracked his skull.”
“Oh, my gosh,” Sadie said. “I didn’t know that.”
“I’ll tell you something else you don’t know.” Jazz spoke in a raised voice. “The guy’s family didn’t shed any tears for him. You know that quarterback you watch on Fridays?”
“Arthur?” Sadie named the sophomore boy who had taken over as starter for the Faircrest football team.
“He’s the dead guy’s son,” Jazz said. “Arthur doesn’t even use his father’s last name. The boy doesn’t hold a thing against Carl. He’s proud to be a Rodriguez.”
“Because Carl was defending his mother,” Sadie finished.
“That’s right. I’m not saying what Carl did was right or that he shouldn’t have gone to prison. But I am saying he’s a good guy who’s paid his dues.”
Emotions chased across Sadie’s face but Jazz couldn’t identify them.
“So either go to the concert with Carl or tell him you’re not interested,” Jazz said. “But if you reject him, don’t do it because you’re afraid of him.”
“I’m not afraid of Carl,” Sadie said, this time with her characteristic spunk. “And I already told him I’d go to the concert with him.”
Jazz felt her mouth gape open. “You did? When?”
“About an hour ago,” replied Sadie. “After work. I remembered what you said about taking a chance. And I took one.”
“Without knowing what really happened in that bar?” Jazz challenged. Surely Carl must have told her.
“That’s right. I guess I didn’t need to know the details. Just like I don’t need to know what you did.”
The fight went out of Jazz. “Not everybody is that open-minded.”
“Then shame on them.” Sadie tilted her head to the side. “So don’t you want to know why I’m here?”
“You said you were here about Carl,” Jazz reminded her.
“I am. Sort of,” Sadie said. “I need a new outfit for the Lady Gaga concert on Saturday. Will you go shopping with me? The sooner, the better.”
Jazz had never been shopping with another woman in her adult life. The prospect sounded like it would be—she could hardly believe the word that popped into her head—fun.
“I can go after work any day as long as we’re finished by five,” Jazz said. The weekday start time at her telemarketing job was still six o’clock.
“Let’s go tomorrow! We can get you something new, too. Something that’ll make Matt drool.”
Just the mention of Matt’s name caused Jazz to flinch.
“Matt and I aren’t dating anymore.” The words came out in a rush, surprising Jazz. She hadn’t intended to tell the waitress about the breakup.
“I knew at work today that something was wrong!” Sadie put a hand on Jazz’s arm, her brows drawing together, her eyes turning huge. “What happened?”
A lump formed in Jazz’s throat. “I can’t talk about it.”
Sadie’s entire focus was on Jazz, as though nothing was more important than Jazz’s heartache. “Of course you can, honey.”
That was all it took. The story poured from Jazz. She couldn’t tell Sadie everything but she could relay part of it. The girl at the farmer’s market who’d asked about her crime. The realization that everybody at Faircrest High was gossiping about Matt dating an ex-con. Her fear that she could cost Matt his chance to run the athletic department.
“Oh, sweetie.” Sadie rubbed her arm. “And you think Matt was about to tell you he loved you?”
Jazz nodded sadly. Without another word, Sadie enveloped her in a hug, patting her gently on the back.
“You shouldn’t hug me,” Jazz said, sniffing. “I’m sweaty.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Sadie continued to hold her. “You need some comfort before I tell you you’re an idiot.”
Jazz pulled back. “Excuse me?”
“You’re an idiot, Jazz Lenox.” Sadie balanced her hands on her hips in that feisty way of hers. “You don’t give up the love of your life because people are gossiping about you.”
“The gossip’s true,” Jazz countered.
“It most certainly is not true that you’re the kiss of death because you’ve been in prison,” Sadie said. “Isn’t that what you just got through telling me about Carl?”
Jazz shook her head. “It’s not the same. Nobody’s job is in jeopardy if you date Carl.”
“Shouldn’t Matt get to decide whether you’re more important to him than a job?” Sadie asked. “You’re a good person, Jazz. It’s time you realized that.”
Matt had said something along those lines on more than one occasion. Were both Matt and Sadie right? Was it time Jazz forgave herself for her past and went after her future?
Her heart hammered. Could she go to Matt and apologize? Plead her case by telling him she loved him? Live happily ever after with the uncle of her biological twins?
Her hopes plummeted, and reality crashed over her like one of the ocean waves at Folly Beach. Yes, the impetus to breaking up with Matt had been the gossip. The underlying reason went far deeper.
Sadie was looking at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.
“You don’t understand,” Jazz said.
“Then explain it to me.”
Jazz envisioned Brooke and Robbie’s dear little faces. She remembered Matt telling her he’d advised his sister to insist on a closed adoption. She heard Bill Smith saying he wouldn’t take a DNA test, insisting it was best to leave well enough alone.
“I can’t.”
No matter how much it hurt, the best thing Jazz could do for Matt and the twins was to stay out of their lives.
WITH KICKOFF STILL twenty minutes away, the stands at the Faircrest High football game were nearly full on Friday night, the crowd buzzing with anticipation. If the Falcons pulled off the victory, they’d clinch home-field advantage for the playoffs.
Matt scanned the faces in the stands from the sideline of the field, noticing his father and Principal Middleton next to each other, deep in conversation. He continued his perusal until he located what he thought was the right section.
Yes, there were Carl Rodriguez and Sadie’s son, Benjy, with their heads angled together. Carl was pointing out something on the field, where the teams were going through warm-ups. Neither Sadie nor Jazz were with them.
“Matt!” It was a female voice, loud enough to be heard over the rumbling of the crowd. “Matt!”
Sadie stood on the other side of the fence that partitioned the field from the spectators’ area. Matt looked to the right of Sadie, to the left of her and behind her. She was alone.
He masked his disappointment and joined her at the fence. She wore jeans with a Faircrest High sweatshirt and carried boxes of popcorn and bottled water.
“Hey, Sadie,” he said. “Ready for the game?”
“Oh, yes! My son and I are here with Carl.” She pointed to the area of the stands Matt had already scouted out. “We love watching Arthur play. He’s so exciting!”
“Nobody will argue with you there.” Danny had been one of the prime beneficiaries of Arthur Rodriguez’s stellar play. Danny was averaging about three catches a game, a good number for a high school wide receiver.
“I asked Jazz to come along but she said no,” Sadie announced. “I knew you were wondering.”
No use in denying what Sadie had found so obvious. “Thanks.”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” Sadie began. “Okay, I definitely shouldn’t tell you this, but Jazz is hurting. She misses you.”
Hope leapt inside Matt before reality stomped it back down. “Jazz broke up with me.”
“She told me,” Sadie said, which was a surprise. Matt had seen firsthand how carefully Jazz guarded her privacy. “She was afraid she’d cost you your job.”
“There’s more to it than that.” Matt couldn’t stop wondering about the terrible secret Jazz claimed she could never tell him. “Jazz was very clear she didn’t want to see me again.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Matt. Believe me, she’s torn up about the whole thing. I can tell.”
“Hey there, little brother.” Terry appeared beside Sadie at the fence, carrying multiple soft-drink cans. She smiled at Sadie. “Sorry to interrupt but I need to tell Matt his niece’s soccer game tomorrow morning was switched to eleven.”
Matt did some quick mental calculations. He already knew he’d have to miss Robbie’s game, which was scheduled for the same early morning hour as his own. He should be able to catch the end of Brooke’s, though.
“Thanks, Terry,” Matt said. “This is Sadie. She works at Pancake Palace with Jazz. Sadie, my sister, Terry.”
“Oh! A friend of Jazz’s! Nice to meet you,” Terry said. “Isn’t it just awful about her and Matt breaking up?”
“Yes! We were just talking about that.” Sadie and Terry didn’t resemble each other except in speech patterns, where they were eerily similar. They’d probably make great friends. “In fact, I was going to tell Matt if he wanted to run into Jazz accidentally on purpose he should come to the Harvest Festival tomorrow.”
“I’ve heard about that festival! It’s supposed to be wonderful,” Terry said. “Don’t three or four elementary schools get together and put it on?”
“Right,” Sadie said. “It’s gotten so big we’re holding it at Ashley Greens Park this year. My son Benjy’s so excited. I’m in charge of the apple pie bake-off, and I talked Jazz into being one of the judges.”
“I make a terrific apple pie,” Terry boasted.
The Faircrest High fight song blared from the stands behind Sadie and Terry, where the marching band had set up. Terry pointed to her ear, then waved at Matt. He got the message that more conversation was fruitless, although the two women managed to talk to each other as they headed toward the stands.
Sadie had already revealed the most pertinent piece of information, anyway. Jazz was upset over dumping him.
That welcome thought stayed with Matt throughout the entire game, a squeaker that Faircrest won in the last minute when Arthur Rodriguez broke free and outraced the defense for a thirty-five-yard touchdown.
Matt oversaw the celebration and helped supervise the exodus of fans until the stadium was empty except for the workers picking up trash and the parents closing up the concession stand. He ventured onto the field to retrieve a plastic bag blowing end-over-end in the wind, looked up and saw his father.
Matt waited where he was, plastic bag in hand, until his father reached him. “Dad. What are you still doing here?”
“I stayed to talk to my son.”
“Danny?” Matt asked. His brother, who’d made a gorgeous over-the-shoulder catch for a touchdown in the first half, probably hadn’t left the locker room yet.
“No, not Danny, although that was some fantastic catch.” His father’s chest puffed out the way it always did when he discussed Danny and football. “I need to talk to you.”
“Where’s Mom?” Matt asked. His mother made it a point not to miss any of the games her children played, whether it be football or soccer.
“She got a ride home with friends.” His father gestured to the home team’s bench. “These knees are aching. Mind if we sit?”
“Of course not.” Matt was aware of the damage football had done to his father’s knees, as was everybody with more than a passing acquaintance to Len Caminetti.
“Don’t look so serious, son.” His father’s chest was still sticking out. “Ray told me tonight he’s going to offer you the A.D. job permanently.”
Matt had the answer to what his father and Principal Ray Middleton had been discussing during the game.
“This is what we’ve worked for.” His father slapped him on the back. “It’s great news, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Matt agreed.
“Then why don’t you look happy about it?”
Because now that Matt was on the verge of achieving his goal of becoming the head of the athletic department, the reality of giving up coaching the high school soccer team sunk in. He’d have to surrender the head coaching job on the youth team, too. There simply weren’t enough hours in his day to do everything.
But of course Matt had known all along he’d have to pay a price for success.
“I am happy,” Matt said, not sure he believed that.
“Me, too,” his father said. “I’m proud, too.”
Matt’s heart swelled. He’d been waiting to hear those words for a lifetime.
“It was a stroke of luck that I ran into Ray tonight,” his father continued, seemingly unaware that he’d just told Matt he was proud of him for the first time in his life. “He didn’t know you weren’t dating Jazz anymore.”
Everything inside Matt stilled. “How did you know about that?”
“Your sister,” his father answered. “She called and asked you to double date and you told her you broke up.”
“So you’re saying I wouldn’t be offered the job if I was still dating Jazz?” Matt asked.
His father nodded. “That’s the impression I got.”
“What if I got Jazz back?” Matt hadn’t consciously realized he meant to try until this minute. The decision must have been percolating for some time. It went against Matt’s nature to give up on the woman he loved, especially because he was almost positive she loved him in return. She’d done something she thought was unforgivable but he’d make her understand that nothing could make him stop loving her. “What then?”
His father’s eyes narrowed. “Considering all the flak Ray has been getting, I expect he’d hire someone else and you’d go back to being assistant A.D.”
“You wouldn’t like that, would you, Dad?” Matt asked.
Deep furrows appeared in his father’s forehead. “You wouldn’t like it, either. You’re a go-getter. I can’t see you continuing to work under someone else.”
“You’re right,” Matt said. “I don’t want to be assistant A.D.”
His father let out a deep breath. “Good, then it’s settled.”
“I think it is,” Matt said slowly, “because I don’t want to be the A.D., either.”
“For cripes’ sake, son! Is this about that woman? Now, don’t get me wrong, I like Jazz. Everybody in the family does. But you don’t even know if you can get her back!”
“I still don’t want to be the A.D. at Faircrest,” Matt said, surprising himself as much as his father. The sentiment had been brewing for months but this was the first time he’d admitted it to himself.
“What? Where’s this coming from?”
Matt thumped the area over his heart. “Right here. I’m not cut out for school politics. I don’t want to be, either.”
“But…but what will you do?”
“I don’t know yet, Dad. I need some time to think about it.” Matt shrugged. “Who knows? I might coach soccer full-time. Would you be proud of me then?”
“I…I…” His father threw up his hands. “What does me being proud of you have to do with anything?”
“A lot.” Matt rose and looked down at his father. “You should have told me you were proud of me before today, Dad.”
“I did!” His father scratched his head. “Didn’t I?”
“Not once,” Matt said. “But you know what? I’ve come to realize something. I love you, Dad. But I’ve gotta stop thinking about what would make you happy and do what makes me happy.”
Getting back together with Jazz was the first item on Matt’s list. The prospect would have seemed unlikely a few short hours ago. It didn’t anymore.
All that was left was to figure out how to go about it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MATT CUPPED HIS HANDS around the sides of his mouth the following morning, enabling him to yell louder than anyone else watching the youth soccer game. He was even getting more volume than Terry.
One of his niece’s teammates had just sent the ball squirting down the right side of the field with a pretty kick. If Brooke caught up to the rolling ball, she’d have a terrific scoring opportunity.
“Go, Brooke!” Matt shouted. “Dig deep!”
The game was tied at one goal apiece. Time had already been running short when Matt arrived after coaching his own team to a tie. There couldn’t have been more than a minute left, probably even less.
“Run faster, Brooke!” Matt bellowed.
His niece had such exceptional speed that she could beat most boys her age in a footrace, one of the reasons the coach had moved her from goal to the field. Yet Brooke appeared to be out for a jog. Her red ponytail was barely swishing.
The opposing team’s defender was an average mover at best. The defender outraced Brooke to the ball and booted it to midfield. The referee lifted his wrist and checked the time on his watch. He put the whistle hanging from a lanyard around his neck to his mouth and blew three times. The game was over.
“You’ll get ’em next time, Brooke,” Terry yelled.
Matt thought his niece could have gotten ’em this time. The girl didn’t seem to realize that. Brooke slapped palms with opposing team members, grinning like she’d gotten the game winner. She skipped to the sidelines where one of the mothers was handing out juice boxes.
“Pacific cooler!” Brooke enthused. “My favorite flavor!”
She was clearly more excited about the juice than she had been the scoring opportunity. Matt couldn’t relate. At Brooke’s age, he’d been so in love with soccer he’d rejoiced after every win and taken losses hard. He still adored the game.
Did Brooke even like soccer? The possibility that she might not had never entered Matt’s mind until Jazz raised the subject at the Coastal Carolina Fair. Matt had rejected the notion then but a seed of doubt had taken root. Now it sprouted.
