Heaven and Hell (67 page)

And he was loving it.

And because my husband was loving it, I
loved it more.

Even before Sam and I got back from England,
as ever, when Sam made a decision, Sam didn’t mess around. He
called the president of the School Board in Kingston and told him
he was interested in coaching the Wildcats. As I guessed, they were
all over it. When Sam and I got back, Sam dove in. The old head
coach stayed involved for half the season and then (gratefully,
seriously, Sam was not wrong, he was all about fishing) bowed
out.

This caused a furor not only in Kingston but
nationwide. America
adored
the idea of Sampson Cooper moving
from being a national hero to being a high school football coach.
They thought it was awesome. They thought it was cool. They thought
it showed exactly the kind of man he was, no network television, no
big man stunts, it wasn’t about keeping his celebrity; it was about
doing whatever the hell he wanted to do. It was pure Sam.

They were right.

However, this meant there was intense
scrutiny on the Wildcats once they entered the season.

They lost their first four games, the first
two of these they lost soundly and Sam and the boys took those hits
very publicly, very widely and, surprisingly, viciously.

I was terrified. The sniggering tone of the
commentary was not at all to my liking, as it wouldn’t be. I
worried for Sam and I also worried about his boys who were not used
to that kind of attention.

Sam didn’t react at all. He was focused. And
he managed to keep his boys focused.

After that, they didn’t lose a single game.
Not one. And in the end, they kicked ass.

It. Was.
Awesome!

Unfortunately the early losses meant they
didn’t see post-season play.

I had a feeling they would this year.

Incidentally, watching Sam coach and his
boys play, I learned to love football.

But only the high school kind.

At the end of the football season, the
School Board approached Sam with the offer to be the school’s
Athletic Director. The old coach held that position too and they
had yet to fill it.

Sam took it. It meant more time, more money
(not that that mattered) and it was something he enjoyed.

Therefore, we were at the school all the
time.

Yes,
we
.

Sam did his gig alone with his boys at
practice but I came to all of his games. I also went with Sam to
all the other sporting events at the school. Girls volleyball,
track, girls and boys basketball, baseball, softball, wrestling. We
even went to away games, matches and meets. Sam was serious about
the job, was hands on and he paid attention.

I’d never been into sports but high school
athletics was something else. It was about heart. It was about team
and school spirit. It was totally amazing.

So I became queen of Kingston athletics to
Sam’s king. In other words, the Booster Club approached me to
become their chair, I took it on and I was all about bake sales,
setting up carnivals and planning all-you-can eat spaghetti
dinners. The kids needed equipment, decent uniforms, stuff like
that, and there was never enough money. So a bunch of parents and I
went about raising money.

I found I had a knack for it but not only
that; it was all kinds of fun.

This wasn’t to say I didn’t investigate the
idea of opening a shop in Kingston. I looked into this. I even went
out to California for a week with Luci and hung with Maris at her
ultra-awesome shop in Malibu.

And I didn’t like it much.

It just was not for me.

Luci
loved
it.

So
she
opened a shop in Kingston.

Obviously, considering her fashion
connections and good taste, it was a hit. And I helped her out,
working part-time which mostly meant hanging out with Luci,
gossiping, giggling, trying on (and, often, taking home) gorgeous
clothes and sometimes waiting on customers or tidying racks and
shelves. But mostly I spent my time cleaning the house, grocery
shopping, cooking when Sam wasn’t in the mood (my man did most of
the cooking, what could I say? – he liked it and he was good at
it), taking my dog for walks, going to sporting events with Sam and
arranging fund-raisers so the kids in the sports program could have
kickass shit.

I was particularly pleased with the
volleyball outfits the girls would have this year. They were top of
the line, the brand Olympians wore. They cost a blooming fortune
but the carnival made a killing. And they were worth every penny.
Freaking phenomenal. The girls were in fits of glee.

See? Told you I had a knack for it.

Sam had also taken on another project,
something he shared with me in bed one night not long after we got
home from England. It was something he shared with me he’d been
kicking around for years, even before he quit playing pro ball.

He wanted to do a summer football camp for
underprivileged boys like the boys he’d grown up with, like the boy
he used to be. A minimal number of slots, the boys had to apply but
they wouldn’t pay, not even for travel. Three weeks of training and
not just in football. It would be a kind of football boot camp.
Part sports training, part military training. It wasn’t just going
to be about physical fitness and learning to play the game. It was
about dedication, loyalty, team, honor, reaching inside and finding
that part of you that you could latch onto to pull yourself out of
the circumstances life thrust you in and find something better.

I loved this idea. Loved it enough that I
gave three million dollars to help endow it. Sam put in the rest.
Then he recruited buddies in the game as well as buddies from the
military who not only helped process the applications to select
which boys would get to go but also to run the camp.

And, last July, using Kingston High as their
base, Sam and a bunch of NFL and Army badasses inaugurated the
Sampson and Kia Cooper Football Camp. I was against my name being
added but Sam did it anyway.

There it was. Sam made a decision, acted on
it and, really, there wasn’t anything to complain about. So I
didn’t.

This also caused an outpouring of love for
Sam and the men who gave their time. Sam ignored it. The NFL
players involved didn’t and their agents got them a lot of play in
the media for it. This was good seeing as donations started coming
in. So Sam and I started a fund, got not-for-profit status and we
got so much money, next year, we were going to be able to take
twice as many boys. Not to mention, younger NFL players heard about
it, dug the idea and approached Sam about being involved.

It was cool.

This also, since I managed the
administrative part of it, took my time.

I finished with the tray, picked it up and
took it out to the deck. There were tables set up against the
screened porch, all groaning with food. I’d learned last year that
high school football players really didn’t care if the potato
salad, macaroni salad and brownies were homemade. They’d eat
anything, lots of it and think it was the bomb.

So, except for forming a gazillion hamburger
patties, slicing veggies and laying stuff out, the work was done.
In other words, it wasn’t as much work as last year.

I didn’t tell Sam this. If he knew, I might
not be able to call in reinforcements next year and I liked our
beach house filled with family.

I put the tray down and turned my eyes to
Sam who was standing with Hap and a couple of his boys at the
grill. My gaze moved to one of the boys because he had Memphis in
his arms, a Memphis was wriggling and licking. Memphis, not that it
was a surprise, totally loved Sam’s team. She also liked to go to
the games with me. This meant she could run around the field after
the games were over, chasing the boys while they played with
her.

Memphis’s version of heaven.

The boy holding my dog, Wes, was a senior,
he was an excellent running back, he had a steady girl and he
clearly didn’t care that liking a King Charles spaniel might mean a
hit to his street cred. Then again, none of the boys did. This was
likely because Sam didn’t and his kids, every one, thought he
walked on water.

He couldn’t walk on water. But he could do
everything else.

I grinned at Wes then my eyes moved to Sam
to see his on me.

So I grinned at him.

I watched his face get soft and his eyes get
warm and intense.

Then he grinned back.

Beautiful.

Never, not ever, would I get used to his
beauty. I knew this and this made me happy.

Then I felt fingers clamp on my arm and my
head turned to see Luci had hold of me. She looked serious, she
looked kind of pissed and she looked like she was on a mission.

Oh man.

I suspected this was going to happen.

And I suspected this because, three weeks
ago, something happened.

What, I did not know.

What I did know was that Hap was down for
the weekend, he stayed with Luci at her new place which was only
ten houses away from Sam and my place. We’d all gone to Skip’s
(incidentally, after what went down with Luci then with Sam and me,
Skip had lifted the ban on Hap having his ass at a picnic table at
the Shack which was a relief since we spent a lot of time at the
Shack), we’d all had a sandwich and accompanied this by having a
few drinks. We’d then moved the party to Luci’s, Sam and I left and
then well… something happened.

I just didn’t know what.

But I suspected.

Luci didn’t share. Hap didn’t share. But
before whatever it was went down, Hap came most weekends. After
what went down, he stopped. He also mostly stopped communicating.
As did Luci. They were avoiding Sam and me.

Then Luci came by our house the weekend
after. Hap was supposed to be there but he’d called Sam to say he
wasn’t coming. For some reason, when Luci heard this, she got
pissed.

But she still didn’t share.

The next weekend, the same. Hap didn’t make
plans to come, Luci called me, found out there was no Hap and I
heard her voice get tight over the phone.

Now, with the barbeque, Hap couldn’t avoid
coming. He also couldn’t avoid Luci. Though he was doing a bang up
job trying even though she was right there.

When she arrived, it wasn’t lost on me she’d
made an effort on her appearance. And for Luci this meant her sexy,
sultry, exotic beauty was off the charts. Heck, I’d seen some of
Sam’s boys running into each other, the deck railing and furniture
because they were mesmerized by her beauty.

Hap was immune.

And obviously Luci didn’t like this.

As for me, I had a bad feeling about it.

“I need to speak with you,” she hissed then
didn’t give me the chance to tear free and run screaming to the
beach. She pulled me to the side walkway and down to the drive.
Then she stopped us and wasted not a second before ordering, “Okay,
I need you to go back up there and find some way to bring Hap down
to me.”

Uh-oh.

“What?” I asked. “Why?”

“Something happened,” she announced.

Oh man.

“I think I got that, sweetie,” I told her
quietly. “For a year, Hap’s down every weekend. For the last three
weeks, we don’t see him and barely hear from him and this is all
after we left him with you. What went down?”

Again, she wasted not a second and informed
me bluntly, “I made a pass at him.”

I blinked.

Okay, I was thinking that was what happened
or something akin to that but for some reason having this
assumption confirmed threw me for a loop.

“What?” I asked.

“You and Sam left, Hap and I kept drinking
then we drank more. We were laughing and talking but he wasn’t
doing anything,
” she griped, definitely griped, all sexy,
sultry, deep-throated, Italian-accented griping. It was cute coming
from Luci. It still threw me.

“What do you mean, doing anything?” I
asked.

“He wasn’t hitting on me!” she snapped.

There it was.

This was bad. I knew it. This was definitely
bad.

“So you did,” I whispered, worried.

“Of course I did. I learned not to play
games. Not to waste time. So I kissed him.”

Oh man.

“What did he do?” I asked.

“He kissed me back, of course.”

I blinked again.

That wasn’t what I expected to hear. I
expected Hap would deflect her pass and he was avoiding her in an
effort to keep deflecting it.

Clearly, I was wrong.

“Seriously?” I queried and her brows shot
together.

“Yes,
seriously.
Of course,
seriously.
It was a good kiss!”

Oh man!

“How good?” I asked.

“So good, he picked me up, carried me
inside, put me on the couch, joined me there and we did more than
kiss.
A lot more.
”

Oh man!

“Luci –” I started but she kept talking.

“And that was good too.
Very good.
Unbelievably
good.
Then, when it was getting
amazingly
good and close to
phenomenally
good,
suddenly, out of nowhere, he stops, gets to his feet, mutters,
‘Luc, so sorry, so fuckin’ sorry,’ and
he leaves!
”

Exasperated, she threw her hands up on the
last two words.

I got closer and grabbed both of them.

Then I did the only thing I could do.

I gave it to her straight.

“Honey, Hap…” I shook my head. “You can’t go
there.”

“Why?” she snapped.

“Because he’s Hap,” I explained but
obviously this was not enough of an explanation.

I knew this when she snapped again,
“So?”

“He was tight with Gordo,” I reminded
her.

She nodded her head sharply and repeated a
curt, “So?”

I shook my head gently and kept explaining,
“So, to Hap, no matter what, you’re Gordo’s and always will
be.”