Stork (28 page)

Early in the second quarter, Pedro handed off for a series of successful running plays that got us close enough for a field goal. The kick was good, and we were up three–zero. Our fans went crazy. I had to hand it to the Norse Falls Falcons. They had spirit to spare.

With a minute to go until half time, Pedro threw a pass to a receiver downfield. The throw seemed short and about to be intercepted. Just as the ball had wrung what it could out of its draft of air, a wind sworled down the field. The ball tipped off the fingers of the Pinewood player and into the hands of our receiver, who ran it in for a touchdown. The crowd went nuts.

Sitting on the bleachers, I discovered that I had a new skill. When Jack was present, I had the uncanny split-screen ability to watch both him and whatever it was I was supposed to be focusing on. Jack paced the sidelines the entire time Pedro was at the helm. When Pedro threw, Jack’s arms went up. When Pedro got crunched, Jack’s entire body balled into something small and hard. And on that last play, the one where the wind marched down the field, I noticed something odd. Whereas the entire stands seemed to hold their breath as it seemed a turnover was inevitable, Jack appeared to bellow something, though I couldn’t hear what, given the distance separating us.

Special teams took the field, and I watched Jack chest-bump Pedro when he jogged to the bench. Our kick for the extra point was good, which put us up ten to nothing and sent the crowd into a frenzy. The team ran off the field for half time to a roar of approval from the entire home side of the bleachers.

My dad high-fived Penny, telling her, “That boy’s got game.” Penny puffed up with happiness.

The half-time show began. Matthew played trumpet for the marching band, and Tina told us how hard they’d worked on a new routine. I saw my dad snicker a little bit when one of the twirlers smacked a member of the horn section with her baton. Thank goodness for the rubber tips. She got some serious air speed on that projectile. My dad did manage to keep his amusement mostly to himself. I could tell, though, that it took some restraint. I liked the show. I liked how they kept it simple. Our marching band in California had gone to state finals three years in a row and was known for their theatrical productions complete with moving sets, costumed characters, and complicated themes. Maybe CliffsNotes or a doctorate on Wagner would have helped, but, personally, I never got it.

The Homecoming court was introduced, followed by the king and queen. Monique traversed the field on Jack’s arm. I didn’t like it. Nor did I like it when my dad said, “Now, there’s a pretty girl.” Though even I had to admit she looked very attractive with her curls bouncing under her crown as she glided over the grass, and her belted jacket accentuated her curves. I took comfort in the fact that Jack looked straight ahead and escorted her somewhat robotlike to their spot in the semicircle. Though his stiffness could have been from the pads — he, as well as two of the four king’s men, Wade the biggest hulk of them all, wore their football uniforms.

“So that’s him?” My dad craned his neck for a view down to the field.

“Yep.”

“I never did get to meet him, you know, five years ago. Not formally, anyway. Saw him in the hospital, but he was just a skinny kid, and looked half-dead at that.”

I was surprised how much my dad’s remark cut. To hear Jack described as “half-dead” sent a blast of cold mist down my spine. It did. Fog crept out from under my pant legs.

“You cold, hon?” my dad asked.

“A little.”

He shook his head. “How’re you ever going to make it through a winter here?”

I looked out to the field, where Jack was jogging off to rejoin his team. That’s how.

The second half was scoreless. Jack did manage to pass for some decent yardage, but the team was stopped twice just shy of the five-yard line. I was a little let down. Maybe because I’d heard about Jack’s golden arm. Maybe because I had some silly girlish notion of showing my dad my shiny new toy. Maybe because it just seemed like there had been a couple of missed opportunities. Twice it seemed Jack had his sights on an open wide receiver and had even stepped back for the pass, but then had changed his mind and ran it himself or passed to someone in the thick of things. He constantly had his eye on the scoreboard and seemed to be checking on our ten-point lead and the time left on the clock. And the defense, led by Wade, was on fire. Pinewood couldn’t find a hole. We beat them ten to nothing. The moment that final second ticked down, Jack hoisted Pedro onto the team’s shoulders.

After the game, Jack met up with my dad and me at the Kountry Kettle. The place was packed with people celebrating the big win. Jack slid into the booth next to me, his jeans sidling up along mine.

“Great game,” my dad said.

“Thank you.”

My dad held out his hand. “Greg Leblanc.”

They shook. “Jack Snjosson.”

I could tell my dad was impressed by Jack’s handshake. My dad put a lot of stock in handshakes, as well as shoes. It was a good thing Jack’s beat-up sneakers weren’t visible under the tabletop.

“You boys sure can play both sides of that ball.”

“My friend Pedro had a great first half. I knew he could do it.”

I glanced over to where Pedro, Penny, Matthew, and Tina had a table at the back of the restaurant. Kids, and even adults, were stopping by to high-five or shake Pedro’s hand.

Jaelle bustled over with two mugs in one hand and a coffee pot in the other. “Coffee, Ice?” she asked.

“Ice?” my dad asked.

“Her nickname,” Jaelle said. “That hair is ice-white.”

Jack lifted a strand of my hair that curled just under my chin. He rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. “Ice. I like that.”

A look of surprise batted my dad’s lashes. He wasn’t used to seeing me in this way.

“Yes. Coffee. Please. It was freezing in those bleachers,” I said. Jack, with what seemed like pure instinct, dropped his arm over my shoulder and rubbed. Again, my dad looked uncomfortable. I didn’t move away or shake Jack off. He was a part of my life in Norse Falls. My dad needed to know that.

“How about you, Greg? Coffee? It’s a fresh pot.” Thank God for Jaelle and her diverting could-sell-toothpaste smile.

A frown weighted the sides of his mouth. He was not a big fan of the Kountry Kettle’s coffee. But then he returned Jaelle’s winning grin. “Why not?”

Jaelle turned to Jack. “The usual?”

He looked a little flustered, but then he lifted his shoulders and said, “Sure.”

“Crazy night,” I said to Jaelle. “How’re you doing?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she said with a swipe of her free hand.

My dad watched as she walked away. “There’s something about that girl I like,” he said.

My eyes widened. “Dad, she’s married.”

He shook his head at me. “Not like that. I saw the ring. Not to mention the age difference. But there’s something very efficient yet personable about her.”

Jaelle returned and set a very large glass of milk in front of Jack.

“That’s your usual?” I asked.

He smiled sheepishly. “I don’t do caffeine.”

“Never?” My dad’s tone was incredulous.

“Never,” Jack replied.

“Not even Coke or Pepsi?”

“Nope.” Jack drank half his milk in a single gulp.

My dad had an amused look on his face. I just hoped he continued to be kind. “So what’s good here?” he asked. I recommended the potpie, Jack the meatloaf. We talked about the game again. Jack couldn’t say enough about Pedro’s contribution and how he finally conquered his nerves as backup quarterback.

“So if he’s the backup, why didn’t you start?” my dad asked.

“I was benched for missed practices.”

I wanted to pipe in and elaborate, but how would that sound? Well, Dad, there’s a little more to it than that. I was careless, put myself in a compromising position — and then lied about it, riling Jack up in the process. To complicate things further, Jack and I have been on some sort of destiny-ordained collision course. Things, bizarre things, happen when we’re together. We’re either each other’s curse or lucky charm. He thought the former, so left to protect me. But don’t worry, Dad; I’m pretty sure it’s the latter. Though I’m still not too crazy about big black birds.

My dad let it drop, but I could tell he was disappointed. “And your family has a local farm?”

“Yes.”

“That must be a lot of work.”

“Harvest is always rough. Coordinating the extra hands and delivery schedules, but we’re lucky to have a successful orchard. Some of the smaller farms in the state haven’t made it.”

My dad launched into a Darwinian theory of economic policy, an evolve-or-get-out-of-the-way view of things. I could hear myself — the way I’d probably sounded that night in Afi’s store.

When Jaelle returned, my dad ordered a chef’s salad, no ham, no egg, dressing on the side. He took a quick sip of his coffee and grimaced. “So, Jack, has Kat told you about my business plans?”

“A little. That’s great news about the factory being leased.” I had told Jack about the wind turbines earlier that day. He had been genuinely excited about the prospect of new families coming to town.

“Should liven things up a little around here,” my dad said.

“The school district sure could use a boost in enrollment,” Jack replied.

“I imagine some good-paying jobs wouldn’t hurt, either,” my dad said.

“Did somebody mention jobs?” Jaelle topped off my dad’s cup.

“I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet, Jaelle,” I said. “My dad’s going to refit Hulda’s old factory to produce wind turbines.”

“Are you hiring?” Jaelle asked.

“I will be in a few months.” My dad looked appraisingly at Jaelle. “What kind of experience do you have?”

It took Jaelle about two minutes to get herself an interview as my dad’s office manager. And another one minute to get Russ and a few of his crew interviews for the turbine assembly floor. Jaelle walked away with a very pronounced sashay.

“I knew there was something I liked about her,” my dad said. I honestly didn’t know if he was talking about her negotiation skills or the swing in her hips. Nor did I want to know.

“Here’s a good-looking group.” I looked up to find Wade standing over our table. “Great game, Jack.” Wade held out his hand.

“Thanks. You, too.” Jack shook, but his posture was rigid.

“Looking forward to seeing you two at my party tomorrow.”

Jack and I exchanged looks. We had talked about it earlier. How would it look if we were the only ones not to go? Was this new-and-improved Wade to be trusted? After much debate — nothing had been settled.

“We’ll be there,” Jack said, his voice low and deep.

Matter settled.

I introduced Wade to my dad, who complimented the defense. Wade swelled like a balloon animal. “The only thing we let through was their white flag.”

I watched Wade saunter off and join a large group of football players, cheerleaders, and other various members of the school royalty — Queen Monique included.

Jaelle delivered our meals, and Jack tucked into a big scoop of mashed potatoes.

My dad ladled dressing onto his salad. “So, Jack, you’re a senior, right?”

Jack swallowed and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Yes.”

“Any plans after graduation?”

Even I hadn’t asked Jack this. I knew my dad was curious about the guy and had my best interests in mind, but it felt like a challenge.

“College.”

Gotta love a guy who boiled things down to a single word.

“Anywhere in particular?”

“University of Minnesota, possibly. Walden, probably.”

“Walden,” my dad said. “That’s where Kat’s mom teaches.”

“I know,” Jack said. “It’s close enough that I could commute. Save money. Maybe transfer to a bigger school junior year.”

I felt funny finding this out via my dad. I wished he hadn’t asked. I wished it had come up in a personal conversation between me and Jack. One where we shared our goals and dreams. And I also wished Jack hadn’t mentioned money constraints, not because I judged. More because I saw my dad’s eyebrows lift ever so slightly, because he judged. I was thankful that my dad hadn’t pressed, wanting to know a prospective major, a five-year plan.

“Did Kat tell you about the Sorbonne?”

“The Sorbonne?” Jack asked.

“The famous university in Paris,” my dad said. “It’s where she wants to do college. Perfect her French, so she can get a top job in fashion.”

Jack didn’t know this. Not even my mom knew this. It was a little secret between me, my dad, and my grams, who was more than happy to bankroll my college experience if it took me to Paris, her hometown. It seemed like a don’t-get-too-attached warning from my dad.

“Nothing’s settled yet,” I said quickly.

“Still. Sounds exciting,” Jack said, but there was a dullness to his words that betrayed him.

My dad paid the bill. Jack offered to pay his share, but my dad waved him away dismissively. He would have done this anyway, but I could tell Jack didn’t like being taken care of. Jack and I said good night in the presence of my dad. It was a little awkward. I wanted more than just a hand squeeze and a wave. So did he. I could tell.

It was a quiet car ride home. My dad was humming along to the oldies station. I was thinking about Jack. I both hated and loved the way he now preoccupied my every thought.

We pulled up in front of the house.

“Is that Stanley’s car?” my dad asked.

“Yes.”

“I won’t come in, then.”

My dad and Stanley had yet to meet. My mom didn’t want it. Not yet, anyway. And seeing as my dad had a flight out tomorrow, it wasn’t imminent. My mom did know about the lease on Hulda’s factory. She’d been pretty surprised and not necessarily in a good way. I hadn’t factored in her wish for a fresh start, away from my dad. She recovered quickly, though, for my sake. She’d seen how excited I was about having him around.

I gave my dad a big hug good-night. It was such a relief that he’d be back soon. A part of my day-to-day. I promised to call him on Sunday and let him know how the dance went. I wished he’d offered some small compliment of Jack. How he seemed like a hardworking kid, helping out his family. Someone who gave credit to others, like Pedro, and didn’t crave the limelight. Someone who would get his degree, one way or another. Someone who drank milk, because he always drank milk, and didn’t try to affect airs. I also wished he’d had more good things to say about Norse Falls in general. How he liked my new girlfriends, Penny and Tina. That it was nice of me to help Afi out. That it was a nice place, with nice people. I knew all this would come later, but still, I wished my dad had seen these things.