Stranger in Town. Brenda Novak
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“We’ll see how it goes.”
The phone rang. She raised one hand in a gesture that said she’d only be a minute and answered it. “Hello?…Yes, dear, I’ve heard. It is good news. I’m glad you’re happy about it. I know…He’ll be fantastic…Actually, he’s sitting right here so I’d better…Well—” she glanced at him and frowned “—actually, he’s in the restroom right now. Maybe he could call you later?…Right. See you on Thursday…We’ll have a good time…I always love shopping for antiques…Okay, then. I’ll talk to you soon…”
Gabe’s mood darkened as he watched her disconnect. “Who was that?”
She hesitated, obviously leery.
“Mom?” he pressed.
“It was Lucky.”
Lucky again. The most important people in his life had all grown close to her. With a sigh, he pushed his iced tea away. “I gotta go.”
“Gabe, don’t leave yet,” she said. But his sister came through the front door at that precise moment.
“Hey, I thought that was your truck Decided to act a little human and actually leave the cabin today, huh?”
Gabe didn’t respond. With a whistle, he called Lazarus and left.
SO WHERE WAS Kenny?
Hannah sat at her desk staring at the phone, a victim to the same nail-biting, stomach-knotting anxiety she felt almost every time Russ took the boys. She was afraid that her ex would get drunk and drive with Brent and Kenny in the car, fall asleep with a lit cigarette and burn down the trailer, or bring home a couple of vagrants who couldn’t be trusted around kids. There was no telling what Russ might do. He’d done plenty of questionable things in the past, some she knew about and probably lots she didn’t. Kenny and Brent and Russ’s family, especially his sister Patti, tried to cover for him, but Hannah had lived with Russ for twelve years. She knew what he was like. And she knew he’d gone downhill since the divorce. It was a travesty that the courts had made it impossible for her to protect the boys.
The phone rang and she snapped it up. “Hello?”
“Hannah?” It wasn’t Kenny. It was Betsy Mann, the woman who’d called nearly two hours ago to complain that Russ had been terribly late picking up Brent from his play date with her grandson, which made her miss her voice lessons. Hannah found it irritating that folks still expected her to apologize for Russ’s shortcomings. She and Russ had been divorced for nearly six years. But life in Dundee changed slowly, if at all, and today she was far more worried about the fact that Betsy hadn’t seen Kenny in the Jeep when Russ finally arrived. Had he forgotten Kenny or dropped him off somewhere? Hannah was betting on the former. Russ forgot the boys, or simply blew them off, all the time.
“Have you found Kenny?” Betsy asked.
Leaning forward at her desk, Hannah rested her forehead on the butt of her hand. “No. Russ isn’t answering. I haven’t been able to reach Coach Blaine, either. But Coach Owens told me Kenny was still waiting on the curb when he left.”
“Did you go over to the school?”
“Of course. I didn’t see him.”
“Maybe he tried to walk home.”
“There was no sign of him on the streets.”
Kenny was not a little boy. And Dundee wasn’t exactly a high-crime district. But an accident could happen anywhere. What concerned Hannah was that she knew he wouldn’t call her if his father didn’t show up. He tried to keep that sort of thing quiet so he wouldn’t stir up trouble.
“Marge over at Finley’s Grocery said that Gabe Holbrook’s the new head coach now that Larry’s passed away, God rest his soul,” Betsy said. “Have you tried him?”
“Not yet.”
“Do you have his number?”
“No.”
“Don’t worry. I called Celeste, Gabe’s mother, and got it for you, just in case.”
Sometimes people in Dundee were a little too helpful. But with Kenny’s welfare hanging in the balance, Hannah didn’t mind.
“He’s unlisted, you know,” Betsy was saying as Hannah rummaged through the drawer, looking for a pen. “Gabe’s such a big star he can’t publish his phone number for anyone to find. I happen to be good friends with Celeste, so she gave it to me the moment I asked. I help her with the crab feed for Safe & Sober Grad Night every year, you know.”
What Hannah knew was that Gabe wanted to avoid his old acquaintances as much as his adoring fans—and she suspected he wanted to avoid her more than anyone else. Especially after what had passed between them this morning. But she found a pen and took down his number. Maybe he’d seen Kenny get into a car with one of the other players. If so, at least she’d have somewhere else to look.
“Thanks,” she said and hung up. Then she traced the numerals of his number several times while working up the nerve to call him.
GABE SET his staining brush aside, used the remote to turn down the stereo in his workshop and leaned over to reach the phone. It had been a long day, filled with more interruptions than he’d had in the past year. It seemed like half the town had contacted him since practice. Some had questions about whether or not he was planning to significantly change the football program at DHS. Some put in a plug for one player or another, or wanted to analyze this year’s talent. Others simply called to say how grateful they were that he was stepping in for Coach Hill. After his little confrontation with Blaine, Gabe was grateful for the support. But he’d kept to himself for so long, he also felt bombarded, overwhelmed and more than a little rusty on the social skills.
“Hello?”
“Gabe?”
In the corner, Lazarus sat up.
“Yes?” It was Hannah. Gabe knew it instantly, and immediately feared that Mike had called her and made some type of suggestion that they get together.
He was considering breaking his best friend’s nose when she asked if he’d seen Kenny, and he realized he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion.
Letting a sigh slip silently between his lips, he remembered the way Russ had acted when he’d pulled up that afternoon, and his anger turned to disgust. “His father picked him up at practice,” he said.
“Oh, he did?” He heard her relief. “I haven’t been able to reach them, so I wasn’t sure.”
Taking advantage of the fact that Gabe had stopped working, Lazarus walked over and nudged him. “He was pretty late, but he finally came,” he said, scratching his dog behind the ears.
“That’s good.”
“Glad I could help.” Gabe was eager to get off the phone. He’d dealt with enough people for one day—and he didn’t want whatever had happened between them this morning to raise its head again. He could already feel some kind of tension humming through the line. But she spoke before he could hang up.
“Marissa asked about you the other day.”
“Marissa?”
“My friend? The one I hung out with all the time in high school?”
That Marissa. How could he have forgotten her? She’d been one of the more determined girls-in-pursuit he’d known at Dundee High. Even the groupies who’d followed him around once he started playing in the NFL hadn’t had her perseverance. She’d asked him to the prom, after he already had a date, called him incessantly, sent him love letters, drove past his house three or four times a night. Once she even decorated his truck with hundreds of lipstick kisses interspersed with chocolate kisses. It had taken him hours to clean it off. “I remember…How is she?” he added when he realized his response