“I’m almost indifferent to the money at this point,” I admit. “The team doesn’tneedanymore. I’ve covered the costs of everything I’d wanted to upgrade or purchase for the team at this point. And we still have several smaller fundraisers planned throughout the year, so the money would sit in our account until we need it, which is totally fine.”
“Oh, definitely the same. I’ve always lived within a smaller budget, which is why I didn’t worry about the small cut we received. Between the corporate sponsorships and the kids getting themselves sponsored by teachers, we more than covered the loss we’d received at the start. The money from the auction and tournament were already gravy, and we used it to upgradeequipment that was wearing out that we’d normally still use for another couple seasons before we were forced to buy new.”
“You think the other teams are similar?”
Alka shrugs. I watch him as he tends masterfully to the grill, despite holding a conversation. “Probably all except Lemon.”
I chew my lips for a minute before saying, “Okay, hear me out.” Alka gives me an amused glance. “What if whatever we choose next—and I think you’re right, we could totally go big if we had the right idea—what if we give all the proceeds to the football department?”
Alka raises a brow.
“Regardless of how you feel about Lemon, it’s the kids that matter. Our students. That includes his athletes. I can only imagine how expensive it is to run a team with over a hundred athletes.”
I can see the moment he truly considers the idea. Alka is the kind of person you want working at a college. When we were talking about Lemon, he’s instantly sour and not necessarily willing to think about it. But mention the team, the students, and suddenly, it’s a different game.
“You don’t really think he’s going to appreciate it, do you?”
Actually, I think he might. I’ve seen several glimpses of the person Lemon is under the bitter, hostile exterior. I think he’d be touched.
“I think his kids will,” I offer. “I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen him with his team but he’s a very different man around those kids.”
“He hates when we go to his games.”
“Oh, I learned that,” I say, laughing. “I haven’t made that mistake again. But I managed to watch enough of his practice to see that Lemon isn’t always the asshole we all get to see. Not really. So I think, as long as we emphasize we’re doing this forhis kids, I think the reception will be very different than you expect.”
He sighs. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but yeah. Okay.”
He starts pulling the meat off the fire and setting it on the tray that I rinsed in the outdoor sink. It’s all red meat, so a little bit of remaining blood is fine, anyway. There wasn’t any poultry and no seafood either.
“Ooh…” Alka says as he’s setting the ribs down. “What if we hold an event like this? Barbeque cook off!”
“How in the world will we make money off that?” I ask, laughing. “Where are we going to get the meat?”
He waves his tongs. “We’ll ask around town and further out for donations—restaurants, butchers, supermarkets, farms. Or we can leave that part up to the participants.”
“I’m still confused about how we’re going to raise money?” I ask.
“That’s where we charge everyone an admission fee to come in and purchase a plate. Like… $5 per ticket and each ticket, you can choose a plate from one of the contestants. And maybe we charge those who want to be judges. I don’t know. But there’s always tons of money given away at these things online.”
“They have sponsorships,” I say, and Alka gives me a grin. Yep, should have seen that coming. “Okay, let’s see what your Roux thinks. He can be our gauge to determine what kind of reception the teams will have.”
“I’d totally participate. Wait till you try these burnt ends!”
As we sit around the table later, eating burnt ends, potato salad, and roasted vegetables, I’m very thankful that Alka insisted I stay with him instead of going to a hotel. I can only imagine being alone with my thoughts for many empty, lonely hours.
Being surrounded by friends? Definitely a better mental space for me.
CHAPTER 23
LEMON
There’s a knock on my door and I glance up. My computer says I have practice in ten minutes so who the hell is bothering me now?
“Yes?” I bark, a little testily.
The door opens and Hansley looks at me. My breath catches and immediately, I take back my nasty tone. “Hi,” I say.
He steps inside and closes the door as I get to my feet. “I need a hug,” he tells me.
