“That’s tough.” That shadow I know too well passes behind Luke’s eyes. “But what does that have to do with me?”
“I want your permission to contact Hal.”
“No way in hell.” Luke slaps the side of the truck hard. “How would you ever explain it to Wes?”
“I told him I would figure something out. I’ll tell him I had contacts.”
“Like your brother’s former sober companion, the guy who made sure he wouldn’t pop the painkillers he’d gotten addicted to after a bronc nearly killed him?” Luke’s tone is hard as stone, and I have a flash of memory of our brutal fights as kids.
Luke fights hard. He plays hard. And he never had a drinking problem. But any mention of an addict, and he’s right back to his life after the accident when he couldn’t get through a minute without a painkiller. He kicked the habit with a lot of help and an intervention. And we managed to keep the issue private, no small feat in a small town. He wants to make sure it stays that way.
“Look, I understand why you’re worried. I just…”
“No.” He glares at me.
I blow out a breath. “Fine. Thanks for coming by. I’ll figure something else out. A college scout is coming to the game on Friday, and Wes just…”
Luke’s watching my face. “Wes what?”
I hold out my arms. “He’s fucking got it, Luke. Everything he needs.”
“Are you serious?” His expression changes from anger to enthusiasm. “You think this kid can make the pros?”
“A hundred percent, yes. I wouldn’t put so much effort into getting him to keep going if I thought he should pursue a different path.”
“You so rarely think one of your kids should dream that big.”
“Because the chances are one in a million.”
“So you think Wes is one in a million material.”
“Yes.”
We face each other in a staredown. Finally, Luke bangs the truck again. “Christ. Fine, I’ll help you out.”
I exhale in relief. “I owe you.”
“You always owe me,” he jokes. “But I’m not giving you Hal’s info.”
“So then what…”
“I’ll babysit the dad on Friday.”
“What?”
“That’s my offer. Send me his address, and I’ll make sure to take care of him for the day and night until you get home at two a.m.”
“You’re not a professional at this kind of thing,” I say with concern.
“Maybe not, but no layperson is going to be better equipped to understand what this guy’s going through than a former addict. And alcohol never did it for me, you know that. I could sit at a bar all night long and nurse one beer. I can work with him. Deal?”
He holds out his hand. Not sure I have any other option right now, I take the deal.
Chapter Nine
Leleila
I wake up Saturday morning feeling cranky. Just what I want to do—stand outside on the middle of Main Street and collect donations. I love to help Mountainview’s homeless, but I prefer to do it less publicly. But Phillip and June love these Food Drives—Phillip because he can chat up the locals for his research, and June so she can advertise her store.
