Page 10 of Chasing Headlines
“Not yet?” I flipped my hat inside out.
“It's no wonder Tom . . .” Her lips moved as she turned. A low-pitched shush filled the air and a wave of cool air fell around me. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling.
“If you’re here from six, let’s say six-thirty to ten-thirty on weeknights, that’s twenty hours. I'm sure we can slot in some weekend time for the rest.”
I opened my eyes, but she wasn't looking at me. She tapped and stared at her Apple watch.
“I’ll round up where I can and throw in some extra fluff over the next eight weeks. That way you don’t need as many hours when you get into midterms and such. I'm afraid, that's the best I can do.”
My heart picked up into a sprint. I swallowed. Lowered my gaze to the floor. “I’ll work the hours, ma’am.”
“What's that, now?”
“Whatever you put down on the report. That’s what I’ll work.”No charity. No lies.
A door opened and closed in the distance. The vague drone of chatter joined the contented hum of the industrial air conditioner.
“Nothing’s worth your integrity, Breslin. If you feel like you have to lie to get something, you should find a different way. Or have the strength to walk away.”
Mom’s voice still rang in my ears like she was in the same room.
“I wasn't. Now, son, that isn't what I meant. Shoot.” She exhaled a slow, deliberate breath. Shot a dark glance my direction then away. “I'll have the IT guy get you a login and we'll get everything set up for you to start.”
“Thanks.” I shifted my stance. “Do I need to bring anything? Wear a uniform, or, something?”
“I’ll get you a couple of pairs of scrubs, don't worry about none of that. I know college kids and their laundry battles. My sons. Lord help their wives.” She shook her head and glanced at the ceiling.
“They play baseball?”
“One played through college. He didn't always make the spring roster. He stuck with his studies, though. Found he liked computers. The older one only played through high school.”
I nodded.
“But, with the younger one, we found the games were so exciting. Better than the chaos at football games. Could sit and enjoy the company of friends and there were always events, too. Fell in with Tom and his wife. We ended up with a whole group and our spring social life became Strikers baseball for a time.”
I shifted to let the curtain of cool air hit my left side.
“Now we caravan to Amarillo to watch Sod Poodles. All of us exceptTom.”
I shook my head. “Sod poodles?” The fuck is that?
“They're a Colorado feeder team.” She pointed at me. “You tell Schorr I'm helping out. Get him to bump my name on that waiting list. Or tell him to build a bigger stadium already. Jesus help me, that man is as stubborn as a battle axe.”
“If I get guest tickets, I'll let you know.”
Her stick straight mouth curved up on one side. “That'd be very kind of you. Now, chin up, Mr. Cooper. We have a saying here in Vanquer. ‘We can't predict which direction the winds of change will blow, or control when they come. All we can do is try to be prepared.’”
“I need to get to practice.”
“Of course. Good luck.” She held out her hand, again. I shook it and left.
I settled into the driver's seat and turned the ignition on my truck. Before I moved it into gear, my phone chimed.
Oh damn, it'd been on silent. I opened Messenger and scrolled through a half dozen missed texts from my dad. Still. Almost six months after Mom died, and he's not making it.
I hadn't told the deputy, but I'd gone home last weekend. Probably would, again on Friday—since we weren't scheduled tohave afternoon practice. Likely the last time I could get there for awhile with my upcoming schedule. Was pretty sure I was supposed to keep the state-sponsored comedian informed as to my whereabouts—especially if and when I leave the state. But it'd been a last-minute decision.Should ask him.Hopefully I'd make the roster and need to follow protocol for away games.
Dad: How's practice going?