The Friend Game (Games for Two #1)

Chapter 13

BY THE END OF practice I’m no longer thinking about my emotional bruises because I’ve obtained too many physical bruises that are stealing my attention. For a game that’s supposed to have no tackling, there sure as heck was a lot of tackling. The six boys and four girls that make up the team went along with the ‘just grab the flags’ rule for a while, but then one boy got excited and charged Luke. After that all of the kids took turns trying to take him down, even joining forces to achieve their goal, but apparently Luke is a tank, because they couldn’t knock him down no matter how hard they tried.

When they realized this, they switched over to me, who went down faster than an unstable Jenga tower. Did I squeal on my way down?

Yes, yes I did.

Luckily Luke stepped in and called the kids off, but my butt and my elbow suffered injuries nonetheless. Which is why I’m now sitting in a kind parent’s lawn chair with one bag of the ice Luke got me under my booty and the other against my elbow. Luke is in a huddle with the kids wrapping up practice. Every now and then a cheer erupts from the group.

“Sorry again,” Sheila, the woman whose lawn chair I’m sitting in, says as she adjusts the brim of her sun hat. “Zach and his dad wrestle a lot, so he can be a bit rough.”

Zach was the kid who first cried, “Get Miss Garza!” then led the stampede to where I stood. As soon as they headed towards me I took off running, but I swear these kids’ parents must put steroids in their cereal, because they caught me in five seconds flat.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I assure her, even though my butt is killing me. “The kids were just having fun.”

“I suppose,” she sighs. “It’s just hard having the wild kid sometimes, you know? Especially since he’s a scholarship student. People are already predisposed to label him as a troublemaker.”

“Zach is a scholarship student?” I ask in surprise.

“You didn’t know?” She laughs. “Did you not notice that there’s a tear in that lawn chair you’re sitting in? No regular Grace Canyon family would ever hold onto something torn like that. ”

There’s no unkindness in her tone, she’s simply stating the truth. Just the other day I witnessed Jill throwing away a purse with a tear in it. And when I say purse, I mean Gucci handbag. And when I say tear, I mean a small rip in one of the inner pocket linings. And when I say I witnessed her throwing it away, I mean I intercepted it and claimed the bag as my own.

“Well, I haven’t been at the school long,” I tell her, “but so far Zach has been a great student.”

“Thanks.” Sheila smiles. “Zach really isn’t much of an artist, but he told me he really enjoyed your class this week.” She glances towards the field, her eyes landing on Zach who is high-fiving his teammates. “He’s really blossomed here. We were so excited when a scholarship spot opened up for him this year, he’d been on the waitlist for one since kindergarten.”

“Waitlist?” I turn confused eyes on her. “There’s a waitlist for scholarships?”

“Oh yes.” She nods. “There’s a waitlist for the school in general, but the scholarship waitlist is longer.” She pauses. “Or at least it was before this year. Pastor Abbott really pushed to increase the number of full ride scholarships available, and that was what got Zach in. Financial aid is easier to get, but not many families here apply for that.”

Well, that’s just great. So the chances of Caroline getting into Grace Canyon, let alone getting in on scholarship, are slimmer than her mother’s hips.

The kids are starting to make their way over to the sideline, and I focus in on Luke, following behind them, the mesh bag of footballs all the kids just cleaned up slung over his shoulder. I wonder idly if I could tackle him. Sure would be fun to try.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sheila peers at me. “Your eyes look funny. I hope you didn’t get a concussion.” She bends down and stares into my eyes. “Your pupils do look dilated.”

“Oh no, no,” I hurry to assure her, blinking my eyes rapidly in a haphazard attempt to reduce her suspicion. “I don’t have a concussion.”

“Concussion?” Luke has reached us by now, and instantly zeroes in on the word. “You think she has a concussion?” He looks down at Sheila, ignoring my protestations.

“I’m not sure. I didn’t see if she hit her head when she went down.” Sheila chews her lower lip. Luke is looking at me with concern. Normally I’d enjoy seeing him worried about me, but seeing as he’s the root cause of my dilated pupils, I just want the attention off me.

“I think she did hit it,” another parent pipes up, because now all eyes are on me. “I can call my husband if you’d like, Pastor Abbott,” the woman adds. “I’m sure he’d be happy to perform a neurological exam on her. ”

Oh my word! I can see it now: Doctor, I swear my brain is fine. My pupils just dilated because I was fantasizing about jumping Pastor Abbott.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” I can’t keep a note of hysteria out of my voice. Do the scans neurologists run detect that kind of thing? Surely not. “My head feels fine, honestly. Besides,” I add with a stroke of inspiration, “my insurance hasn’t kicked in yet, and I’d hate to pay for a neuro exam out of pocket. Thank you, though, for the offer.”

“Oh hun, Ken wouldn’t charge you,” the woman hems. “We’d consider it a welcome to Grace Canyon present.”

Wow, a free neuro exam to welcome me to Grace Canyon, that is so…actually I don’t know the right adjective for that. Is there a word that means both sweet and creepy? Sweepy? Creet? Weird?

Yup, weird is the adjective I was looking for.

Even weirder, the free part actually tempts me. We Garzas can’t resist the word free. Even Jill, with all her money, will still jump at the chance to get something for free. I blame our mother, who used to take us garage saleing in the summer, but only ever let us choose things from the free bins. Cheap shopping, she called it.

“So should I call him?” she asks a little impatiently, then sighs as she eyes the time on her phone. “Wait, he’ll be watching the game right now. Can you wait a few hours?”

I’m jolted out of my always-say-yes to-free-stuff haze. “No, really, I’m fine. I don’t want to interrupt your Saturday for nothing, but if I do have any other symptoms of a concussion I’ll be in touch.”

She studies me for a second, then looks over at Luke. “You okay with that, Pastor Abbott?”

You okay with that, Pastor Abbott? An indignant squeak slips from my lips at the suggestion that it’s his decision whether or not I need a neuro-exam.

“Not my call,” Luke says, but I see a muscle in his jaw twitch. He’s really worried about me. So worried he wants me to take this woman up on her offer.

“Lu-uh, Pastor Abbott,” I fumble his name, my cheeks pinkening at almost having addressed him so casually in front of all these Grace Canyon parents, “I promise, I didn’t hit my head. But just to be safe I’ll hang out at the Bernard’s for the afternoon so they can keep an eye on me.”

“Aunt Hannah, can we go now?” Ellie appears at my side, Mia following in her wake. “Mia has to go to the bathroom.” Luke, whose mouth had been opened to respond, rubs his brow and steps back .

“Are you driving Lexie’s daughter home?” my neuro-exam-offering friend quickly jumps in, her tone accusatory. “Because I’m not sure Lexie would be comfortable having someone with a brain injury drive her daughter home. Perhaps I should take Mia home.”

“I don’t have a—” I begin to protest, but Ellie starts whining, cutting me off.

“No, we have to take Mia home, Aunt Hannah! She’s supposed to stay and play this afternoon.”

“I want to go to Ellie’s house,” Mia pipes up at the same time neuro guy’s wife announces that Mia can just come play at her house with her son Kingston. Meanwhile Ellie is just saying my name on repeat.

“How about I drive all three of you back to the Bernard’s?” Luke speaks above the cacophony of voices and everybody shuts up at the same time.

There’s one long beat of silence then Ellie and Mia look at each other and start screaming. “We get to ride in Pastor Abbott’s Jeep!” Ellie screams.

“His yellow Jeep!” Mia screams back.

His yellow Jeep! I refrain from joining in on their screaming, but only just. Call me Sandy, because I want to ride in Danny’s T-bird!

“Well, I suppose that would be fine.” Neuro lady sniffs her nose like she doesn’t actually think it’s fine, but then her son, Kingston, who I vaguely recall from class this week, approaches our group and declares loudly that there’s no way he’s having a girl over to play. And that’s that. Five minutes later the girls and I are in Luke’s jeep headed towards home.

The car smells like Luke, cedar and pine and masculinity. It’s pretty clean too, which I hope means he is in fact a man who likes cleaning bathrooms. In the backseats the girls are engaged in some complicated hand clap that all elementary-aged girls seem to instinctively know. This leaves Luke and I free to talk, and though I know I should be bringing up Caroline, what I’m dying to talk about instead is...

“So you’re a talk radio guy?” The question comes bursting out, and Luke chuckles.

“That was actually sports radio,” he tells me, referring to the station playing when he first turned the car on. He’d flipped it off almost immediately in favor of silence. “I was listening to a football game on the way to practice.”

“Oh, okay.” I nod. Sports radio is maybe a little better than regular talk radio, but they’re both not great. I mean, you can’t sing along to either one! What if Luke’s old choir teacher scarred him so much that now he can’t even listen to music in his car?

“Do you listen to sports radio a lot?” I hedge .

“Almost exclusively. That or podcasts. Never music,” he says gravely. “Brings up too many bad memories of my middle school choir teacher.”

“I knew it!” I cry. “Luke, that’s awful! You can’t let her rob you of the joy of music any longer. You—”

I break off as I see Luke’s lips twitching. He’s trying not to laugh.

“You liar!” I lean over and slap him on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I could just see on your face exactly what you were thinking.” He chuckles, then reaches over and hits preset two. Country music fills the car. “I like country music,” he tells me, and there’s that little cowboy twang I heard earlier; the cadence of it strums along my heart making it beat faster.

“Hey,” his brow furrows in concern, “you sure your head is okay? Your pupils really do look dilated.”

Oh for Pete’s sake! Instantly I look away, cursing my blue eyes. A brown-eyed woman would never have this same problem.

“My head is fine. Anyway, did I tell you about Sydney’s daughter?”

How’s that for a segue?

“Sorry, Sydney?” He looks confused. “Who’s that? ”

Do I feel slightly gratified that he doesn’t remember her right away? Yes, yes I do.

“Oh wait,” he adds. “Sydney. Your sister’s friend? The waitress?”

Fine, he remembers her.

But it took some work.

“Yes, that’s Sydney.” I take a deep breath, suddenly nervous. It feels a bit like I’m asking him for $20,000.

Then 20,000 more every year after that until Caroline graduates.

No big deal.

Ha!

“So what about her?” Luke prompts.

Oh right. “Well,” I say, checking the backseat to make sure the girls aren’t listening. They're still naming vegetables or something as they slap hands, so I press on. “She has this daughter, Caroline, who’s being bullied at school and, to make a long story short, the administration isn’t doing anything about it. The bullying has gotten so bad that Sydney wants to pull her daughter from the school, only she doesn’t really have any other school options. She’s a single mom, already working two jobs to make ends meet, so there’s no way she could afford private school tuition.” My voice is coming out faster and faster, buoyed along by my nerves.

“And yes I know from Zach’s mom, Sheila, that there really aren’t any scholarships left and that there’s even a waitlist for scholarships, so it’s just completely unfair of me to ask for you to give her special treatment, but Brooke begged me to ask. Plus I have this soft heart problem that I’ve never really been able to kick, which means it’s either I help get Caroline a scholarship or I go to her school, take this bully girl out to the playground, then whip her butt so badly in a Double Dutch contest that she loses face completely and never speaks again, let alone bullies someone—”

“Hannah," Luke cuts in, “slow down.” He holds a hand up. “Are you trying to ask for a scholarship for Caroline?”

I stare at him, my chest heaving a bit from forgetting to breathe during my impassioned rant. “Yes?” It comes out as a question which earns me a little snort of laughter from Luke.

“Okay, well you know there’s a whole process for that, right? Caroline and Sydney would have to first apply for a scholarship, then if the scholarship committee likes her application, she and Sydney would come in for an interview, and if that interview goes well then they can get put on our scholarship waitlist.”

“Oh, wow.” My shoulders slump, but then I look over at him and say cheekily, “I don’t suppose all of that can happen by Monday?”

Luke lets out a breathy laugh, then taps his fingers along the steering wheel. “Monday, huh? ”

“That was the goal, but obviously Tuesday would be acceptable too.” I’m being flippant, because I can feel the ‘no’ coming, and I want it to sting less than I can already sense it’s going to. Brooke thought I’d have some pull with Luke, but clearly I don’t.

And okay fine, maybe I thought I might have some pull too. I mean we are going out in four months. Doesn’t that count for anything? Apparently not.

I only wish that fact didn’t hurt so much.

“Monday isn’t going to happen,” Luke says, and just like that I’m Eeyore after his tail fell off.

“Okay,” I sigh. “I understand.”

“Hey, don’t go planning your Double Dutch routine just yet,” Luke chuckles. “Yes, they’ll have to follow the usual admissions process and yes, there is a wait list for full ride scholarships,” I feel my shoulders droop as he speaks, “but I might know of a way we can bypass the wait list.”

“Wait, what?”My shoulders shoot back up.“You do?”

“Possibly,” Luke says carefully. “I’ll have to pull some strings, but if Sydney doesn’t mind taking her waitressing services to the library it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“To the library?”I peer at him in confusion as we pull onto my street. “Why? Do you need her to do some research or something? ”

“No, not research.” Luke swings the car into Jill’s driveway. “I’m talking about employment.”

“Employment?”

I’m still not getting what he’s saying, but before he can reply Ellie leans forward and cries, “Hey look, Aunt Brooke is here! Yay!”

I turn and see that she’s right. Brooke’s white Bronco just pulled up to the curb. A second later Sydney pops out of the passenger side and opens the door of the backseat.

“Ooo-ooo,” Ellie squeals, “she brought Caroline! Mia you get to meet my dance friend, Caroline! We can all play together!”

I'm about to turn to Luke and swear that this isn’t some sort of ambush, when he speaks.

“Sydney and Caroline are here.” Luke puts his Jeep in park and turns off the engine. “Great. Mind if I come inside and we can discuss things with Sydney?”

Ellie and Mia are already tumbling out of the car and rushing toward Caroline.

“Sure.” I hesitate, but then can’t help but add, “I swear I didn’t tell them to come. I did tell Brooke I’d speak with you about Sydney and Caroline’s situation, but I never want to put you in an uncomfortable position of feeling like you can’t say no or that,” I swallow, “I’m trying to take advantage of our friendship or whatever it is we have between us. You can pull the plug on this whole thing right now if it’s going to cause you trouble or if it’s just not possible to get Caroline into Grace Canyon. I won’t be mad or anything.”

Luke studies me for a second. “Well,” he says carefully, “I appreciate you saying all of that, but as much as I’d like to witness you taking on a second grader in a jump rope competition, I actually would love to try and make it work for Caroline to come to Grace Canyon. When I became the pastor at Grace, I asked to take over the scholarship committee at the school. Giving kids an opportunity to come to our school when their families can’t afford it is sort of a passion of mine. Largely because Jesus is very clear that His followers are to provide for the less fortunate, but also because I myself went to Grace Canyon at a reduced rate thanks to my dad’s position as principal there.”

“Really?” I look at him with new eyes.

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “My family never struggled to make ends meet, but we were still decidedly middle class. My parents could not have afforded to send me and my sister to Grace Canyon if our dad hadn’t worked there.”

“Wow.” I can’t help but beam at him. “I think that’s awesome that now you’re paying it forward.”

“Thanks, but I should also tell you that me helping Sydney and Caroline out isn’t completely altruistic,” he says wryly. His eyes lock on mine as he says his next words, “Because sure I have a heart for scholarship kids, but believe me, in this particular instance part of my motivation for helping is absolutely you.”

Without another word Luke steps out of the car. I’m still frozen, my pulse dancing in my throat, when he opens my door for me a few seconds later.

Call me a sled dog because I guess I do have some pull with Luke after all.