12. Landry
CHAPTER 12
landry
“Go on in, Daisy. Staff and families get in free,” says the lady in the admissions ticket booth.
“Thanks, Mrs. Julie,” Daisy answers. I tip my head in a polite nod as I follow closely behind her.
“Excuse me, sir,” Mrs. Julie calls out.
I stop and clear my throat. I’ve never paid to get into a Camellia High athletics event in my life. “It’s okay. I’m Landry Reed,” I reassure her.
She glares at me. “Right. But your dad’s not a coach anymore, and you can’t get in for free under your sister’s name or your brother-in-law’s coaching card.”
Ouch .
I may have gotten used to the moniker of “Coach Reed’s son,” but only being recognized as “Loren’s brother” or “The Other Bourgeois’ brother-in-law” has a little more of a sting to it.
“Dr. Reed is my ride tonight,” Daisy explains sweetly, and I’m surprised at the effort required to keep my mind out of the gutter. Must be the high school setting messing with my hormones.
“Oh, well, I’m sure that’s okay.” Mrs. Julie’s expression softens, and Daisy tugs me forward. I suppose it’s a good thing no one knows about the latest updates to our roommate arrangement, or they’d be calling me “Daisy’s husband” by now.
I stop once we reach the fence that separates the sidelines, filling my lungs with the all-too-familiar smell of fresh-cut grass, musty football equipment, and concession stand food. My mind is instantly flooded with memories of the time spent here with my dad and my teammates, both good and bad.
“Hey, Miss Daisy,” a couple of cheerleaders drawl as they walk past us. One of them looks familiar and studies me more carefully than the rest until Tenley’s nephew comes around to pull her into an embrace. Her friend drags her away when she and Ethan go in for a short kiss, and he continues grinning at her even after she’s gone. Then he turns and acknowledges Daisy and me with a nod before he puts on his helmet and trots onto the field to join the kids warming up.
“Is that her boyfriend? Are they married?” I overhear another girl ask the others before she turns and bats a set of gaudy, fake eyelashes in a way that makes me feel uncomfortable.
Daisy glances up at me and stifles a smirk. “Should I tell them you’re single?”
“God, no,” I retort, making her laugh. “They’re all young enough to be my patients.”
“Come on, there’s no harm in letting them crush, is there?” She nudges me, and my expression softens. I think there must be a deeper meaning behind it, but we’re interrupted by a catcall.
“Ayo, Miss Day-zee! Came to watch me play?” says one uniformed kid among a small crowd of football players, and I place my hand on Daisy’s lower back without thinking.
“She’s here for me, you simp,” his teammate retorts, shoving him playfully. And a growl nearly escapes my chest.
Instead of blurting out some inappropriate threat, I clench my jaw and curl my hand into the fabric of Daisy’s dress possessively. She blinks a few times before she answers, obviously flustered, though I can’t tell if it’s because of the kids’ calls or my reaction to them.
“I’m here for all of you,” she says sweetly.
They laugh as one of them nods in my direction. “That your boyfriend or something?”
“Something,” I answer for her this time.
“You look like you’d rather be watching a golf tournament than a football game, Pops,” he continues, elbowing his teammate.
I reach up to adjust the collar of my polo while they carry on with their roast, though I don’t understand most of the words they’re using.
“Hey, see that sign over there, the one next to the concession stand?” I address the first kid again.
“The one with Coach JD and Coach Blake on it?”
“Yeah, that one,” I retort dryly, then I tap my chest. “Number seventeen.”
They all turn and squint at the billboard honoring our state championship run from about fifteen years ago. I ended up serving as a catch-all that year, alternating positions as a backup quarterback and wide receiver, as well as a middle linebacker.
“You’re Landry Reed?” the kid finally surmises. Frankly, I’m a little disappointed that it takes him so long to read my name aloud.
“Well, Doctor Reed now.” I feel my mouth curving into a smile.
“Hey, he must be Ms. Reed’s brother,” one kid tells the rest of them before he turns to me. “Wasn’t your dad the coach?”
I sigh when he knocks me back down again. “Yeah.”
He unexpectedly tosses a football my way, and I let go of Daisy to catch it. Then I step to the side and roll my shoulder around before throwing it back, depending on my muscle memory to keep me from looking like a total loser. The kid’s eyebrows raise appreciatively when he wraps his hands around the ball after it spirals toward him.
“So you played with Coach JD, too?”
I laugh shortly. “Mm-hmm.”
“That’s cool, bruh,” he replies just as JD walks by. “Hey, Coach, we just met your old teammate.”
JD’s grin falters when he turns and sees me. “Doc, Miss Daisy. Thanks for coming out to support us,” he says mechanically before he marches on down the sideline. Blake and another assistant coach trail behind him, to my surprise, and Blake gives me a halfhearted nod before he tries to get away.
“What are you doing out here?” I call out to him. “Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?”
He sighs before turning around and jogging over. “Loren kicked me out tonight.”
“What the hell did you do?” I fire back.
“Not like that.” He rolls his eyes. “She guilted me into coming to the game.”
“And you listened?”
“Look, it doesn’t matter how many times I tell her—she thinks I need to get back to doing the things I used to enjoy before I had her and the girls to keep me—” Blake stops abruptly and points an accusing finger at my face, and Daisy nudges me, presumably to warn me about my expression. “Don’t you dare, Reed. You know damned well I was talking about coaching,” he says defensively.
“Whatever,” I mutter, flinching when Daisy elbows me harder.
He shakes his head and scowls at me. “What have I done to make you think I’d ever go back to being that guy?”
I run my tongue over my teeth before I shrug. “Nothing.”
“Right. And for the record, it’s absolutely killing me not to be with them right now. So you can just go f—” He stops and glances apologetically at Daisy. “Sorry. Go screw yourself, Landry.”
“Thanks, Coach. Best of luck to you tonight,” I retort sarcastically, but he’s already sprinting off to join JD.
I turn to find Daisy frowning. “What? I didn’t say a single thing to him. How was that my fault?”
She sighs. “You’re right, you didn’t say anything offensive. But you can’t go around looking at your friends and family like you despise them and not expect them to think it’s true.”
“Technically, Blake’s not a friend or a member of my family.”
“Yet,” she points out.
I roll my eyes. As far as I know, Loren and Blake’s engagement still stands. But they don’t seem eager to set a timeline on it yet.
“Come on, let’s go get you some of that disgusting concession stand food I keep talking about,” I tell Daisy, changing the subject.
Her face lights up. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I can’t help but smile back at her now. “You going with the greasy barbecue sauce burger or Hot Fries drenched in cheese?”
“Oh, definitely the second,” she confirms. “And I’m gonna need one of those giant pickles the kids are always talking about.”
I snort as I lead her to the concession stand. “You can have your pickle.”
“Come on, don’t tell me pickles are in the same category as corn dogs and lollipops?”
I chuckle out loud. “Not quite, but I’ll pass this time. I’ve been plotting on a burger and some chili-cheese fries.”
I approach the window and order our food, noticing that Daisy looks concerned beside me. “Hey, everything okay?” I ask when we turn to head back toward the bleachers. She hesitates, so I add, “You have to tell me the truth, remember?”
“You paid for my food,” she says after a second. “But we’re not on a date, are we?”
I clear my throat. “No. We’re not.”
“Then you’d only be doing that if you thought I couldn’t afford my own dinner.”
I shrug, fending off my annoyance. “No, I just?—”
“You pity me because you know I’m broke and pathetic?”
My first instinct is to point out her lack of gratitude in response to my kind gesture, but the sad smile she flashes me doesn’t align with that attitude. Instead, I open my mouth to tell her she’s being ridiculous, since we both know she’s on a much tighter budget than I am. But then I remember her whole reason for moving out here—to become self-sufficient. And as if having to depend on me for transportation and health insurance weren’t enough, I just robbed her of her autonomy again.
I force a smile in return. “Of course not. I thought we agreed to share the responsibility for meals since neither of us can cook all that well. Dinner’s on you next time, right?”
She nods, looking relieved. “Thank you.”
More of Daisy’s coworkers and students greet her as we walk on, and she doesn’t hesitate to give each of them a friendly smile or address them by name. I recognize a few of my old classmates and acquaintances, but not many of them bother to acknowledge me.
We get to our seats just after kickoff, and I lean in close to explain what’s happening in the game. I’d already prepped her with the basics of football on the short drive over.
“So Ethan is the running back on this play. The quarterback there is going to hand the ball off to him, like that, then Ethan’s going to try to get as many yards as possible, if not a touchdown.”
She nods in understanding before she flinches when number twenty-three absorbs a hard hit and spins away. “But it’s not enough to hit him, right? They have to knock him down for the play to be over?”
“Or push him out of bounds.” Ethan skirts the sidelines for a few more yards before he gets shoved past the white line on the edge of the field.
That was Robin on the carry for a gain of twelve yards and another Yellowjackets first down!
Daisy’s eyes perk up at the sound of the announcer. “He’s earned them a whole new set of downs, right?” I nod encouragingly, and she continues, “And since they’re past the midpoint of the field?—”
“The fifty-yard line,” I correct her.
“The fifty-yard line,” she repeats and smirks, “they’re getting close enough to kick a field goal if they get to fourth down?”
“Exactly.”
“See, told you I’m a fast learner,” she says, lifting her chin smugly and making me chuckle.
“I guess you are. Coach Reed would be proud to have you for a daughter-in-law,” I lean down to whisper near her ear, and I see her cheeks flush once I back away. She might have taken that one a little too much to heart, judging by the way she tucks her hair behind her ears as she stifles a grin.
I clear my throat awkwardly. “Any other football terms you’re wondering about, while we’re at it?”
“Oh, what about a Hail Mary catch?” she asks excitedly. “Whatever it is, I bet it’s my favorite.”
“Well, it’s usually just a Hail Mary pass ,” I say with a soft laugh. “Because it’s not often caught.”
“Why not?”
“It’s basically a last resort play where the quarterback just throws the football into the end zone or as close as he can get to it and prays one of his teammates comes up with it,” I explain.
“Oh, well … now that I think about it, it’s kind of sweet that they named it that.”
“How do you mean?”
She shrugs. “Even a big, tough football player knows to call on the Blessed Mother’s intercession when he needs a miracle, right? Except, I like my version better. A catch sounds more optimistic.”
I stare at her in appreciation. The way this woman’s mind works is just … well, admirable.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who thinks the way you do, Daisy,” I hear myself saying.
“Is that a good or a bad thing?” she ventures as her cheeks turn pink again. “Wait, don’t answer that. I’m going to tell myself you meant it as a compliment.”
“I don’t give those away for free, so take it while you can, I guess,” I reply, holding back a smile.
“Landry!”
The sound of Blake calling my name and waving frantically on the sidelines derails my thoughts. I furrow my brow and jog down to meet him, my stomach instantly turning with the dread of what he might have to say. Did something happen to Loren or one of the twins while he was here at the game? If so, I may never forgive the cocky son of a?—
“Hey, Doc, we need your help down here,” Blake tells me when I make it to bottom of the bleachers. “One of the guys just took a hard hit to the head, and he’s showing signs of a concussion.”
I hop down immediately. “Okay, but I thought you had paramedics on site for that stuff?”
“We do, but this wouldn’t be his first concussion of the season,” Blake explains as he walks me toward the bench. “And I’m worried. He’s got some scouts looking at him, but we need someone qualified to convince him to sit his ass out for a while before he develops CTE.”
“Gotcha.” I nod as I approach the bench.
“Hey, Damien,” Blake says to the kid, and I recognize him as one of Daisy’s catcallers earlier. “This is Dr. Reed. You cool with letting him take a look at you?”
Damien’s eyes flash to Blake’s, but he keeps his head in his hands. “I don’t need a doctor, Coach,” he declares before he groans and spreads his feet to vomit on the grass.
“Looks like you do,” I say. “But I’m not gonna do anything without your permission, kid. Are your parents here?”
“No.” He spits on the ground and squints in pain. “You can examine me if you want, but I’m not going anywhere in that ambulance.”
“Okay. Does your head hurt, Damien?” I ask as I kneel beside him in a patch of clean grass. I take his wrist to check his pulse. His heart rate is slightly elevated.
“Yes, sir,” he rasps. “But I have to get back out there?—”
“No. What you have to do is take care of yourself, or you won’t be able to play at all before long,” I tell him sternly. “Any numbness or tingling?”
“No, sir.”
“Can you look up at me?”
He reluctantly tilts his head back and cracks his eyes open, and I can see that one of his pupils is larger than the other. I ask him to follow my finger, and his eye movements are jerky and delayed. He also confirms he’s been experiencing tinnitus.
“To be honest, Doc, my ears have been ringing on and off since that last hit I took a few weeks ago,” he admits after a while. “And sometimes things get blurry out of nowhere, but they always clear up later.”
“I appreciate you telling me that, but I’m sorry, man. You probably know these are all symptoms of a serious concussion and that it’s not safe for you to play right now.”
“Yeah,” he says, his eyelids drooping. “I know.”
I sigh. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’d really like you to come with me to the hospital to get some more tests done. I think you need a scan of your brain to be sure there’s nothing too serious going on.”
He tries to shake his head but ends up holding it in his hands again. “I don’t want to go to the hospital.”
“Damien,” comes another voice from behind me. “You’re not doing yourself any favors by staying here. You know damned well I’m not letting you play again until you run every possible test and a doctor says it’s safe.”
I turn to glare at JD over my shoulder. “He probably shouldn’t have been playing in the first place.”
“You’re right,” he admits, crossing his arms over his chest. “I should have noticed his symptoms were getting worse. And I should have made sure he got that scan the first time.”
Damien cringes. “That ain’t your fault, Coach. I told you I was better because I had to get back on the field. This is all I have.”
JD crouches down beside me and places a hand on Damien’s back. “Hey, it’s all right to be scared. I know how much you love this. And even though it feels like football is everything right now, it won’t always be that way. We have to put your health and safety first. Not to mention, your teammates are watching you. If it were any of them in the same position, you’d want them to take care of themselves, right?” Damien lets out a loud exhale but doesn’t answer him. “As hard as this is, I need you to be a leader right now.”
“Come on, Deculus,” Blake adds, reaching in and taking Damien’s helmet. “I’d tell you we don’t have to turn on the siren or the lights, but you’re probably into that sort of thing.”
Damien smirks. “Think the ER nurses will be hot?”
“You can always pretend it’s the concussion if you try to rizz them up and it doesn’t work,” JD offers, and Damien laughs softly and stands.
“All right. I’ll go. But only if Doc rides with me and tells them what kind of tests to run.”
I furrow my brow. “I can’t tell the ER doctor what to do, but I can give him my recommendations.”
Damien nods, and another kid helps him out of his pads. JD tells him they’ll call his grandma to meet us at the ER, and the rest of his teammates come up to pat him reassuringly on the shoulder as we walk toward the ambulance parked on the other end of the field.
“Hang on a second. I’ll be right back,” I say before I jog over to the bleachers. Daisy’s already descending the steps to meet me at the railing.
“Hey, sorry about this. It looks like I’m taking one of the kids to the ER, but I’ll be back later,” I tell her.
She smiles. “Damien Deculus?”
I nod. “Is he one of your students?”
Something brief flashes in her expression, but she covers it up quickly. “Yes. I hope he’s okay?”
“He just needs some tests for now. Will you be all right here?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll hang out with Tenley and her mom or something until you get back.”
I hesitate for a second. “Sorry I?—”
“Landry, go,” she says, shaking her head. “I’ll be fine.”
I nod and turn toward the field again, wondering why I feel so guilty for abandoning Daisy. I guess it’s because she’d seemed so excited about coming to the game before, and we hadn’t even gotten to eat our concession stand food.
I try to swallow the lump in my throat as I lead Damien onto the ambulance. After a quick talk with the EMTs, we head toward the hospital.
“You ever had a concussion, Doc?” Damien asks once we get down the block.
“Yeah, once. I got sacked as a freshman, and my head bounced off the ground. Hurt like hell for weeks.”
He grunts. “I bet.”
I stare at him for a second. “You’re in Miss Daisy’s class, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” he replies, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. “She’s?—”
“And you’ve been giving her a hard time.”
He blinks. “I’m just?—”
“But you’re going to show her some respect from now on. And you’re not going to let any of your classmates mess with her, either.”
He swallows hard. “Yes, sir.”
“Good,” I tell him, forcing a smile.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“She’s like a little sister to me,” I say.
Damien nods and holds out a fist, so I bump it with mine. “Aight, Doc. I gotchu.”
We get to the emergency room a minute later, and I help get Damien checked in before they take him back for a CT scan, which thankfully doesn’t show any major issues. The cocky, young resident pushes back at first when I insist on the scan, but the nurses are great and basically overrule him. Damien’s elderly grandmother arrives after a while, and I explain everything that’s been happening with him. She’s sweet and grateful for my help, but I can tell she’s been overwhelmed trying to raise him alone. I give her my number, and she agrees to let me know how he’s doing throughout the weekend and to bring him to see me at the clinic next Monday.
The EMTs are kind enough to give me a ride back to the football field since they’re headed there anyway, and Blake and JD thank me when I stop to give them an update on Damien before I return to the bleachers.
A smile spreads over Daisy’s face when she sees me from her place in the row behind Tenley and her mom, Therese. “I’m so glad you’re back. My nacho fries were getting cold and soggy,” she tells me as she hands over my burger.
“You didn’t have to wait for me to eat your food, Blondie,” I reply, unable to resist smiling back at her.
“You’re the manager of first-time experiences, remember? I couldn’t do this without your supervision.” She shrugs. “So, how’s Damien?”
“He’s all right, but he’s going to have to take it easy for a while. He might need to apply for some temporary accommodations at school, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he suffers from headaches and brain fog for a while.”
“Eh, the brain fog might not be a concussion thing,” she mutters, and I laugh. “Thanks for going to help him. Camellia’s lucky to have you around, you know.”
“I agree,” Tenley’s mom turns to add, patting me affectionately on the knee. “How’s the kid?”
“I’m thinking he’ll be fine after a few weeks of rest,” I say.
Tenley shoots me a smile as she rubs her belly absently. “That’s good. I’m sure the whole team appreciates your help, especially JD and Blake.”
“No worries. That’s what I’m here for,” I reply awkwardly before they turn their attention back to the game.
“All right, I’m starving,” Daisy says, nudging me. “Can we eat now?”
“Yeah.” I laugh. “ Bon appetite .” I hold up my burger, and she taps her tray against it.
“Cheese and biscuits, that’s the most disgustingly delicious thing I’ve ever eaten in my life!” she exclaims through a mouthful of cheese-covered Hot Fries. Then she hurriedly unwraps the pickle and takes a huge bite. “Mm, it’s eben bedder togedder!”
I chuckle at her again, reaching over to swipe a napkin over the cheese on her chin. “Better than scrambled eggs and cold sandwiches?”
She shovels more into her mouth. “Absolu-ley.”
“It’s not steak and lobster, but … you know, now that I think about it, I have been craving surf and turf,” I muse. “Just thought I’d mention it, since you’re buying dinner next time.”
She giggles and bumps her shoulder into mine. “As long as neither of us has to cook it.”