Chapter 12
“This reminds me of something. What is it about this color?” Jannie held up the glass and studied the liquid in the dim light of the bar’s overhead bulbs.
I thought of old iodine but she had something else in mind.
“Oh, I know! It takes me back to when I was hiking in the Grand Canyon in July, about ten years ago. There were signs all over that warned you to carry sufficient water to prevent dehydration, yadda yadda, but I figured that I was ok. After a while, I went behind a bush to pee and, holy shit, when I saw the color of that—”
“Next time, you’ll know to drink more fluids,” I interrupted her. I had heard the story of her oddly colored urine before and I didn’t want to listen to it again. But unfortunately, she was correct. “Our beer really isn’t Woodsmen orange. You’re right, it is more like…”
“At least it’s different,” she said complacently. “And I put out my sign.”
She had hung her sign in the window, but it was only a piece of paper with “Go Woodsmen!” in orange letters outlined in black.
Marketing wasn’t her thing but it wasn’t mine, either, so I hadn’t been much help.
“Maybe we should make it bigger?” I suggested.
My throat hurt due to all the screaming I’d done and I was exhausted like I’d been out on the field myself.
My headache was gone and I was glad about that, but I just wanted to go home, to Everett’s house.
Instead, here I was at Jannie’s empty bar where neither the sign nor the promise of orange beer had attracted any customers as of yet.
I was sorry for her sake but glad that I didn’t have to do anything except sit.
She sipped the orange beer she’d poured for herself, scratched her head under her tricorn hat, and then wiped off her fingers on her shirt. “Tell me all about the game.”
Well, I didn’t know why I had ever thought that football was boring. “It was so exciting that I could hardly stand it. I thought the preseason was intense but the real season is almost overwhelming. But it was so much fun,” I assured her. “I loved it.”
“And your boy played well.”
“He was great.” He’d been calm, accurate, and wonderful. A true leader, and there had been no ambulance balls, so I thought that those naysaying coaches had better apologize. They probably wouldn’t. People didn’t like to, not even when they were very wrong.
After the fourth quarter had ended, I’d stayed to see some of the players mingle and chat, remembering when Willow and I had walked out on the frozen grass to talk to Everett when he’d played for the Junior Woodsmen.
That wasn’t allowed here. He had spoken to one of the Portland coaches and then one of their players had approached him, too.
I’d immediately sat up from where I’d slouched to rest in my orange seat after the cheering had finally stopped.
But nothing terrible happened on the field, and I didn’t need to be watching his back.
Neither man smiled but they had talked for a few moments and before shaking hands then splitting off to jog to the tunnels toward the locker rooms.
And then I’d had to leave, too. Jannie didn’t care about me being a few minutes late but with all the traffic around the stadium, it was more than a few minutes. It hadn’t mattered, because her promotional ideas hadn’t worked and she’d been the only one here. Now there were two of us.
Until the door opened. “Hi,” Everett said as he came in. “I heard there was orange beer…” He spotted me shaking my head and making an X with my arms. “I’ll take something from a can,” he concluded.
“Come sit down,” Jannie told him, patting one of the barstools. “Zoey, you probably know what he likes to drink.”
Mostly stuff with prebiotics and electrolytes, but there was none of that here so I picked something that I knew was safe. “A can of tonic water it is,” I said, like that was some grand proposition. “I didn’t know you were coming. I’m glad.”
He looked tired but he smiled at me, just like he had before the game. “I got thirsty. I invited some people, too.”
And then the door opened again, and a giant man entered. Then another.
“Remember these guys? We saw them a while ago when we were out to eat,” Everett said, and I did remember the Woodsmen offensive line.
“They were talking about going out after the game, and I said the first round at Jannie’s was on me.
You told me some things before about making friends, how buying drinks for people was the way to go in elementary school. ”
A big blonde man offered his hand to me. “Ma’am,” he said, and we shook. He nearly took my arm off. “I’ll try an orange beer.” He looked puzzled by the color but finished it in less than a second.
But it wasn’t just the Woodsmen who showed up—their fans tracked them, and they also came.
Suddenly, the bar was packed. I had never seen such a crowd in Jannie’s place before, not even when my parents had held their wedding reception here.
I had been old enough to remember the occasion (but not old enough to be in a bar).
My mother and Jannie had gotten into a screaming match and had tried to take it into the parking lot, but in the darkness out there, my mom had tripped in her heels and broken her wrist. Both the fight and the party had ended.
Tonight, there was no fighting. We were run-off-our-feet busy, racing to tables and back to the bar to fill orders, putting on gloves to unplug two of the toilets (they always clogged), and hurrying to get a mop and towels after several of the fans poured their “orange” beers out on the floor.
“That wasn’t very nice,” I said, but they had paid for those and it was hard to blame them for being disgusted by the color.
After a few rounds, most of the Woodsmen offense moved to another bar and their fans/hangers-on went with them, until only Jannie and I were left with the sticky puddle we’d been unable to totally clean. And also, Everett had stayed.
He hadn’t strayed from the can of tonic water, but the other people had really drunk a lot and Jannie was practically dancing with happiness. But all of us were also yawning. “I’m going to close up early,” she told us. “This is going in the books as my best night ever.”
“It has to go in the books for real,” I warned her. “We’re going to work on your accounting next week.”
“I’m leaving too,” he said to me, and stood. “You drive in front and I’ll follow in the truck.”
But I had to clean up the bar, and I sent him on his way without me.
It had been the best night ever for Jannie but it was also great for me.
I’d gotten to go to the Woodsmen game, and I’d loved it.
Everett had been happy that I was there—he’d said that it made a difference to him.
He’d played amazingly well, proving once and for all that he was the superior QB.
Then he’d gotten so many guys to come here and they’d brought a crowd with them.
I didn’t even mind cleaning up the puddle, although I now suspected that it wasn’t just beer that looked like urine.
There actually might have been urine in it, too.
There were lights on at the house when I finally made it back but when I went in, Everett was asleep on the couch.
I debated whether or not to wake him, but he’d slept there last winter after he’d gotten the concussion and I’d already decided that it was more comfortable than the mattress I’d bought for Willow and me to use in our former studio apartment.
I stood, smiling down at him, and then I got a blanket even though this house had great temperature control.
I could already tell that I wouldn’t be able to see my breath here in the winter…
of course, I would move out by the time that winter came around and when the football season was over, he would go back to Arizona to his grandma’s house.
The next morning, I slept in very late for me. When I got up and dressed, the couch was empty in the living room but I heard noise in the gym. Everett was walking slowly on the treadmill and he waved when I entered.
“I thought this was your day off,” I commented.
“I’m trying to loosen up a little.” He swung his arms. “It’s a long season and if I go down, Dallas is going to take the spot. I made you a smoothie, if you want it.” He pointed to the mini fridge.
“Thank you.” I got it and took a sip. It tasted a little like lawn clippings, but I was sure it was good for me.
“Dallas Laforet wouldn’t ever get the starting job for keeps, because you’re better.
” I thought about how I’d wished harm on that guy.
Just a little harm, but it still hadn’t been nice.
“Maybe he could go be the starter somewhere else,” I suggested.
“Probably not.” He hit a button and the treadmill slid to a stop. “It’s hard enough to get into this league. I always said that I would play pro football like it was a given, but I had no idea how hard it was going to be. I didn’t know how lucky I was.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
He stepped off the machine and sat on one of the benches he used for lifting. “You think I was humble and grateful?”
“No, but I don’t think it was lucky. I think you got here because of talent but you must have worked at it, too. You couldn’t have spent all your time gluing doors closed.”
“And in the emergency room, getting my fingers separated,” he added.
“You didn’t throw any of those emergency room balls last night. Did anyone apologize to you?”
“Like my former teammate? The coaches?” He shook his head. “Jarron was right to be angry at me but he said that we were all good, and I think we are. The QBs coach and I are going to talk today about things I can improve.”
“What things? There aren’t any.”
“I’ll tell him you said so. What do you want to do today? What do you usually do on weekends?”