Tim Ferris, whose family owns the club, greets us outside the Players Grill. He looks like a movie star from another era with his tall, blond, still-tanned good looks. Come to think of it, he looks exactly like he did in high school. “Noah Riley, no way! What are you doing here, man?”
Shaking his hand, I tell him, “I moved home a couple of months ago. I’m the new coach of the Elk Lake High School basketball team.” I try to make it sound like this is an exciting endeavor, but I’m pretty sure Tim is too savvy to buy it.
He confirms this when he asks, “Why in the world would you want to be Coach Crappie?” He laughs at his own joke.
“It’s a long story,” I tell him. Gesturing toward Allie, I say, “Do you remember Allie Rogers? She was my sister’s best friend growing up.”
Tim turns his attention to Allie. “Your parents are Margaret and Bob, right? If I’m not mistaken you had your wedding here.” His gaze shifts between me and Allie as though he’s wondering what we’re doing here together.
Allie notices and hurries to tell him, “Brett and I are divorced, so I moved home. I’m teaching English at the high school.” She feels the need to add, “Noah and I are just friends. I coach the girls’ basketball team and the kids all practice together.”
“Ah, so this is a Friday night brainstorming sesh, huh?” Tim steps in front of us and leads the way into the dining room. Dark navy velvet curtains hang from the floor-to-ceiling windows along the north-facing wall and several large crystal chandeliers are suspended overhead. All-in-all, it’s a far cry from the pizza place we were planning on eating.
“We’ve got a lot to talk about before our season starts,” Allie assures him.
I’m starting to worry that our meal is going to be all work and no play. Once we’re seated and Tim walks away, I ask, “Are we really going to talk about basketball all night?”
“I hope not,” she says. She puts her napkin in her lap before picking up the menu.
“Why did you tell Tim that then?”
Lowering her menu, she replies, “I don’t want him speculating about us.”
“Why do you care what Tim thinks?”
“I don’t care about him more than anyone else. It’s just that you’re going to be leaving Elk Lake eventually and I don’t need people gossiping that I’ve lost another man.”
I hadn’t thought about that. I imagine with her parents being members here, most of the club knows the story of how her marriage ended. Which means there has to have been a good deal of gossip. I can see how that would make her leery of broadcasting a new relationship. Not that we’re in a relationship.
“I didn’t think about it like that.”
“Why would you?” She takes a sip of her water and looks back at her menu. “I’m getting the salad and the clam chowder. How about you?”
“I’m getting the fish and chips,” I tell her. “And probably the apple galette for dessert. I’ll share it with you, if you want.”
She scoffs. “I’ll take a bite of your fish and chips, but I’m getting the Mississippi mud pie, and before you ask, I’m not sharing.”
“That’s not very nice of you,” I tease. Meanwhile, I love that she’s not one of those women who pretends to eat nothing more than a lettuce leaf while on a date.
“I haven’t had it in three years,” she responds. “Maybe once I’ve come back a few more times, I’ll feel more generous.”
“That would mean we’d have to eat here again.” I gaze across the table at her challengingly. “Should we make plans?”
“I can come with my parents,” she tells me. While that’s true, if she hasn’t had the mud pie in three years, it doesn’t sound like she’s done that. Although for the sake of keeping the peace, I don’t mention it.
After the waiter comes and takes our order, he asks what we’d like to drink. I ask Allie if she’d like to split a bottle of white wine, but she replies, “I’m only good for one glass or I’ll fall asleep. I’d better order it that way.” I do the same.
“This is better than pizza, isn’t it?” I ask once the waiter is gone.
“It is,” she agrees. “But pizza is better for the budget.”
I don’t really know what Allie’s finances are like, so I don’t know what, if anything, she got in her divorce. While I probably shouldn’t be nosy, I still am. “It’s got to be tough going from two incomes to one.”
“Not really,” she says. “It’s a lot cheaper to live in Elk Lake than Madison, and until recently I’ve been staying with my folks.”
“Did you and Brett own a house?” I ask her.
“We were saving for one. When we split, I took my half and went to Europe. I spent it all there.”
