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“It worked out okay, apparently,” Griff said.
“Lucky for me.”
As drunk as Bolly had been that night, Griff was surprised that he even remembered his emotional meltdown. Maybe he’d needed that catharsis to make things right at home. He and his wife were still together. He had a nice house, a kid with a reasonable haircut and no visible body piercings. Why bring it up now?
“I never thanked you for keeping my confidence,” Bolly said quietly.
Griff looked over at him.
Shrugging self-consciously, Bolly removed his tinted eyeglasses and twirled them by the stem. “A lot of my colleagues cheat on their wives when they’re on the road. They sure as hell don’t cry over them. I’d given you plenty to talk about in the locker room. But you never breathed a word of it to anybody.”
“I didn’t have any friends, remember? Nobody to tell.”
Bolly gave him a wry look. “But you never brought it up to me, either. Held it over me. You know. In fact, you pretended it hadn’t happened.” He ducked his head and squinted down at his sneakers. “And you never called in the favor, not even when you came asking me for a job. That’s been eating at me ever since.”
Bolly replaced his glasses. Several minutes passed while they watched as Jason’s coach gave him some pointers on taking the snap. Finally Bolly said, “This guy’s okay for a middle school coach, but Jason could use some extra help. I realize it’s not much of a job. In fact, Griff, it’s not—”
“I accept.”
“Hold on. Any offer of payment I make will be insulting.”
“You don’t have to pay me. I need something constructive to do. Buy a dozen footballs for me to use, and we’ll call it square.”
Bolly considered him a moment, then seemed to reach a decision. “How about here, an hour before practice each day?”
“Suits me.” They shook hands. “Tell Jason to come prepared to work his butt off.”
“He’ll be thrilled. Start tomorrow?”
“I’ll be here.”
Bolly stood and clumped down several of the bleachers, then stopped and turned back. “This doesn’t mean I excuse what you did, Griff. You’re still on probation, with me as well as with the court. The least hint of trouble, you’re outta here.”
“There won’t be any trouble. I swear.”
Bolly nodded, then continued down the bleachers to join the other dads who were standing on the sideline watching practice.
Griff wasn’t invited to join them, and wouldn’t be, but that was all right. He felt better than he had in a long while. He had a project now, something to look forward to, a reason for getting out of bed in the morning. And for coaching an aspiring quarterback, no one was better qualified. Knowing that made him feel good.
He was smiling when his cell phone rang.
He arrived ahead of her and parked in back. A few minutes later, she pulled her car in behind his.
“A meeting ran long,” she said as she got out.
“I just got here myself.”
Together they walked toward the front of the house. While she was unlocking the door, he looked in both directions along the street. No olive se
dan. He’d come straight from the middle school practice field and knew he hadn’t been followed there. In fact, he hadn’t seen Rodarte or anyone suspicious since their last confrontation—a month ago, he realized.
But he didn’t think for a moment that Rodarte had been scared off. In fact, his noticeable absence was unnerving. Griff would prefer him to stay visible, at least occasionally. With that in mind, as soon as they got inside, he asked Laura if she’d seen the guy he’d warned her about.
“In the ugly green car?” One of her eyebrows arched slightly.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Do you think I made him up?”
“What I think is that you took an unnecessary risk of being seen with me.”
