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Which was no cause for celebration.
“Griff?”
He was startled to find Bolly standing elbow to elbow with him on the practice field sideline. The sportswriter was looking at him strangely.
“Sorry. I was—”
“A million miles away. I had to say your name three times. Were you asleep?”
Griff removed his sunglasses and blinked against the blistering sun. “In this heat? Hardly. I was concentrating on Jason. He’s showing some good hustle out there today.”
“Thanks to you.”
“No, he’s applying himself. Credit belongs to him.”
“The boy is obsessed with football. Worries his mom.”
“How come?”
“She’s afraid he’ll go whole hog and get hurt.”
“Moms are like that.” He supposed.
“She’d rather he play badminton.”
Griff winced and Bolly laughed. “My sentiments exactly. Say, listen, I just got a call. I’ve been granted an interview with that new goalie the Stars signed yesterday, but it’s a narrow window of opportunity before he flies home to Detroit. If I rush, I can catch him at DFW before his flight. I hate to pull Jason out of practice. Would you mind driving him home?”
“Of course not.”
“I wouldn’t ask, but my mother-in-law had to go to the podiatrist, and my wife volunteered to drive her, so—”
“Bolly, go. Should I stay with Jason till you get home?”
“No, just see him into the house, make sure he locks the door. He knows the rules of staying by himself.”
“Okay. No problem.”
Bolly looked toward the field and picked out his son, who barely had time to hand the ball off to a halfback before being slammed to the ground by a tackle. But he wasn’t down for long. He was back on his feet in time to see the halfback make a first down. He jumped straight up into the air, raised his fist, and whooped with joy.
Bolly, still watching, smiled, but then a worry line formed between his brows. “Griff, on second thought, maybe—”
“You can trust him with me, Bolly.”
Bolly turned back to him and held his gaze for several seconds while silently debating the advisability of asking for this favor. Then he nodded. “I appreciate it, Griff. Thanks.”
When practice was over, Jason jogged off the field toward Griff, who gave him a high five. “Great practice, QB. Especially that last offensive series.”
“Thanks.” The boy was red in the face, and sweat had plastered his hair to his head beneath his helmet, but he was basking in the praise.
Griff told him about Bolly’s unexpected errand. “Which leaves me your ride home today.”
“You mean it?”
“Don’t get excited. My car’s crap.”
On the way, Griff pulled into a Braum’s. “I could use a milk shake. How ’bout you?”
As long as they were there, they decided they might just as well have burgers and fries to go with their shakes. They were seated in a booth, talking amiably about Jason’s team and the strengths and weaknesses of various players, when Griff became aware of a trio of construction workers. He’d noticed them when they came in but had given them only a passing glance before returning his attention to Jason.
