Dean strode back onto the field, his anger fueled by the sense that he deserved none of it. He stood next to Garrett, who was discreetly looking down at his clipboard. The players were setting up cones on the yard lines for yet another conditioning drill.
“My brother and I used to fight all the time when I was that age,” Garrett said. “All the time.”
“It’s me they’re pissed at.” Dean kept his eyes on the field, but he was too upset to concentrate. His glance flitted to the gate, where Robbie was still sitting on his patch of dirt. Bryan squatted in front of him, cajoling.
“I’m sorry, I have to go talk to them again,” Dean said. He walked back across the field toward his sons. He was aware of his players watching him, the sun shining on their white helmets. Behind them, the field goal’s yellow bars reached up, ecstatically, to frame the sky. It was a sight that, in any other year, would have filled Dean with a sense of happiness and anticipation. There was nothing he loved more than a hot summer day at the beginning of a new season, the way it stood in contrast to the nights to come: when the black sky would be kept at bay by bright lights, when the field would smell like kicked-up dirt and mud, when it would rain, or the wind would blow cold, and the game would go on anyway; when the crowds behind him would holler and cheer and stamp their feet on the bleachers, their noise the backdrop for what were actually very calm and decisive moments for Dean. He didn’t second-guess himself when he was on the field. Because then he was part of something bigger. But today, he felt uncertain and detached. There was something brutal about the sunshine, the way it brought everything into such sharp focus. It reminded him, he realized, of the day Nicole died, how bright and hot the sun had been when he and Stephanie arrived at the edge of the field, and how all the subtlety of the trail ride — the rich, faintly metallic smell of the creek bed and the layered cool shade of trees — fell away, and it was just the barn and the ambulance in the distance, glaring white.
He remembered Robbie’s face, too, that dark, dark terror, an animal bewilderment. His first instinct that afternoon had been to cover Robbie’s eyes, to pull him close to his own body. He had that instinct now, as he approached his sons. All at once he could see how dirty and tired they were, with sweat-dampened hair and knees scuffed with dust and grass stains. He saw in their expressions a mix of hope and fear.
He knew then that he was going to resign his coaching position.
Part Two
Chapter 4
Before the parade, Dean had gathered his team in the locker room and told them what he would announce at the parade’s end. The seniors took it the hardest. Brett Albright, Dean’s QB, lagged behind, waiting for Dean as he locked up.
“Coach, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’d much rather have you coach than Mr. Schwartz.”
“He’ll do a good job,” Dean said, sternly — but secretly pleased.
“I just always thought you’d be my coach senior year.”
“Me too,” Dean said. “But I have to do what’s best for my family.”
Brett nodded, but he didn’t make eye contact.
“You don’t need me,” Dean said. “You can lead this team. You know the game inside and out.”
Dean walked with Brett all the way to the parade’s starting point on Main Street, talking with him about his plans after graduation. Brett was thinking of junior college, and then maybe a four-year school depending on what he wanted to study. He was sweet and earnest with Dean in a way that Dean knew he probably wasn’t with his own parents — in a way that Robbie wasn’t with him. When Dean told his sons he was giving up coaching in order to spend more time at home, Robbie’s response was to shrug and then retreat to his room to do whatever he did in there. Bryan gave him a big hug and said, “I’m so glad!” And Dean thought, You’re not the one I’m doing it for.
The Labor Day parade was like a preview for Friday-night football, with the band, the cheerleaders, and the football players all in uniform. The blue-and-white color scheme looked glossy and new beneath the cloudless sky. Everyone was happy to be outside. Dean felt like a killjoy when they reached the parade’s end, in Willow Park. There, the Boosters had set up a small wooden stage for speeches from the mayor, the principal, the president of the Boosters Club, and of course, from Dean. Normally Dean introduced the senior players and went over the home game schedule and then led everyone in a fight song, but on that afternoon, he explained that he would be leaving his position as head coach. He didn’t give a reason, and it was awkward until Dean introduced Garrett as the new coach. Then everyone had a reason to applaud.
Afterward, Dean drove the boys all the way to Frederick, in the next county, where there would be no chance of running into anyone they knew. He took them shopping in Frederick’s busy downtown — not quite a mall, but there were chain stores like the Gap and Foot Locker. Robbie wanted a very specific pair of jeans and made them go to multiple stores.
“How do you know which pair to get?” Dean asked, slightly annoyed but curious, too. He had never been someone who paid much attention to clothing.
“He just sees what other people are wearing,” Bryan said.
“It’s not that simple,” Robbie said, going into the dressing room.
“You should try something on, too,” Dean said to Bryan.
“You can get me what’s on sale.”
“Don’t be silly, pick out what you want,” Dean said.
“I don’t want to waste money.”
“Why are you worried about that?”
“Because you just quit your job.”
“No, I didn’t.” Dean knelt down. “I’m still teaching gym.”
“But didn’t you get paid a lot more for football?”
“Not really.”
“Oh.” Bryan still seemed confused. But also relieved. “I guess I’ll go get some jeans, then. Can we get sneakers, too?”
“Sure.”
It occurred to Dean that they hadn’t been spending much at all. They hadn’t gone on summer vacation, and if they ate out, it was the Red Byrd or subs from Sheetz. Dean felt guilty. When they were finished shopping, he took them to one of the nicer restaurants in the area, a Mexican place that Laura had mentioned to him once, describing it as “surprisingly authentic.” He wondered if she’d actually traveled to Mexico, if she could speak Spanish. She seemed like someone who would know another language for no particular reason.
The restaurant was popular, filled with couples sitting at small, colorfully painted tables, but the staff was friendly to kids. Dean got a margarita before dinner and tried to relax and enjoy his sons’ company. When the food came, the boys had good appetites and everyone cheered up. The guacamole had a secret ingredient and if you could guess what it was, you got a free dessert. Bryan guessed “mayonnaise” and the waitress laughed, shaking her head, but brought him some churros anyway.
The answering machine was blinking crazily when they finally got home. Dean waited until the boys were in bed to listen to the messages. Joelle and Ed had called, as well as Garrett, the Boosters president, the school principal, a couple of parents, and the local newspaper reporter. He had warned everyone in advance, but they all wanted to commiserate after the fact. Dean called back the reporter, who asked Dean if he was sick. Dean said no, he just needed to spend more time with his family.
“I know that sounds like an excuse, but in my case it’s true,” Dean said.
“Why’d you wait so long to resign?” the reporter asked.