Playing at Love

by Ophelia London

  Before Mac could begin the Chinese water torture to get Tess to spill her guts, Tess told her everything: about that night at the pool, that morning in her mother’s kitchen, right up to when Tess went out to get Jack’s cell phone.

  “I didn’t mean to read it,” Tess said. “But when I tapped the screen to get to the contact page on his phone, I must’ve touched something because a new text message just popped up.”

  “What did it say?” Mac asked, leaning forward, her hands flat on the tabletop.

  Tess took a long drink first. “It said, ‘I love you,’ and it was signed ‘xxxx, Jenna.’”

  “Jenna? Who the devil is Jenna?”

  Tess lifted her shoulders. “I have no idea. And it was sent five minutes earlier, so it wasn’t like it was an old message.”

  “What is Jack doing hitting on you where your mother makes pancakes if he has some skanky chick texting him in the middle of a Saturday? Well, you need to talk to him. You have to.” She made a fist and thrust it into the air. “For womankind everywhere!”

  Tess sighed, feeling completely drained. “No women’s lib tonight, please? I’m breaking here.”

  “Oh.” Mac lowered her hand. “You really like this guy.”

  Tess nodded miserably.

  “Well then, go for it.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. Screw it.” Mac snapped her fingers in the air. “You like him; he likes you. I say go for it. And we don’t really know who the text is from, right? Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

  “It’s complicated, Mac.”

  “What is?”

  “Well, first of all, we’re pitted against each other at work; the whole town knows that. How would it look if it got out that Jack and I were together?”

  “Yeah.” Mac nodded somberly. “I see what you mean. Whichever program got cut, those supporters would have a conniption.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.” She took a drink. “It’s also hard for me to forget about the past.”

  “I thought you said you forgave him for that.”

  “I did.” Tess kneaded her fist into her forehead. “But he ran out on me once. Maybe that’s a habit he never broke. I couldn’t handle that again, not so soon after Sam.” Just saying the name of her ex made Tess feel queasy.

  “So soon?” Mac sat up as tall as her tiny frame could. “It was two years ago. And that guy was an idiot. You promised me a year ago that you wouldn’t waste one more ounce of energy on him.”

  “I know,” Tess said. “And I don’t. It’s not Sam, really; he’s just the most recent example. I’ve always had bad luck with men. I seem to pick the ones who feel the need to disappear. It’s hard to trust someone when you’re constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

  Mac reached out and put her hand over her friend’s, frowning sympathetically.

  “I want to trust Jack, but I just can’t. Especially after knowing there’s another woman in the picture.”

  “I’m telling you, babe,” Mac said, pushing the breadbasket toward her, “you could totally take her. Whoever she is. Have some carbs to build up your strength.”

  Tess couldn’t help laughing. “Thanks.” She pushed back her hair. “Honestly, though, it was stupid for Jack and me to even be thinking about hooking up. ” She reached out and toyed with the saltshaker. “We might lose the music program, Mac,” Tess said, looking up at her friend. “I need to focus and stop obsessing over some guy. These kids deserve better than that.”

  …

  Jack fingered the whistle around his neck. Because of some minor insubordination, the team was running suicides up and down the field. That was what tended to happen after a big win: the boys would get cocky and mouthy, thinking they knew better than the entire coaching staff.

  What surprised him the most was that it had come from Zack Williams, his quarterback. Sure, he’d played great in the game they’d won last Friday, but that was three days ago—the celebrating should be over. So for Williams to swagger onto the practice field today and not do what he was told was unacceptable. Williams was the leader of this team, and the QB needed to understand that everything he did on that field affected his teammates. Jack could’ve made Williams run the suicides alone, but he thought this was a more valuable lesson.

  “All right!” Jack called out to them. “Bring it in.” Out of breath, the players returned to the center of the field. “Voyles, take the line. Special teams.” He pointed. “That corner.” He flipped a page on the clipboard he was holding and read for a few minutes. “Rivers!” Jack called, turning to the sideline where Andy Rivers was running in place. “Griffin needs a ball down at the five. Run one over there, will ya?”

  “Sure, Coach,” Andy said. He picked up a football, held it in his hand for a few seconds, then set his posture like he was about to throw it.

  “No, son,” Jack said. “Just run it, don’t—” But Jack didn’t finish. His eyes went wide as he watched the kid throw a perfect spiral fifty yards down the field. A stunned receiver caught it. Jack walked to Andy’s side. “You been holding out on me, Rivers?”

  The kid looked confused, then anxious. “No, sir,” he said. “I was just…”

  “You’ve got a good arm on you,” Jack said. He wished he’d paid more attention to Andy during tryouts, instead of just writing him off as not athletic enough. Maybe he could use the kid after all. “Tell ya what, why don’t you work with the offensive team today. Send some passes.”

  “Really?”

  Jack was trying very hard to keep his tough, rigid coach’s expression in place, but the way Andy’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning made him want to grin. “Go on, now,” he said. “Show me that move again.”

  “Hi, Coach.” Jack turned around. Mackenzie, or Mac, Tess’s friend, was standing on the sidelines next to the water cooler. She was wearing a yellow dress and looked severely out of place.

  “Mackenzie,” Jack said politely.

  “Mac,” she corrected.

  Jack couldn’t help smiling at that. Duly noted: she prefers her nickname. He looked at his watch. “Don’t you have a class?”

  Mac waved a hand. “I put on a movie so they could sleep. Woody Allen.”

  Jack wanted to laugh, but he wasn’t sure that was the correct response, so he just nodded.

  “So,” Mac said a moment later, “how’s it going?”

  “Fine.” Jack adjusted his hat and squinted up at the sun. “Can’t complain.”

  Well, he could complain, of course. His team’s standing was 3-and-1—no erasing that loss—his quarterback was giving him grief, and he hadn’t talked to Tess in a week. Not properly, at least. He’d stopped by her office once, but she was meeting with some students. And later, he’d nearly run into her head-on in the hallway. She’d looked so shocked to see him that it seemed that she was about to burst into tears. Her broken expression had startled Jack so much that he’d stepped back, muttered, “Sorry, excuse me,” and let her pass. Why hadn’t he stopped her? Since her disappearing act at her parents’ house, he figured she needed space. And who was he to get upset about her disappearing?

  “Can I help you with something?” Jack finally asked Mac. Normally, he might have told her he was busy with practice, but since half of his first string was running drills, he walked over to her.

  “No, but I can help you.” Mac’s hands were planted on her hips. She looked small despite the probably four-inch heels she was wearing. “Look,” she said, “maybe this is none of my business, but you should know that Tess is my very best friend in the world. She’s honest and she’s trusting and…and she’ll do anything for someone she cares about.” She sealed her lips together as if still deciding whether to say any more. Jack waited. “She might not have the guts to tell you off, but I do.”

  When a player went running by, she gazed out to the field, her expression turning stony. “All you football players are alike,” she muttered, shaking her head. “You think you’re God’s gift and can ge
t away with anything.”

  “These are kids,” Jack said, lowering his clipboard. “And honestly, I have no idea what you’re talking about. If something is wrong with Tess—”

  “She knows you’re seeing someone else,” Mac said, her tough expression breaking a little. “So just…keep away from her, okay? ’Cause I know people; Italian people.” She smoothed down her dress. “That’s all.”

  Jack scratched his head, watching as she walked away, teetering up the stairs.

  What was that? he wondered, turning back to the playing field. Why would Tess think he was seeing someone? He dropped his chin and kicked his heel into the grass, digging a little divot. Didn’t Tess know that his current life was dedicated to this football team? Well, that and Jenna?

  Jack slowly lifted his eyes, turning his head toward the school.

  “Danny,” he said, handing off his clipboard, “take over. I have something to take care of.”

  …

  Tess was sitting at the piano in the middle of teaching her last class of the day when Jack came barging through her door.

  “Hey. It’s Coach Marshall.” One of the tenors stood up and the whole back row looked like they were about to come out of their chairs.

  Tess quickly got to her feet, ready to intervene if the choir decided to go all Children of the Corn on Jack. But that was unnecessary. Evidently the pranksters still preferred to stay incognito.

  “Oh, hello,” Jack said to them. “Sorry to interrupt.” He sounded a little winded, as though he’d just been running. “I need to talk to you,” he said to Tess in a low voice, then nodded toward the door. When she didn’t move, he sighed. “Will you step into your office with me for a moment, please?”

  Tess cleared her throat. “Aimee,” she said to a girl in the first row, “would you come to the piano and pick out the melody from the beginning?” She shot a quick glance at Jack, then back at her student. “I’ll be just a minute.”

  Jack was holding open the door as Tess stepped into her private office at the back of the music room. It had been over a week since she’d been alone with him, and she was a little depressed to realize that none of her feelings had gone away. He looked so cute in his coaching getup that it made her want to whimper.

  “What do you need?” she asked, trying to sound detached. “If I turn my back on them for too long, they’ll spit-wad the ceiling.” She glanced toward the door.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Jack said, as if he was just now realizing that he’d totally interrupted her class. “I didn’t mean to drag you out—”

  “Like a caveman?” Tess finished for him, cocking an eyebrow.

  Jack stared at her for a long moment, then he made a fist and rapped it twice over his heart. “Oog-uh, oog-uh.”

  Despite herself, Tess burst out laughing. So did Jack. It was a good thirty seconds before they remembered the room full of kids and hushed themselves.

  Still smiling, Jack pulled off his ball cap and ran a hand through the top of his hair. Tess tried not to imagine doing that with her own fingers, over and over again. This was a sickness.

  “Um, so?” she prompted, making herself ignore the sexy way the front of his hair fell across his forehead. “If this isn’t life or death, can it wait?” As she reached for the doorknob, Jack grabbed her wrist.

  “Jenna’s my daughter.”

  Tess froze, staring straight ahead at the door to her choir room. “What?” she said, turning back to him.

  He nodded. “She’s my daughter. She’s eight.” Tess couldn’t help noticing the sparkle in his eyes. “Her mother and I divorced five years ago.”

  “You have a daughter?”

  Jack pulled back a little smile. “She does ballet.”

  “She’s your daughter.” Tess felt like she needed to repeat it. “That makes sense,” she said, mostly to herself, her eyes drifting toward the worktable stacked with piles of sheet music.

  “The other day, at your parents’ house,” Jack said, “I think we had some miscommunication there at the end.” Tess followed his eyes as they both looked down at his hand still holding her wrist. Tess was starting to feel a little overheated standing so close to him in her small office. “With a certain text message?” Jack added.

  Tess’s skin was starting to tingle pleasantly under his touch. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to read it. It was just there on the screen.”

  “I don’t mind that you saw it. She’s not a secret. In fact, it was my fault; I should have told you about her sooner. So.” He tilted his chin to look her directly in the eyes. “Was that the only reason you took off that day?”

  “Yes.” Tess nodded.

  “And that’s why you avoided me last week?”

  She lowered her chin and laughed. “Yes. But, Jack, I’ve been thinking a lot since then, and we were right the first time.” She lowered her voice. “That night at the pool? We were right to stop.” She nodded toward her classroom, where she could hear faint singing and single notes on the piano. “These kids are counting on us. You know how bad it would look if it got out that you and I were…” She shrugged. “You know.”

  “Yeah.” Jack rocked his jaw. “I know.”

  “I’ve only got a few more days to prepare my choir for Invitationals; it’s such an important meet for growing their confidence in anticipation of the spring competition season.” Her throat suddenly felt tight and teary, thinking about how hard her kids had been working. “And you, I’m sure you’ve got an important game coming up. Right?” She waited for Jack to nod.

  After a deep breath, she went on. “So, we just…” Slowly, she reached up and took his hand, sliding it off her wrist.

  …

  Jack couldn’t help noticing the expression in Tess’s eyes when she dropped his hand. She looked crushed. And he felt a little crushed, too. His heart had been beating so fast as he touched her.

  What were they doing?

  He stepped back to give them both some space. Tess was right. It seemed like every time they were together, they were on the verge of something—either that or they were arguing. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with either. But he liked this woman more and more; he wasn’t ready yet to give her up completely.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” he said after a few moments, doing his best to sound more professional. “About our little noncompetition. Have you noticed how things have changed around here?”

  “You mean how our school has turned into the Hatfields and McCoys?” Tess said, leaning back against her desk. “Teachers who used to be friends are no longer speaking to each other.”

  “The student body is just as bad. Did you catch the clever saying that was chalked on the courtyard this morning before it was hosed off?”

  “Yeah,” Tess said. It looked like she was trying not to smile. “Interesting play on the word score.”

  “Is this our fault?” Jack asked.

  “No.” Tess answered quickly, as if she’d once wondered the same thing. “It’s that dumbass Garcia’s fault; they should’ve fired him years ago. This wouldn’t be happening if the school board had a decent leader. But…” She sighed and tugged at a strand of her hair. “That’s neither here nor there; you’re right, we do have a problem.”

  “We should do something,” Jack said, noticing the shelf behind Tess. It was lined with rows and rows of music books; some looked very old, collector’s pieces, maybe. Jack had to admit that sometimes he forgot that what he was fighting for would take away something very important to her. But that wasn’t a fair way to be thinking, either. He had his kids to consider, those boys who gave their hearts and souls, leaving everything on the field for him. He owed his team, just like Tess owed hers.

  “The staff at school,” Jack said a moment later, “it shouldn’t be so divided. That isn’t good for anyone. And it’s trickling into the community.”

  “I’ve noticed that, too.”

  “Since no one else is stepping up, I suppose we should.”


  “I’m sure Walker would agree with that.”

  Jack rubbed a hand over his chin, thinking for a moment. “The football team has a bye week this Friday. So we don’t have a game. How about we get together to figure something out.”

  “Jack.” Tess rolled her eyes. “We’ve been over this. It’s not a good idea if we—”

  “I don’t mean that. Control yourself.”

  Tess pressed her lips together, as though she was stifling a laugh. At the same time, Jack was trying not to stare at those lips. “What I meant,” he said quickly, “is that we should talk about the school, figure out how to make things better around here. If we even can. Shouldn’t we at least sit down and try? We could meet on Friday,” Jack said. “If you’re free,” he added. “Not a date. Strictly Franklin High business.”

  Jack noticed how wary she looked at first, but then something on her face seemed to change. “I guess that would be okay,” she finally agreed.

  “My house,” Jack suggested. “I’ll cook.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Pasta or pasta?”

  Tess laughed. “All right. Friday it is. What’s your address?”

  After Jack grabbed a pen off her desk and wrote it down, he couldn’t help feeling relieved, a bit hopeful, even though it was not a date.

  “Well, I need to get out there,” Tess said, gesturing toward the music room.

  “And I should get back to the field.”

  They’d both said their good-byes, so why was neither moving? Jack suddenly noticed that there was no piano sounds on the other side of the door. How long had they been in her office? Was school already over?

  “I’ll just…,” Jack said, reaching for the doorknob.

  Tess ran a hand across her collar, as if needing a moment to make sure she looked okay. She looked more than okay. Then she nodded to him and they both exited the office.

  Though the room was dead quiet, the students were still there, sitting at four levels of chairs, kind of like mini bleachers. They were probably divided into different vocal sets, Jack considered, though he really didn’t know much about choirs. He felt every eye on him.