“Glad I made it.” Jess thought she caught a slight frown on Juanita’s face when she opened the door. “I was afraid you might be closing early.”
“Well, we were hoping we might, but come on in.” No doubt about it, Juanita was perturbed, even though the diner wasn’t scheduled to close for nearly an hour. “I suppose you want that salad?”
“I think I’ll try something different today.” Jess reached for the menu Juanita wasn’t quite holding out to her. Being an outsider had its limits. “What’s the special?”
“Right there as you came in.” Juanita tilted her head toward the whiteboard mounted by the door. “Friday is cheese enchiladas.”
“Okay. I’ll give those a try. I guess there’s no point in asking you if they’re good.” If Jess thought smiling and trying to engage Juanita in conversation was going to lighten things up, she thought wrong. For once, Juanita was in no mood to chat.
“Red or green?”
“Red or green what?” Jess glanced at her menu again, looking for a clue.
Juanita shifted her weight to her other foot and may have rolled her eyes. “Chile. You want red or green chile on your enchiladas?”
“Oh, that’s right. Um, I don’t know. Is there any difference, other than the color, of course?”
This time there was no mistaking Juanita’s eye-roll, and Jess remembered just a beat too late that Juanita and her husband had a huge chile farm just outside of town.
“Our red can be hotter. But the green’s pretty hot too. It’s up to you.” She tapped her pad with her pencil.
“Green, I guess.”
“I’ll get this right in.” Juanita took the menu and ripped the top sheet off her order pad. “Oh, you want an egg on it?”
“An egg?”
Juanita’s voice had the studied patience of a preschool teacher. “Yes, an egg. Some people like an egg on their enchiladas. In fact, I’d recommend it for you. It kind of soothes the bite a little. So, an egg over easy?”
“You know what? Just bring me the salad.” Suddenly, Jess was done talking about the special of the day. Truth be told, she was pretty done with talking to Juanita at all. In fact, she had no idea how the Dip ’n’ Dine managed to stay open with a waitress who went around picking fights with the customers over their orders.
Juanita didn’t say anything. She just heaved a sigh, wadded up the order she had torn off her pad, and wrote another.
“Juanita, I’ll take this table.” Jess hadn’t seen Lainie when she came in, but there she was, smiling and touching Juanita’s shoulder. “There probably won’t be anyone else coming in. Why don’t you go on home? I’m sure Russ wants to get to the game early.”
Jess could have hugged her.
“Well, you need to get out of here as much as I do.” Juanita still sounded miffed, but Jess noticed that she did hand off the menu. “You don’t want to miss the Parade of Pumas.”
“I won’t miss anything. Ray’s coming by for me in an hour. We’ll have plenty of time to get there.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll drop this order off on my way to get my stuff.” Juanita’s mood had turned on a dime, and she smiled cheerfully at Jess. “You really ought to try those enchiladas sometime. And don’t forget the egg. The egg just makes it.”
Jess watched her stop by the window to the kitchen before disappearing in the back. “What was that all about?” She kept her voice to a bewildered whisper. “Is it really poor form to want dinner on the night there’s a game?”
Lainie laughed. “No, not at all. The season opener is a pretty big deal, which is why Juanita was in such a big hurry. Her husband is president of the Boosters, and they all sit in a special section on the fifty-yard line, and of course, he’s in the Parade of Pumas as well. But most Fridays are pretty sane, especially when the team is away. Except for homecoming—then it’s really crazy.”
“Bye now.” Juanita came back with her sweater on and her purse slung over her shoulder. She waved as she headed out the door. “Now don’t get so busy talking that you get behind. Ray has to make that parade, and you need to cheer him on.”
“We’ll be there.” Lainie looked toward the kitchen as the ding of a bell signaled Jess’s salad was ready. “Be right back.”
When she returned, she set the salad in front of Jess along with a small bowl of some kind of stew and a thick white tortilla wrapped in a napkin.
“What’s this?”
“This is from Carlos. Juanita’s voice has a way of carrying, and he heard your conversation earlier. He said to tell you he’d be happy to make you a salad every time you come in here, but he wants you to just try his green chile stew. It’s famous.”
Picking up her spoon, Jess regarded the stew with a little frown. “Is it hot?”
“You mean chile hot? Yeah, it’s got a little heat to it. That’s what the tortilla’s for. Spread butter on it, and then if your stew is hot, take a bite of tortilla. It’s a perfect combination.”
Jess did as she was told, and her eyes closed as the bite of tender pork and green chile warmed her mouth. “Oh, my. I may never order salad again. That is amazing.”
“It’s a favorite around here. Enjoy.” Lainie smiled. “Now, is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Just one thing. What is a Parade of Pumas? It sounds like something the animal rights people would be all over.”
Lainie laughed. “No, it’s nothing quite so dramatic. It’s just a Last Chance tradition that right before the team takes the field at the season opener, every former football player who can still fit in his letterman’s jacket—and a good many who shouldn’t even try—takes a walk around the track. Everybody cheers and they all wave and feel like heroes again. They go in order of the year they played, with the old guys out in front and last year’s graduates bringing up the rear. It’s sort of a rite of passage for them.”
“Ray takes part too? It just doesn’t sound like him.”
“Oh, yeah. Once a Puma, always a Puma. In fact, a bunch of guys he played with are coming back especially for this game, since they were all on Andy’s team.”
“Wow.” Jess pushed her salad aside so she could better concentrate on her green chile stew. “And I thought they were serious about football at Cal.”
Lainie threw up a hand. “Sister, you have no idea. Now, unless I can get you anything else, I’d probably better get to work. Ray will be here before I know it.”
“Go.” Jess waved her away. “I’d hate to have you late to the game on my account.”
As Lainie grabbed a tray and went from table to table picking up salt and pepper shakers, Jess turned her attention back to her meal. She had come to the Dip ’n’ Dine nearly every day since arriving in Last Chance, and the spicy aroma of green chile stew had greeted her every time she opened the door. What in the world had she been thinking to simply order salad without ever investigating that tantalizing fragrance? She tore off a piece of thick, warm, buttered tortilla and used it to wipe the last drops from her empty bowl. Next time, it would be the enchiladas—with an egg.
Ray was just getting out of his truck when Jess pushed through the door and out into the parking lot. His black letterman’s jacket with the gold leather sleeves still fit him well.
“Look at you!” Jess raised her eyebrows in appreciation. “That parade must be something to see. I’m beginning to be sorry I’m not going tonight.”
“There’s still plenty of time. You can change your mind, you know.” Ray grinned as he headed for the front door.
“I’m not that sorry.” With a wave, Jess slid behind the wheel of her car. “Have fun tonight.”
A long line of pickups and a few cars, all decorated in the green and white of San Ramon High and loudly blaring their horns, entered Last Chance from the north and began their noisy procession down Main Street to the high school just south of town. Jess waited until the last car was a block or two down the road before pulling out onto the road behind them. So far, Last Chance had consid
ered her merely uninformed and maybe a little eccentric to willfully miss the season opener, but if she were seen joining the opposition, who knows what damage that might do?
The streets were empty and, except for the sound of honking growing fainter in the distance, silent. To the west, the vivid crimson, coral, and gold of a desert sunset reached high in the darkening turquoise of the sky. Jess sighed and let her head drop against the headrest. Filling in for Dr. Benavides had been exhilarating, and she had loved every moment, but the week had been exhausting. Through it all, the peaceful quiet of a Friday night at home had hung before her like a carrot on a stick, but now that it actually lay before her, Jess felt a little out of sorts. Even in medical school, when her colleagues took advantage of the rare free moment to catch up on their sleep, Jess had wanted company. She missed her friends. People energized her, and an evening sitting cross-legged on the sagging sofa of a student apartment sharing everything from cat videos to solutions to the world’s problems to the deepest secrets of the heart was her idea of perfection. Loneliness, always hovering on the edges of her consciousness, moved in and threatened to crush her.
Enough of that. Jess rolled down her window and let the warm wind that always picked up at sundown fill her car with the fragrance of sun-warmed mesquite. You knew it was going to take a while to find your niche when you decided to move to a small town, so just get over it and quit feeling sorry for yourself. Call Mom if you have to talk to someone tonight.
Jess squared her shoulders as she turned off Main Street and headed for home. Giving herself stern lectures was something she did well, and furthermore, she usually listened. Becoming a part of Last Chance might not be easy, but she would do everything it took.
Just south of town, Jess could see the towering banks of lights illuminating the darkening sky. Well, almost everything.
“Mom?” Jess’s book kept her attention for almost an hour before the silence grew so heavy she could feel it pressing around her and she reached for her phone.
“Jess! How are you, honey? Everything okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine.” At the sound of her mother’s voice, Jess realized she didn’t feel fine at all. Tears stung her eyes. “I just miss you. That’s all.”
“We miss you too, but you’ve wanted a small town practice since you were a little girl, so we can’t feel too bad. You’re doing what you’ve always wanted to do.”
Jess drew a shaky breath. “Am I?”
“Oh, honey, you sound so sad. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. It’s just not what I thought it would be. There’s this waitress at the diner who yells at me every time I go in there, and everyone I meet tells me they already have a doctor before I even say anything, and they all think I’m strange because I don’t like football.”
“My goodness, that is rough.” Her mom’s voice comforted Jess like a warm hug, but even so, she could hear the laughter just below the surface. “I don’t believe I’d go back to a restaurant where the waitress yelled at me every time. Maybe you should find another restaurant and look for some friends who have interests other than football.”
“Mom, there aren’t any!” Jess knew she sounded like a fourteen-year-old, but sometimes, especially when you were talking to your mom, you just needed to be able to sound like a fourteen-year-old. “Seriously. There is one diner in the whole town, and the waitress yells. And everyone, and I mean everyone, is crazy about high school football. They think I’m the weird one.”
“I am sorry you’re having a hard time of it, honey, but give it time. It always takes a while to adjust to a new place.”
“This is all your fault, you know.” Jess wasn’t ready to listen to common sense. Not yet.
“My fault? How?”
“It’s all those stories you told me about your grandpa being the only doctor in that little town. About how everyone in town knew him and called him Doc. About how you’d go with him and wait in the car when he made house calls after dinner, and how you’d stop and get ice cream on the way home.”
“My goodness, honey, that was a long, long time ago. Things have changed. Surely you noticed that’s not the way your dad and I manage our practices.”
“Well, we lived in the city. That’s why I wanted to live in a small town.”
Jess could hear her mother’s sigh come over the phone.
“Well, darling, I’m sorry things aren’t like you thought they would be, but as I see it, you have a couple choices. You can admit you made a mistake and cut your losses before you waste any more time. I ran into Moira Conner at the hospital the other day, and she was asking about you. If you want to come home, she’d be the one to talk to.”
“But I don’t want to come home.”
“Well then, it seems like the other thing you can do is decide you’re going to succeed in Last Chance. If that means making friends with the waitress, do it. And if you need to go to football games to fit in, do that too. Buy a book and read up if you need to.”
Jess didn’t say anything. She wanted Poor Baby Mom, not Get a Grip Mom.
“Oh, Jessica.” Her mother’s voice softened again. “I have so much faith in you. You are an amazing woman and an amazing doctor. You can do anything you want, anywhere you want. That’s just who you are. But you are the one who has to decide to do it. I can’t do it for you. No one can. Okay?”
“Okay.” Jess didn’t feel great, but she did feel better.
“Listen, honey, I’m going to have to run. We have tickets for the symphony tonight and your dad’s standing at the front door looking at me.”
“Oh, sorry to keep you, Mom. Give Dad my love.”
“I will. And all our love to you too, sweetie.”
Jess punched End on her phone and leaned back against the sofa. Talking to her mom made her realize that she really did want to make a go of it here in Last Chance, and if that meant making friends with Juanita, she’d just have to figure out how. But reading up on football and all that rah-rah stuff? That just might be more than she could bring herself to do.
8
The banks of lights had faded to darkness and the parking lot had emptied before Andy finally got in his truck to head home. He had experienced losses on the field before, both at the University of Arizona and when he played for Denver, but never here before tonight. Not once. Funny. You’d think with all the talk of the Glory Days since he’d been back, he would have at least considered that at the end of every one of those eighty-four games, some team had straggled off the field in exhausted silence while the fans and players of the mighty Pumas of Last Chance celebrated their invincibility. Well, tonight it was San Ramon who celebrated.
Main Street was silent and empty when he drove back through town. It usually was this time of night, but back in the day, when win piled upon win, no one wanted to go home, and pickups piled with his friends slowly drove Main Street from one end to the other before turning and driving back the other way or heading up to San Ramon to find someplace to eat that actually stayed open past sundown. Man, that seemed like a long time ago, and when did he start feeling so old?
The phone in his pocket vibrated, but Andy ignored it. In the first place, his pickup hadn’t been equipped to handle hands-free calling, and he’d never bothered to have it installed, but more than that, he could not think of one person he wanted to talk to right now. As he passed by Jess’s house, with its still lit windows, he glanced over out of recently acquired habit and shook his head. Nope, not even her.
By the time he turned off onto the dirt road that led to his house and his headlights picked up the long, low adobe sitting under an ancient cottonwood tree, his phone had signaled several more calls.
Too bad. They’re just going to have to wait till morning.
When he turned off his ignition and the house sank back in darkness, he sat in the cab a moment listening to the night wind toss the branches of the old tree before opening the door and heading for the front door.
Okay, shake it off. You’ve
got a team meeting tomorrow at 10:00 and another game to get ready for next Friday. You need to let this one go.
He fixed himself a couple peanut butter sandwiches and poured a large glass of milk before he settled on the sofa, and by the time he’d finished one and downed the glass of milk, he was actually starting to feel a little better. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. It was too late to call anyone back even if he wanted to, which he didn’t, but it wouldn’t hurt to see who called. One message from Russ Sheppard, two from his mom, and three from people he didn’t know. If he were anywhere else, he might have wondered how the strangers got his number so fast, but this was Last Chance. If anyone had his private number, everyone had his private number. He sighed as he hit Russ’s message. Might as well get this over with and see what the mood was.
“Andy, this is Russ Sheppard. I imagine you and the boys are feeling kind of low right now, but I want you to know we’re real proud of the effort you made tonight. San Ramon has always been a tough competitor, and this was just one game. We’re still looking for big things from you all, so put this one behind you and move on to the next. We’re with you all the way. If you need anything at all, just let us know. That’s what we’re here for. Get some rest now, and we’ll talk to you soon.”
Could be worse. Andy took a deep breath and blew it out. Now Mom. If he knew for sure she just wanted to ask about the game, he’d let it wait, but there was always the possibility that something was wrong. He played the first message.
“Hi, honey, it’s Mom. This is the big night, and Aunt Barb and I couldn’t be more excited. We’ll be praying for you all evening, so give us a call the minute the game is over, okay? Hang on a second . . . Aunt Barb says, ‘Go Pumas!’ Love you!”
Andy leaned back against the sofa. He’d call in the morning. It was an hour later in Oklahoma, anyway. From the time stamp on Mom’s second call, he guessed it was probably one of those that came in while he was on his way home from the game. Again the desire to put the game behind him, at least till morning, fought with the worry that somewhere between the first and second message, some disaster had befallen. And again, that responsibility he felt for his mom won. He hit Play Message.
Last Chance Hero Page 8
