Evvie Drake Starts Over(19)

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Evvie was watching TV on the couch when she heard his key in the door. Dean came to the living room doorway and stood there for a minute. Finally, he raised his phone in one hand. “Saw it,” he said.

She put her hands over her face. “I’m so sorry,” she said into her fingers. “I’m so sorry.”

He came over and sat next to her on the couch. “What? You’re sorry for what?”

Evvie took her hands away and looked at him. “Oh, for making it sound like we were sleeping together. I’m sure that’s not exactly what your public image needs right now.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I think it reflects pretty well on me. I don’t know about you. Besides, my favorite sports site recently voted me First Athlete We’d Throw into an Active Volcano, so I don’t think my public image can really be hurt.”

“I also might have threatened the reporter, which I’m sure isn’t exactly what I’m supposed to do. I’m guessing your people will not like that.”

He narrowed his eyes a little. “What people are those?”

“Don’t you have…I don’t know. People? Lawyers or agents or, like, PR people?” She waved a hand by her ear. “People with little headsets who run around barking about whether the limo is going to be on time and whether everyone is in position?”

“That sounds…like a ma?tre d’. Or a wedding planner,” he said. “I don’t have a wedding planner.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

   “I used to have a lot of people.” He nodded. “But now I have a lot fewer people, and I don’t talk to them as much. And when I do, I don’t pay attention to anything they say. What I was going to tell you when I sat down was that I’m sorry a reporter came to your door and started badgering you about your life and your husband, since I doubt that’s a lot of fun for you.”

“It’s not fun,” she agreed. “I still shouldn’t have threatened her.”

“What did you say?” he asked with a grin.

She put her hands back over her face. “I said if she didn’t get off the porch, I was going to push her off.”

Dean offered a broad display of shock. “You did threaten her!”

“Well, I told her that I was going to kick her down the stairs with her notebook and her…shit shovel.”

At this, he bark-laughed. “Did you really?” She nodded miserably, and he pulled her hands down from her face. “Stop pretending that’s not awesome. That is awesome. You know it is. That’s a fucking enforcer is what that is. I’m going to call you Bruiser.”

She made a drawn-out, miserable moaning sound.

“Look, fifteen months ago, they burned me in effigy at a bar I co-owned. They shot out the windows of my next-door neighbor’s apartment with a BB gun because either they can’t count windows or they can’t tell the difference between 816 and 818.”

“Plus, active volcano,” Evvie said quietly.

“Plus active volcano, yes,” he said. “So trust me, the people I have left are not going to get all upset because you yelled at a reporter. And I appreciate what you did.”

She smiled, just a little bit, just until her shoulders relaxed. He raised his hand and said, “Up top.” She didn’t respond. “Come on, Eveleth. Up top.” She reached up and slapped his hand with her own. As he walked back toward the apartment, she heard him say, “Shit shovel. I’m stealing that. That’s mine now.”





DEAN WAS ANSWERING AN EMAIL from one of his brothers the next morning when he heard Evvie’s distinctive double-knock. When he opened the apartment door, she was standing with a gray-haired guy in a Calcasset High School warm-up jacket. “Hey,” Evvie said. “Dean, you have a visitor. This is Ted Finch. He coaches football over at the high school. And he won’t tell you this, but his son Jake is also our star…running back, right?”

“Running back,” Finch said. “Yes.”

“Hey, Coach.” They shook hands a little awkwardly.

“I have to tell you,” Coach Finch said, “I watched you pitch on television quite a lot. It’s a pleasure.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Evvie nodded at them. “Maybe you guys can come in here and talk at the table? I have to go upstairs and get some work done. Good to see you, Ted.”

“You, too, Eveleth,” he said.

Dean watched Evvie disappear up the stairs, patting him on the elbow as she passed. “So,” he said to the coach.

“So. How’s the town treating you so far?”

   “Great, great. Everyone’s been great. Good to be out of the city, you know.”

“I can imagine.” Finch smiled at him. “I was sorry to hear how things turned out in New York.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, thank you.” He gave the silence a few seconds to settle. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Uh, well,” Finch said, “I came to ask you a favor. I’ve got a football team that’s most of the way through a pretty strong season. I’ve got young men who are working very hard, they’re a little beat up by now, and I’m always tryin’ to think of ways to get them motivated. Keep them from gettin’ lazy. Sometimes I bring in different men to talk to them, give some advice about football. Or generally. Just general advice.”