There Comes A Season

“Mister! Are you alive!”

Bryan saw another boy running off as if his life depended on it, and realized that they were talking to him. “Me?”

Relief spread like melted honey across the freckled face as the boy watched Bryan’s every move.

“I’ll be fine. My leg cramped.”

“I thought you were dying or something.” The fear disappeared from the young boy’s face.

“I’m okay.”

“Joey, come back! He’s not dying!”

Bryan gritted his teeth and straightened his leg, then sat upright. “You have quite a team here. I’m Bryan Beaumont,” he extended one hand while the other held a tight grip on his leg. “Coach of the McKinley Mustangs.” He’d looked forward to coaching the eight and nine-year-old boys’ football team for months. Ever since his wife had left him, to be exact. “Any of you signed up?”

A few of them nodded, but not the one with real potential.

Beads of sweat dripped down Bryan’s face. He swiped the perspiration with the back of his hand, then rested it on his knee. He looked at the freckle-faced boy.

“Aren’t you going to play?”

“I dunno.” The kid shrugged.

“Do you like the game?”

“Sure,” he said, as if it were the stupidest question he’d ever heard.

“Would you like me to talk to your parents?”

“I only have a mom. My dad died of a heart attack.”

Bryan froze. So that what why the kid had overreacted to his collapse. “I’m sorry about that. How old are you?”

“Eight.”

“You live near here?”

“I won’t take you there.” The kid backed away.

“That’s good. It’s okay. I don’t mean to frighten you. I was wondering if your mom might be able to come over to talk to me.”

“She’s real busy.”

“No problem. You ask her about playing.” He turned to all the boys and added, “I’d like to have all of you on the team. We practice at McKinley Elementary.”

“That’s the school just around the corner,” another kid exclaimed.

“Sure is. Anyone have a pen? I want to give you my phone number in case your mom has any questions.”

One of the boys ran to his backpack and pulled out a stubby pencil and a scrap of paper. Bryan scribbled his first name and phone number for the youngster, then struggled to his feet after the boys were gone.

Upon returning to Kevin’s, he found Jacob settled in his new crib, sound asleep.

Bryan filled the ice bag, grabbed a bottle of spring water, and hobbled into the den, hoping to forget his troubles.

“You cramped up again, huh? When are you going to realize Andrea isn’t worth this torture?”

“Even dead, she’s still a pain in the…Never mind. One of these days…years…I’m going to forget.”

“One day you’re going to realize she did you a favor.”

“Real favor. Poor kid. I don’t know anything about being a father. It’s not like Andrea gave me any clue she’d changed her mind about kids.”

Kevin looked at him, then back to the blueprints on the drafting table in front of him. “Other than grueling, how was your run?”

Bryan forgot the injury as the anticipation of coaching returned. Before he realized what he was doing, he was reenacting the play he’d seen just before collapsing.

“The kid is a natural athlete, Kev. I wish I’d found out his name, but I didn’t want to scare him any more than I already had.”

“You don’t actually think his mom will call, do you? You know what women think of football.”

Again, the simple reminder of his wife was enough to set Bryan’s enthusiasm back ten yards. “You’re right, she probably doesn’t even realize the talent the boy has.”

“That’s a safe bet.”

Bryan leaned his head back on the chair, resting his bottled water on one knee. He recalled his own mother’s hesitation to let him play, and his dad’s convincing argument. Remembering his father’s death, Bryan realized for the first time that his own son was destined to an equal if not worse fate. He’d never even know the rare beauty of a mother’s protective love. It was obvious that Andrea didn’t care enough to think of anyone but herself.

Interrupting his thoughts, Kevin grumbled. “Don’t even think it, Bryan. There are too many kids with problems for you to solve.”

“The boy needs a little encouragement, a big brother, so to speak. He’s eight years old!”

“Okay, so he needs someone. If I remember correctly…”

“You’re the one who got me into coaching at all. It wasn’t my idea.” Bryan pointed to his friend, knowing by heart the lecture that was coming.

Before Kevin had a chance to speak, he added, “Besides, this isn’t at all the same as with Andrea.”

“You’ll never change.”

Bryan walked to the window, setting his glass on the sill. “I thought I could make it work. She needed someone to love her. It was good for a while.”

“What wasn’t good then? You were the new executive at Computex, women at your door all hours of the day and night.”

Bryan interrupted. “Those women were on your doorstep, not mine, Buddy.”

“Like I said, they were good times.” Kevin laughed, but Bryan continued to stare out the window. “Andrea had you under her spell. She knew what she wanted, and you were her ticket.”

“How can I go on without her?”

“She left you almost a year ago, Bryan! Forget her.” Kevin took a long drink, finishing his tea in one swallow.

“If she would have seen the counselor with me, we could have worked everything out…And a baby!” Bryan mumbled an expletive. “She didn’t even tell me about my own son.”

“You’re a saint, man. She leaves you without so much as a word, doesn’t tell you or her lawyer she’s carrying your kid, and you think you could have saved a marriage she never cared about.”

Bryan closed his eyes and shook his head. “You don’t understand, Kev. There has to be more to it…”

“What I understand is, you’re better off without her. Snap out of it! Andrea didn’t deserve you. What you need is a…”

“The last thing I need is a woman complicating my life.”

Hamburger sizzled in the cast-iron skillet. Laura massaged her temple, trying to ward off the tension headache looming beneath the surface.

The front door slammed just before T.J. ran into the kitchen. “Mom. Can I play football this year? The McKinley coach came by the park and he wants me to play.”

Before the words were out of her mouth, her son rushed through an explanation of how he’d come to talk to the stranger. After having seen his own father at the hands of the paramedics, she didn’t have the heart to lecture her son about trying to help a stranger who’d appeared to need medical help.

“I don’t know how we could fit that in this year, honey.”

“But Dad said when I turned eight I could play.”

“T.J.” Her mouth went dry. How could she explain?

“Please, Mom.”

“Wasn’t the sign-up last week?”

The smile disappeared. It didn’t take a psychologist to see that she’d just broken her son’s heart. Didn’t every boy dream of being an all-star quarterback at one time?

“Here’s the coach’s phone number. Can’t you at least call him?” Then as if he knew exactly how to turn the knife, he added, “Dad wouldn’t have forgotten to sign me up.”

She took the tattered paper and stuffed it into her pocket. That was when Todd was going to be the coach. Things changed. “Go wash up. Supper’s ready.”

If you’d take this baby, you wouldn’t have to worry about the money. The fact remained, though, that Bryan Beaumont knew nothing about raising a child, which meant she’d not only be caring for his son, but also trying to teach another workaholic father how to be a dad. To make matters worse, this father wasn’t her husband. This one was single, incredibly handsome and obviously had the means to substitute his love and attention with any number of material toys.

Both hands full, Laura kicked the refrigerator door closed. She set the gallon of milk and the skillet of hamburger gravy on the table, then sat down and waited for the children to settle before offering thanks. Their routine had. changed so little, it was as if her husband were at a board meeting and would return before the evening was over.

After supper, she finished the dishes and helped the kids get ready for bed, still agonizing over both problems. She thought of calling Bryan’s secretary for more information, as Vicky had been a client once, but realized how unprofessional that would appear.

Then she wondered if she should call the football coach.

Out of the question.

What could she say? Thanks for your encouragement, but I just can’t afford it? Not a chance. The last thing she wanted was some do-gooder giving them charity. It wasn’t that there really was no money to spare, but she was trying to keep within a budget, and after buying new tires and paying the plumbing bill, it would cut into the emergency fund. Not a good way to start the month.

She could always go into detail about how challenging it was to transport nine kids to practices. Or spew out her personal sob story and sound like a whiny, helpless woman. Forget it. They’d manage. There would always be next year, after life had settled into a dull and boring routine again.

Football taken care of, she set her mind to the problem of filling her opening, or more to the point, how to not fill the opening. At least, not with the adorable son of a potently handsome widower who twisted her words to suit his needs.

Sleep. That would clear her mind.

Wrong.

The quiet only filled her mind with more guilt. The furnace kicked on, squealing at first, then dissipating to a rhythmic drone. Oh, the joys of a fixer-upper. Before winter’s over, the furnace too, will most likely need to be replaced.

She rolled onto her stomach and covered her head with a pillow as overgrown branches of the giant maple rubbed against the side of the house. Another chore Todd had meant to do this summer.

Before long, the mental list of possible repairs had tripled, and her headache was pounding. “Okay, I get the message, God. You’ve always provided for our needs, and now is no exception. But why through a single father with an attitude?”

Chapter Three

The next morning, Bryan parked his white sports car in front of Laura’s house. He saw the freckle-faced kid deposit a sack of trash in a barrel, then grab a basketball and shoot three baskets—all net.

Tucking Jacob into the crook of his arm, Bryan hustled up the driveway. “Hi. I’m Bryan. We met yesterday.”

The boy looked puzzled.

“You were playing football. I’m the coach.”

“That was you?” The boy’s sparkling eyes grew bigger.

Bryan nodded. His smile couldn’t begin to express his joy at finding this kid again. “Are you Laura Bates’s son?”

“Uh-huh. You know my mom?”

She’s a widow, and never said a thing. And I told her she couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like to lose a loved one. Great one, Beaumont. Open mouth, insert foot. “I talked with her last night about watching my son. What did she say about football?”

“She said it’s too late to sign up,” he complained.

“Oh yeah? Let’s go talk to her. We’ll see what we can do.”

Bryan followed T.J. into the kitchen and watched silently as Laura flipped pancakes.

“Chad, you’re going to be late for school. Will you please hurry?” She pivoted, jumping when she saw Bryan standing in the doorway.

“Your son and I met outside. He invited me in. Sorry I startled you.”

T.J., obviously forgetting football at the sight of warm pancakes, walked between Bryan and Laura with a plate piled high. Not that he blamed the kid. They looked delicious.

“Good grief T.J., you’d think I never feed you.” She took several pancakes off his plate and returned them to the platter. “You may have seconds after you’ve eaten those.”

Laura glanced back at Bryan, her face full of strength, shining with a steadfast and serene peace. “I didn’t expect you quite so early, but that’s okay. Help yourself to breakfast if you’d like.”

Her other son sauntered into the spacious kitchen.

“Chad! You’ve been up for an hour, why aren’t you dressed?” She excused herself, then disappeared with her youngest son in tow. A few minutes later, both returned, and the doorbell rang. Laura’s workday was beginning. Preschoolers and toddlers arrived every few minutes and she introduced Bryan to each of the parents.

“How do you stay so calm with this chaos?”

She laughed, seeming very pleased with something. “It grows on you.”

While she was busy feeding the toddlers and helping her children prepare for school, he mentioned registering T.J. in football.

She stole a guilt-ridden glance at her son.

T.J. looked at Laura hopefully. “Can I, Mom? Please.”

“I’ll discuss that with Jacob’s dad. You and I will talk tonight. Right now, it’s time for you kids to walk to school. Have a good day. Remember, I love you.” She kissed each child’s cheek as they left. “And no talking to strangers.”

After her children were out the door, she faced Bryan, arms across her chest. “So you’re the coach he met last night, huh? How’s the leg?”

“Fine. I’m sorry about the stranger thing. He was hesitant, if that matters.” By the look on her face, it didn’t. “He’s got talent.”

“Oh, he’s a natural all right. Just like his dad.” She smiled, but her eyes were looking far beyond anything visible. She shook her head, then looked back at him. It was as if he could look right into the raw sores of her aching heart. “I’m not sure I’m ready for him to play full-contact sports.”

“Has he played soccer?”

Laura nodded.

“There’s more protection playing football than soccer. I’m helping coach the team at McKinley. I’d love to have him play.”

She proceeded to cut another pancake for a towheaded boy without any indication she’d heard Bryan.

“It’s not too late to register,” he told her.

“I know. That’s not it.” Laura washed another toddler’s fingers before getting him out of the high chair, then cleared the dishes from the table while children dug through the toy box.

“Did your husband play?” Bryan persisted.

“Todd was an athlete. Anything with ‘ball’ attached, consumed him. If he wasn’t playing, we watched on T.V.” She looked as if she actually missed that. “T.J.’s so young. There’s plenty of time for sports later.”

“Sometimes kids need an outlet to deal with losing a dad. Especially an oldest son who feels an obligation to take care of his mother. That’s a heavy load for a boy his age.” Bryan tried to block out memories of his father’s death, memories that were especially strong during football season. “You didn’t tell me you were a widow,” he said accusingly.

She replied right away, “You didn’t give me a chance.” Her cool blue eyes eluded his and she sidestepped the subject. “Did you play football?”

Bryan smiled, recalling his own experience with the sport. “Wide receiver for Colorado University.”

“Ah. Serious obsession.”

Even though her smile was genuine, Bryan sensed a turn in their conversation.

“Very.”

“What about coaching? You obsessed there, too?”

He realized Laura was now a mother interviewing the coach. “At this age, teaching the boys the basics and to enjoy the game is more important than winning. Obsession comes on down the road. High school, junior year at the latest.”

Laura chuckled and bit her lower lip almost nervously. “I’ll think about it.”

“I hope you will.”

During his visit that morning, Laura briefly told him that her husband had died of a heart attack, and shared that it was a continuous challenge to raise children alone. Her courage and determination was like a cold deep river flowing through her.

In turn, he told her that Jacob’s mother had died in an automobile accident. That was all she needed to know.

“Why do you coach?” Laura asked over a glass of juice as the kids watched their favorite preschool program.

“What kind of question is that?”

“Forgive me. That didn’t come out right. You obviously enjoy football, but it sounds like you already keep long hours at work, and with expecting a new baby in your house, I can’t help but wonder why you chose now to volunteer your time. Most men have difficulty making time to coach even their own son’s team. This doesn’t fit the image you portrayed yesterday.”

He remained quiet, assessing the fact that she’d examined his image. It pleased him, and it bothered him. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by some woman’s romantic notions.

“Being a weekend quarterback isn’t enough. I miss playing. And I’d made the commitment before I found out about Jacob.”

Bryan consoled himself that it wasn’t a lie, exactly. When he’d agreed to help coach the junior league team, he had no idea he was going to be a father. No one need know that at that time he’d desperately needed something to take his mind off his wife’s walking away from their marriage.

“What’s the most important aspect of football?”

“At this age, or professional?” He grinned, attempting to lighten her shrewd onslaught of questions into his character.

She stared back, obviously unimpressed with his humor.

“Okay, okay. Teamwork. No one is an entity unto himself out on the football field.”

“Are they anywhere?”

He looked again into her undaunted blue eyes, realizing her wisdom. “Touché. So how about if we try this out, Mrs. Bates. You raise my son, and I’ll coach yours. It’s as easy and uncomplicated as that.”

Three weeks later, the football season had started. During that time, Laura had cleared up the majority of Bryan’s questions about his new son. While he admitted feeling he’d never get the knack of caring for a baby, he was comforted by the knowledge that Jacob at least had Laura to meet the majority of his needs.

Bryan was a bit surprised when she accepted his offer to transport T.J. to and from practices in return for watching Jacob after her usual business hours during practice. It had been the first glimmer of her relinquishing any sort of personal responsibility. The death of her husband had obviously been a devastating blow, and she seemed determined to handle life’s punches alone.

In the three weeks that he’d known the family, he’d come to understand what had drawn him to Laura Bates. She showed no signs of weakness. There was a part of him that worried about her. Would she give and give until there was nothing left of her? Or would she someday allow herself to grow whole again?

He admired her. Almost too much. And at the same time, he longed for proof that she was human; that she, like he, had her inadequacies as well. This selfishness was a quick, disturbing thought as he struggled to put the woman out of his mind.

After the second football practice, Bryan walked into the living room and handed the game schedule to Laura. “I hope T.J. remembered to tell you he needs to get a cup.”

“No, he didn’t mention it, but it’ll be no problem. I’ll send him with one tomorrow. He has a water bottle that we take camping.”

“What?” Bryan stopped and looked at her.

“You said a cup didn’t you? He drinks a lot of water.”

Clearing his throat, Bryan rubbed his forehead with his fingers, twisting his mouth in amusement. “I meant a jock cup. You know, an athletic supporter.”

Laura’s cheeks colored. “Oh…Why didn’t you just say he needs a jockstrap?”

“I assumed…never mind. You do realize that a cup is not the same as a regular jock, don’t you?”

Laura watched in embarrassment as he tried not to smile.

“It’s so refreshing to see a grown woman blush.” Bryan smiled in spite of the fact he wasn’t sure he liked the affect she had on him. “Why don’t I take care of this?”

“We can handle it.” Her voice raised an octave. “I hadn’t thought of this part of being a single mother, to be honest. I told you I wasn’t ready for him to be in sports.”

“Let me pick him up after school tomorrow and take him shopping before practice. Taking all the little ones shopping must be a disaster. The store closes at five.”

“If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind,” Laura said, absently stacking some scattered papers on the leather-top table. “I’ll owe you one.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Chapter Four

Laura watched her three children climb into the tree house Todd and the kids had finished building only weeks before his heart attack. She wondered how their lives would be altered by his absence.

Would her sons grow up knowing how to treat their wives and children? How could she begin to answer the boys’ questions about puberty? Her own brother was nearly ten years her senior. She knew nothing of what changes her sons would experience.

Would Carrie learn how to relate to men? She seemed so lost without her daddy. One minute she would be a happy little girl, the next, overflowing with any number of emotions.

Laura understood exactly what Carrie was going through. It had devastated Laura when her grandfather had died. He’d been her best buddy, especially the summer before they found the tumor. Experience had taught her nothing, she realized. She’d felt the same sense of loss, and yet she had no way to help her daughter’s pain go away.

That evening, T.J. bounded into the kitchen while Laura was preparing dinner. He grabbed a carrot and munched noisily. “How can Daddy be happy in heaven without us?”

Laura put down the knife she was using, and her mouth opened, though the words she sought would not come. She leaned on the counter and looked at the younger version of her husband. “Heaven isn’t like Earth. There is no sadness and pain.”

“Do you think Daddy asked God why he had to die?”

“Yes, your dad probably had a whole list of questions for Him.” She wrapped her arms around her son and gave him a kiss. “I think God is telling Daddy the same thing that I remind myself of each day, that He hasn’t given us any more than we can handle. Sometimes it’s not easy to understand God’s plan, but the Bible says we should trust in the Lord with all our hearts.” Could she really expect her son to believe words she herself had questioned over and again in the past few months?

“Oh,” T.J. said, accepting her answer with a childlike trust. Then he ran back to the playroom.

Laura stood, surrounded by the emptiness that her son’s difficult questions prompted. “God, why isn’t it that simple for me? Why can’t I accept your wisdom with that same kind of trust?”

Later, while she was getting ready for bed, a raw and primitive grief overwhelmed her. Her entire body ached from uncontrollable sobs. “What do you expect of me God?” Stepping into the shower, she let the tepid water drip over her face and tired body. Inhaling deep, she leaned her head back. “How can I possibly raise these three children alone, God? They were all Todd and I could handle together.”

The next weekend her best friend, Barb, and her husband Chuck came for dinner with their two kids. Realizing how much she’d missed entertaining, Laura had looked forward to adult conversation all week.

Barb snatched a mushroom from the salad, and Laura scowled.

“Don’t start, Laura. My boss is driving me crazy. I’m almost ready to get back into child care,” Barb proclaimed.

“Right.” Laura laughed, still chopping vegetables for the salad. “If you want more chaos in your days, you are crazy.”

“A doozy, huh? What happened?”

“Ty and Jeffrey’s mom came and needed to talk just as the kids were getting up from their naps. I shouldn’t complain, it’s been months since she’s stopped long enough to visit. I think she was afraid to bother me after Todd died.” Laura checked the lasagna and filled the glasses on the table. Carrie escorted Barb’s daughter, Kate into the room.

“Mom, you said we could have pop tonight,” Carrie complained with an air of authority.