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doing without lusting after her parents’ houseguest. Once Eagles Fest was over, she’d wave good-bye and he’d go back to being nothing but amemory.

03
    C hase walked down the stairs the following morning to find the house empty and a note from Mrs. McDonnell propped next to the coffeemaker. Smart woman. He wouldn’t miss it there, for sure.
    We’re off to work this morning, but we’ll probably be home by early afternoon. Make yourself at home, and there are fresh blueberry muffins in the basket with the blue towel over it. Helen.
    Three cups of coffee, two muffins and a few minutes washing dishes later, Chase stood in the middle of the living room and wondered what he was supposed to do all day. Kelly had made it pretty clear nothing was needed from himuntil tomorrow morning, but he wasn’t used to sitting around watching television while the sun was shining.
    He would have given Coach a hand if he’d gotten up early enough. Unlike many high school coaches, Coach wasn’t a school staffer who happened to know enough about a sport to coach it. He’d owned his own plumbing business for as long as Chase could remember, and Mrs. McDonnell worked in his office. When the community had begun making noise about starting a football team, they’d asked Walt McDonnell to coach because he’d played in college back in the day, and nobody else had that kind of practical experience.
    Chase was a builder, not a plumber, but he could lug tools and hand over wrenches as well as any guy. He’d missed the boat, though, so he was going to have to amuse himself until the afternoon, at least.
    He decided to cruise around and reacquaint himself with the town, keeping an eye out for unexpected stop signs. Besides the For Sale signs and the depressing bank auction signs, Chase saw a lot of empty storefronts along Main Street, and it seemed like every building in town needed a fresh coat of paint.
    He’d turned off Main Street, planning to loop around to the public parking area and go for a walk, when he hit the brakes so hard the tires chirped, and stared at the sign. Decker’s Wreckers. It couldn’t be. But who else would slap that name on a business?
    He turned in to the lot, trying to remember what name used to be on the old brick garage, but it eluded him. Parking between two tow trucks that weren’t in much better shape than the garage, he got out and went into the office. Nobodycame to greet him, so he poked his head into the garage area. Two legs like tree trunks stuck out from under a pickup.
    â€œHey,” Chase said.
    The creeper wheels squealed in protest as the rest of the man emerged, and Chase grinned. Paul “Deck” Decker had been a big guy in high school, but years, a lot of good eating and probably more than his fair share of beer had added quite a bit of girth. If he wanted to slide under a car, the car would have to be on a lift.
    â€œHey, Deck.”
    Deck pushed himself to his feet and wiped his hand on his pants before extending it. “Sanders. No shit. Heard you were coming back.”
    â€œRumor is we’re going to wipe up the field with some young rookies. Couldn’t let you have all the fun.”
    â€œWhen Kelly asked me to play, I almost laughed her out of my office. I haven’t played in years.”
    â€œNone of us have. At least you just have to stand there and hit people. I’m the goddamn running back. Last time I ran anywhere, my truck popped out of gear and started rolling. Took off after it and got maybe seven or eight yards before I said ‘fuck it’ and let it hit a tree.”
    Deck shook his head. “When I laughed at her, Kelly reminded me Coach didn’t laugh when he sat down with Ma and helped her fill out all of those government forms so my little brothers and sisters could get free hot lunches at school.”
    â€œShe plays hardball, that’s for damn sure.”
    â€œKnows which