He was having none of it, so I pulled up his shirt and blew a raspberry on his tummy. His eyes got big and blinked at me.
“What’s up, Buddy?” I asked him.
Mom threw her hands up in the air and stormed out when he laid his head against my chest and settled down. Coby was hungry, so Peggy warmed up a bottle to feed him. I laughed when I looked back down at Little David and saw the redhead was out for the count.
“Shall we trade?” I asked.
Peggy looked relieved, and we did a little dance until we figured out how to trade kids without dropping one of them. She took Little David upstairs to his crib.
Dad came out of the office and sat down at the kitchen table while I fed my son.
“I looked at the date on your list, and it was from the beginning of last fall. Why don’t we look at who you’re interested in again?” Dad suggested.
“In the Big Ten, my top three are Ohio State, Michigan, and Michigan State. ACC would be Clemson and Florida State, and SEC is Alabama, Kentucky, and Florida. Big 12, I would think Baylor, Oklahoma, and Texas. Pac 12 has to be USC and Stanford. If all else fails, I could go to State,” I said.
“What about Northwestern, Wisconsin, Iowa, and Nebraska in the Big Ten?”
I think he wanted me to stay close to home. Something was apparent to me, though: the Big Ten West could be one of the easier routes to a National Championship. The East division had Ohio State, Michigan, Michigan State, and Penn State. It made sense they would beat each other up. On the other hand, the West didn’t have any schools that really stood out.
The reason I said ‘routes to the National Championship’ was because I would almost guarantee you that the SEC and Big Ten would lock up two slots. The other two slots would be split between the ACC, Big 12, and Pac 12. There was an outside shot that either an Independent or someone outside the Power 5 might sneak in, of course.
“Everyone but Iowa could be a backup,” I said, remembering how they’d canceled my visit when I had my problems with Cal. “And not Notre Dame,” I added, remembering their reaction.
“Not every football school has a strong baseball program. Florida and Clemson are strong in both. Alabama and Ohio State aren’t bad,” Dad suggested.
“So why the sudden interest in letting someone have an in-home visit?” I asked.
“Frankly, your mom and I are interested in seeing what they have to say. I figured Ohio State would be a good first step because I knew you were also thinking about them for football.”
“Fair enough.”
“One more thing. Ms. Dixon talked to Cal about his breach of our agreement.”
“How’d that go?” I asked.
“They worked out a deal where the consent decree would be modified to allow Cal supervised visitation only with prior written permission from your mom or me,” Dad explained.
“That makes me feel better.”
“You’re not going to like the final part of the deal,” Dad said with a smirk.
This didn’t sound good.
“You have to call Ms. Dixon and let her yell at you.”
I blanched at that.
“Why?” I asked.
“This is how she explained it to me. Cal’s visit to Pam and Coby, if we’d let it pass, would have been taken as our effectively waiving the ‘no-contact’ provisions of the injunction. A waiver is ‘the intentional relinquishment of a known right,’ and can be done by an action or inaction; in this case, inaction. Ms. Dixon was upset because she assumes Cal knew this and used the birth of Coby to try to break that provision of our agreement,” Dad explained.
“No one ever said Cal wasn’t smart. It’s too bad that we have to assume he’s up to no good.”
“Let’s put it this way: Ms. Dixon said he wasn’t surprised by her call. One more thing: Ms. Dixon said that neither Pam nor you can consent to allow Cal to visit because you’re both minors. If he calls either of you for a visit, have him call me,” Dad said.
“Well, I’m glad Ms. Dixon took care of this. I guess I’ll call her and take my verbal beating.”
Dad reached over and messed up my hair.
“You’re a good kid. She just wants to remind you that you have to be careful and protect yourself, especially from someone like Cal. That’s why you have Ms. Dixon and others like Frank Ingram. I think she wants you to put her number on speed dial.”
“Funny you should say that, she’s number nine,” I admitted.
“You better tell me your mom is number one, or there’ll be hell to pay,” Dad teased.
My eyes got big.
“I need to change that.”
He actually took a swipe at me! When Dad and I were done, I called Pam to get her up to speed. I then bit the bullet and called Ms. Dixon. I’m happy she’s on my side.
◊◊◊ Monday April 18
Stacy Clute was done penciling in the bulldog logo on my picnic table, and I’d brought my lunch today so I could do my painting during lunchtime. When I walked into the school’s shop area, where they were storing the tables, I found Halle and Stacy already painting it.
“Hey,” I complained.
“You know we’re better painters,” Halle said and stuck out her tongue.
“I thought …” Stacy started, looking confused.
