At that moment, my imagination jumped into overdrive. I leaped up and ran for the stairs with images of Coby’s lifeless body by the back door. Someone had forgotten to close the baby gate. When he wasn’t there, I decided that we wouldn’t point any fingers at whoever had failed to secure Coby’s safety and ran to my bedroom.
I was both irritated and relieved to find him sound asleep in the middle of the floor. The irritation was because he’d gotten into my closet and had pulled out everything within his reach. I wasn’t happy when I found my oxblood-red tennis shoes had had their laces gnawed on. The shoestrings would have to be replaced.
I picked him up, put him in the center of my bed, and began to clean the mess up. The amount of mischief he’d been able to get into in such a short time was actually impressive.
I heard the back door open, and my hound bounded up the stairs.
“David?” Pam called.
“In the bedroom.”
My hound was happy to find me sitting on the floor, folding clothes. He wiggled into my lap so he could receive the loving he’d missed when I got home. Pam came into the bedroom and smiled as she watched Duke try to lick my face off.
“Is he always this happy to see you?”
“Not always, but I was gone this weekend,” I explained.
She checked on our son and then sat on the edge of the bed.
“How come Tim asked me out? Did you have anything to do with that?”
“After Tami dumped him, he asked me if it was okay for him to ask you. I told him if he hurt you, he was a dead man. I figured you could make up your own mind as to who you date,” I said.
“He made it sound like you were behind it.”
“Nope. He did that on his own.”
Duke had finally settled down and lay down next to me.
“That’s what I figured,” Pam said and then gave me ‘the look.’
Yep. Worst father ever! I hoped that it was true that kids under the age of three didn’t remember what they saw when they got older. We were just wrestling, honest.
◊◊◊
Chapter 30 – An Embarrassment of Riches Wednesday March 8
I didn’t have a game Wednesday; we’d played yesterday and won 4–0 with no drama, for a change.
After practice, I’d spent time with Phil and Trent as part of my agreement to act as their ‘big brother,’ for lack of a better description. I was glad to see the other seniors following my lead and working with their ‘mini-me’ clones. My two guys wanted to play quarterback next year, and part of our objective was to build a legacy of success. That meant passing down our knowledge to the younger boys.
I did have my own selfish motive, though. I knew that come the end of the year, we would play a lot of games if we went deep in the state baseball playoffs. Most high school teams suffered from not having enough pitching, which proved to be their downfall. I’d extracted a promise that in exchange for my mentoring, they would come to baseball practice to work on their pitching skills. I’d made the deal in the hope that they might make a difference for us late in the year.
When I finally got home yesterday, I’d talked to my mom and dad about what my grandma had said. My celebrity was costing the city money they didn’t have, and I felt responsible. The guy in me wanted to fix it.
Dad had organized a meeting for tonight. The attendees included my grandmother (the de facto mayor), Detective Kitchens (the police representative), Vice Principal Palm, and Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan, head of the Booster Club. We met at city hall in one of their conference rooms. I’d asked my dad to come, but he assured me I could handle it. At first, I was taken aback but decided to take it as a compliment.
Grandma Dawson opened the meeting.
“I had the city treasurer run a report on our financials, and it isn’t good. As I’m sure you remember, our former mayor embezzled money set aside for the retirement fund. He also siphoned off money earmarked for rainy days. If it hadn’t been for a surprise audit, he might have gotten away with it.
“With the need for increased security at the school, we’re in danger of either having to lay people off or stop providing nonessential services,” Grandma Dawson shared.
“I hadn’t realized money was that tight,” Mr. Sullivan said.
“We are looking at cost-cutting measures. But I’m told we need an infusion of cash, and I’m not interested in raising property taxes just because the past mayor was a crook,” Grandma Dawson said.
“Do you have plans for how to come up with the money needed?” Mr. Sullivan asked.
“David,” Grandma Dawson said to turn the meeting over to me.
“I have a couple of ideas. The first is that when I won the Oscar, they gave me a swag bag valued at over a hundred thousand dollars.
“Since the additional security is needed because of me, I am willing to donate some of the high-end items. We could use them for some sort of fundraiser to help make up the shortfall,” I said.
