The Super Mum

“Anthony’s Big Brother,” Rebecca mused. “Hmm. Are you sure that’s all he’s going to be?”

“He’s younger than I am,” Angela said lamely.

“How much younger?”

“Three years.”

“That’s nothing.”

“Maybe.”

“Is he single?”

“Oh, yes.”

“What’s he do?”

“He owns a sporting goods store in the same plaza as Felice’s Nieces.”

“This is David Moore we’re talking about?” Rebecca asked, sounding concerned.

“Do you know him?”

Rebecca’s blue eyes clouded. “No, I don’t. But I’ve heard things.”

Trepidation danced up Angela’s spine. “What kind of things?”

“He’s a football coach.”

Angela nodded. “I know that.”

After hesitating a few moments, Rebecca went on, “Now, I wasn’t there, understand. The incident happened before I moved here. But he was involved in some kind of brawl on the football field and ended up with community service because of it.”

Shocked, Angela leaned against the island. “You mean an actual physical fight?”

Rebecca nodded. “Yep, an actual fight between him and another coach.”

“I don’t understand. How could he keep his coaching position? Why would the community center put him on a list to be a mentor?”

“I don’t know the ins and outs of it. How did Anthony relate to him?”

“By the time David left tonight, they were talking football. I think he’s coming around. But now I don’t know if I want David Moore around him.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Rosewood was one of those communities where gossip spread like an epidemic. Their neighborhood was the perfect example. For a long while, Megan had been the butt of it. Everybody had thought her sister was sleeping with Carly’s husband before Carly and Greg had broken up, which hadn’t been true at all. Still, Rebecca didn’t gossip idly, and a brawl on a football field would have had plenty of witnesses.

“I’m going to have to find out what this is all about,” Angela decided soberly. She’d call David tomorrow and ask him to meet her for coffee. They’d get this straightened out one way or another.

Pushing her own concerns aside for the moment, she said to Rebecca, “Now tell me what you want Joe to wear for the wedding.”

When Angela entered Rosewood’s trendy coffee shop, Latte & Lunch, residents on their way to work or up early for whatever reason were drinking lattes, macchiatos and espressos. Angela hadn’t had any caffeine yet so she couldn’t blame her increased heart rate on that. She’d told herself this meeting with David could be a confrontation, and she was simply nervous.

Underneath that, there was something else and she couldn’t deny it. She’d gone through the motions with him on Sunday evening as they’d decorated the tree and then had supper, all the while still tingling from their kiss at the Christmas tree farm.

Now the tingles were anticipatory ones and she simply didn’t know how to shut them off.

He was waiting for her at a table for two in the corner. When he stood, his expression was serious. “I would have ordered for you, but I didn’t know what you’d like.”

She could see he was already nursing a cup of what looked like black coffee.

“I’ll get something and be right back.” Postponing the inevitable, she thought, not really wanting a cup of latte. But she needed something to do with her hands…something to focus on other than him.

Back at the table, the busyness of the place was almost a comfort because no one was paying attention to anyone else.

“Is this about that kiss?” he asked.

That kiss. She hadn’t given him any indication on the phone of why she wanted to meet. “No. I found something out and I thought we should talk about it.”

“You found something out?”

She could feel her cheeks heating up. “I heard gossip—about you.”

“I see. Want to fill me in?” His hazel eyes were steady on hers, not evading her, and she hoped Rebecca was all wrong about what she’d heard.

“One of my neighbors told me something that was disturbing to me. She said you were in a brawl on the football field while you were coaching.”

Time ticked by as conversations and people swirled around them. “I see. The references I gave you didn’t reassure you?”

“They reassured me when I didn’t know about the fighting. But if you’ve got a temper, if you have anger that erupts like that, how can I trust you with Anthony?”

“Have you seen any sign of anger?” he asked. His voice was stiff and defensive.

“No, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there. I’ve only been around you for two days. And men who have anger issues can sometimes keep them well hidden.”

Looking down at his coffee, he turned it around in his hands. Then he met her gaze, his voice crisp. “What happened is a matter of public record. I’ll admit, I was angry after my accident. My life had been torn apart and taken a turn I never expected. But I funneled that anger into recovery, into working in a lumber yard until I had enough money to buy my own store. While I did that, I coached.”

“That one particular night, I was coaching a game and one of my players got clipped. The two boys started a fight. The other team’s coach got involved, and so did I, shouting back and forth. In the midst of the ruckus, Coach Witherspoon turned on my player, who was mixing it up with his. I told him to move away, and he swung at me. I defended myself by swinging back. It wasn’t the brightest thing I’ve ever done, but I felt I was defending my player.”

Of course, this situation wasn’t cut and dried. Angela sighed, not knowing what to think. Before her divorce she’d thought she was a good judge of character. David’s demeanor toward the kids had told her he was kind and wouldn’t fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. But she’d been wrong in so many ways about Jerome, and she could be wrong about this man, too.

David took her silence as a request for further information. “The chief of police was in the bleachers, and before either of us could throw another punch, he split up the fight. Since practically the whole community had seen what happened, Chief Raymond didn’t feel he could let it drop. So he suggested we both do fifty hours of community service, mentoring needy kids. That’s how I got into the program.”

“That coach shouldn’t have been mentoring kids if he couldn’t keep his temper in check. What was the chief thinking?” Angela asked, outraged.

“He was thinking that sports can sometimes bring out the worst, as well as the best. He was thinking we’d both gotten caught up in the moment, as well as the players. Witherspoon isn’t a bad guy. I got to know him afterwards. He should never have swung in the first place. And I should never have swung back, no question about it.”

She liked the fact David was taking responsibility for what had happened.