Phoebe felt as if she'd stumbled into the center of the American dream, a place where poverty and ethnic strife had been held at bay. She knew the city had its troubles, but for someone who had spent the last seven years in Manhattan, those troubles seemed small. There were full stomachs here and a sense of connection with others rare in a society that had become increasingly disconnected. Was it wrong, she wondered, to wish every community in America clean streets, unarmed citizens, families with 2.4 children, and a flotilla of Chevy Broncos filling its parking lots?.
She decided that Dan must have read her mind when his steps slowed beside her. "I guess this is just about as good as it gets."
"I guess so."
"Sure is different from the place where I grew up."
"Yes, I imagine it is."
Molly had gone ahead of them with Pooh, who was tossing her ears and prancing on her leash to show off for the crowd. Dan slipped on a pair of Ray-Bans and pulled the Bulls' hat lower on his head. "This is about the best I can do for a disguise. Not that it's going to work. Especially with you in that hat."
"What's wrong with my hat?" Phoebe put her hand to the silk rose holding up the floppy brim.
"Not a thing. Matter of fact, I like it. It's just that we were going to have a pretty hard time looking anonymous anyway, and that hat makes it even harder."
She saw his point. "Maybe this outing wasn't such a good idea."
"It's a great idea. Now the press won't know what to think about us. I personally like the idea of thumbing our noses at all of them."
In front of them Molly tugged sharply on Pooh's leash and came to a sudden stop. "I want to go."
"We just got here," Phoebe pointed out.
"I don't care. I told you I didn't want to come."
Phoebe noticed Molly glancing toward a group of teenage girls sitting on the grassy slope just ahead. "Are those girls friends of yours?"
"They're bitches. They're all Pom Poms and they think they're better than everybody else. I hate them."
"All the more reason to hold up your head." Dan slipped off his sunglasses and studied the group for a moment. "Come on, Miz Molly. Let's show 'em what you're made of." He took Pooh's leash and passed it over. "Phoebe, hold on to your little rat. Miz Molly and me have a job to do."
Phoebe was too worried about Molly to take Dan to task for calling Pooh a rat. She watched as he drew her sister toward the girls. It was obvious she didn't want to go any closer, but Dan wouldn't release her. Only when he pulled off his cap did she see what he was up to. Next to Bobby Tom and Jim Biederot, his was the most recognizable face in DuPage County, and he obviously intended to let Molly use him to impress the girls from her school.
But as Phoebe walked up the slope to get closer to the girls, she saw that Mr. Big Shot had overestimated himself. While males might recognize him, these teenage girls were definitely not football fans.
"Your daddy wouldn't happen to be Tim Reynolds, the realtor, would he?" she heard Dan ask a gum-chewing nymphet with long hair and mall bangs.
"Nuh-uh," the girl replied, more interested in the contents of her purse than exchanging pleasantries with the terror of the gridiron.
"Nice try," Phoebe murmured under her breath as she pulled up behind him. And then, more loudly, "Hi, girls. I'm Molly's sister."
The girls looked from Phoebe to Molly. "I thought she was your mother," an overly made-up redhead said.
Dan snickered.
Ignoring him, she searched her mind for a topic of conversation while Molly stared miserably at her feet. "How's school going so far this year?"
"Okay," one of them mumbled. Another slipped the headset to her Walkman over her ears. The girls ignored Molly to scan the crowd for more worthy peers.
Phoebe tried again. "Molly said most of the teachers are nice."
"Yeah."
"I guess." The redhead got to her feet. "Let's go, Kelly. This is boring."
Phoebe glanced at Dan. This had been his idea, and it was a disaster. But instead of looking repentant, he seemed distinctly pleased with himself.
"It sure has been nice to meet you girls. Now y'all have a good time today, y'hear?"
The girls looked at him as if he were a Martian and began to move down the slope toward a group of boys coming along the path.
"You didn't exactly wow them," she pointed out.
He slipped his sunglasses in his T-shirt pocket. "Just you wait, honey lamb. I've been impressing females all my life, and I know what I'm doing."
Molly's face was crimson with embarrassment, and she looked as if she were ready to break into tears. "I told you I didn't want to come! I hate this! And I hate you!" She started to rash away, but before she could leave, Dan shot out his arm and pulled her to his side.
"Not so fast, Miz Molly. We're just getting to the good part."
Phoebe immediately saw the cause of Molly's increasing distress. Approaching the group of girls was a gang of four boys, their baseball hats turned backward, oversized T-shirts hanging nearly to the bottoms of their shorts, tongues flapping on big black sneakers.
"Dan, let her go. You've embarrassed her enough."
"I've got half a mind to leave the two of you to your own pitiful devices, except I'm not that cruel."
The girls were calling out the boys' names, and at the same time trying to look aloof. The boys jabbed each other in the ribs. One of them gave a loud belch that was obviously intended to impress.
And then they saw Dan.
Their mouths dropped, and for several moments they seemed to have lost the power of movement. The girls, chattering and tossing their hair, had surrounded them, but the boys paid no attention. Their eyes were riveted on the Stars' coach.
And Dan's eyes were riveted on Molly. He grinned at her and chucked her chin. "Now smile, Miz Molly, and act like you don't have a care in the world."
Molly saw what was happening. She swallowed hard as the boys all turned her way.
"Do you know any of them?" Dan asked quietly, keeping his eyes on her.
"The one with the long hair has the locker next to mine."
Phoebe remembered Molly's reference to the cute boy who made guitar noises.
"All right, now. You just lift your hand and give him a little wave."
Molly looked panicked. "I can't do that."
"Right now he's a lot more nervous than you are. Do what I say."
Dan had been a leader of men since he'd thrown his first football, and an insecure teenage girl was no match for him. Molly gave a short, jerky wave before her arm dropped back to her side and her cheeks turned crimson.
It was all the encouragement the boys needed. Led by Molly's locker neighbor, they rushed forward.
"I stand in awe," Phoebe whispered to Dan.
"It's about time I got some respect."
Their leader's face was red with embarrassment as he came to a stop near Molly. He was tall, all knobby knees and bony elbows, well-scrubbed, well-fed, his long hair clean and shiny. The boys shuffled their feet as if they were stomping out ants. Dan still had his arm draped over Molly's shoulders, but he deliberately turned his head toward Phoebe, making it difficult for the boys to address him.
"Beautiful day, isn't it?" he said.
"Lovely," she replied, understanding immediately what he was doing. "I hope it doesn't rain."
"Weatherman said it was going to be nice all week."
"You don't say." She watched out of the corner of her eye as the long-haired boy's Adam's apple bobbed in his neck. The boys seemed to realize they could only get to Dan through Molly. Their eyes darted back and forth between him and her.
"I've seen you at school, haven't I?" their leader muttered.
"Uh-huh," Molly replied.
"Yeah, I guess I have the next locker."
"Yeah, I guess."