At the breakfast booth, Jad and Henry played the game over, time and time again. Together they marveled at King Miller’s frantic, perfect save in the last second of the game. Martha listened to them, smiling to herself.
“I don’t know how to thank you, Henry,” Jad said, his voice humble. “Maybe now I can go ahead and be a coach. I can even learn how to sound sincere when I tell them they’re good.” His voice strengthened, “But I’m going to stamp down hard when I see sloppy play.”
Henry grinned. “Sure you are, and it will do them good. But they’ve got to see both sides of the coin. Speaking of coins, I’ll bet you that with the outfit you’ve got right now, you can make up lost ground and squeak into the playoffs. If you do, those kids will be at a pitch that’ll get you the conference championship again.”
Jad leaned back in the booth. He said softly, “Yeah! You know it might work out that way. It just might.”
He glanced at Martha. She was taking a sip of coffee.
“You’ve got the right angle,” Henry said. “I’m going to hack at the pro game for a few years, as long as I can stay on top, and then I want to get into coaching too.”
In an even voice Martha said, “This is a nice life, though next year I imagine, if the team is now all you say it is, we’ll be at a much larger school.”
“That’s right,” Jad said jovially. “Big-time. A real organization. A lot of talent to draw on.”
Henry raised his eyebrows. He stirred his coffee. “I don’t know, Jad. I think you get the best deal in the small places. You don’t make so much, but it doesn’t cost you as much.”
“Jad wants a big school,” Martha said.
There was something odd about her tone. Jad looked at her curiously. She didn’t meet his glance. He shrugged.
“Oh, those kids had it tonight. Just like old times, Henry. Wasn’t it? They pulled stuff I never knew I’d taught ’em. And that Miller!” He frowned. “You know, next year I might be able to work some judgment into that boy. My first string will have to be Miller, Petrie, Cohen, McGuire and Ames. I think I can wake Ames up. We might—”
“Won’t that be someone else’s problem, dear?” Martha asked sweetly.
Jad started with surprise and then laughed. “I almost forgot I wasn’t going to be stuck here forever.” His laughter died on a sour note. “That’s funny. Yesterday I was dying to get out of this place. Now, when it looks like I’ll be able to make it, I feel — a little upset.”
Martha’s fingers bit into his wrist. “Look around, Jad darling,” she said, her voice low and tense. “Look at what we have here! Where else in the world could the two of us be as happy?”
There was confusion in his tone. “But it’s a... a little place.”
“If bigness means the same as goodness, Jad,” Henry said, grinning, “then your pint-sized wife is a pretty miserable sort of woman.”
Jad frowned. “You know... maybe I might stay right here.”
He looked at Martha. Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears.
Henry said hurriedly, pushing his way out of the booth, “Well, I guess I’ll turn in, folks.”
As Henry went into the guest room he sighed heavily. There had been hopes of one day holding down the coaching slot at Nyeland.
It looked as though the job was filled. For keeps.