Page 49 of Final Down

“It’s interesting that I’m not the only person in this photo, yet I don’t see my husband being dragged before you all to be embarrassed.”

“Mrs. Stone, your husband is not a member of the faculty?—”

I hold up my hand and utter, “Ah ah ah.”

I glance at Wyatt, and he leans forward, sitting up tall.

“Hey, sweetheart? What was that thing you got in the mail the other day, you know, right before you left for training camp?”

My husband smirks, then stands, causing a wave of chatter and whispers to filter throughout the room.

“It was a letter stating I would be considered ‘on sabbatical’ until further notice. The football boosters were hoping I could maybe contribute to the spring program, help with workouts, and motivate the kids.”

“So, basically, remain on staff,” I lead, quirking a brow. I may have missed my calling as a lawyer.

“Basically. Yeah,” Wyatt says, giving me a wink before taking his seat.

This time when I turn back to face the board, Chuck, along with Tammy Neddles, another retired teacher who always votes his way, are both sitting back with their arms crossed. They look pissed.

“We probably should have booked more time for this meeting, then, right? I mean, clearly, you’re also going to evaluate how this sordid situation impacts my husband’s role at Coolidge High. We’re in the same photo. You know, both clothed, and married, and showing we love each other. To be clear, I did not take this photo. My husband also did not take this photo. We thought we were in the privacy of our hotel quarters, reconnecting after a few weeks apart. And he’s kissing my belly because, not that this is anyone’s business, but we’re having a baby.”

Maybe this is what I should have said in the first place, because the second my news breaks, the crowd becomes excited. There are a few whistles, some sweetawws,and there’s applause. Plus, it’s probably not a good look to come after the pregnant lady.

The gavel coming down on the dais startles me, along with many in the crowd, and decorum comes around. I have one last shot to make my case. The board members are all glancing at one another, leaning in and whispering.Conspiring.Yeah, I was wearing a Coolidge High cheer uniform. I paid for the thing when I was eighteen. I should get to wear it anytime I want. And again, I waswearingit. Not stripping out of it. And as far as anyone can tell, we were simply embracing—showing love.

“You know, a lot of things have been swept under proverbial rugs around this place when it comes to football. A certain fire my senior year comes to mind. And the underage drinking and skinny dipping in the river are a very public secret rites of passage. Oh, and I think there was a drag race or two between Coolidge players and Vista players. And?—”

“Your point is made, Mrs. Stone,” Chuck says, not wanting me to list more of the town’s dirty laundry.

“It’s Stone-Johnson,” I correct, making sure to note that Johnson name in the record. I may as well cash in on it if it helps.

“Noted,” Chuck says in a dry, emotionless tone.

“Thank you.” I curtsy, mostly because I’m nervous, then head back to my lonely chair in the back of the room while Chuck makes a public appeal for any more speakers on the topic. I’ve become a topic.

I stare at the back of Adrian Sommers’s head, my molars smashing together while I hold my breath. When the tight, blonde bun wiggles as she shakes her head, passing on the chance to judge me publicly, I spit out my breath and let my back rest against the hard metal of the chair.

The board ultimately votes to dismiss the complaint against me when I skate by three against two. Chuck, of course, votes to suspend me, as does Tammy. I’m not surprised by their decision, but I am a little shocked by the outcome. This town likes to act small when it’s convenient, and when it’s about something gossipy at the expense of a woman, it gets small real fast.

Chapter Nineteen

“So much for this story going away. “

I hand my phone to Peyton while I finish getting dressed. The Cyclones’ PR department has been working overtime. It seems a few people posted about Peyton’s speech last night at the board meeting, some of them sharing video snippets that have now gone viral. For the most part, the response has been positive. Yeah, there are the occasional assholes who hide behind their fake profile pics and keyboards to tear her down, but the positive comments have been overwhelming. They’ve also piqued the curiosity of a lot of media ready to talk about double standards in social media and sports.

“I should probably put out a statement or something. I can’t keep answering these with the same information over and over.” She folds her legs up in our bed and cradles my phone as her thumbs fly along the keyboard.

“That’s not a bad idea. For what it’s worth, though, I’m proud of you.” I lean over and kiss the top of her head.

“Thank you,” she rasps in a sleepy voice.

This time together was too short. I hate being apart. By the time we got home last night, we were both exhausted. I could barely keep my eyes open long enough to take a mental snapshot of her in my arms. I don’t even think I dreamed.

“There. Sent. I’ll call Jason this morning.” She looks up into my eyes as she returns my phone. She seems sad.

“I’ll just quit,” I say, running my hand through her hair once, then holding my palm to her cheek. She leans into it and hums through a soft smile, turning just enough to kiss my wrist.

“We both know neither of us are quitters.”

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