Page 38 of Clean Sweep
“My pleasure.”
Clearly unburdened, Leslie turned back to her car and slammed the trunk closed.
“Well, now it’s time to decorate the Frolicking Moose and put Maverick’s Christmas family reunion together. Talk to you soon, Tanner!”
With that, she disappeared into her SUV with a wave. I returned to my truck, my phone burning in my pocket and my skin on fire where she’d touched me.
MY CONVERSATIONwith Leslie haunted me until I couldn’t stand it anymore.
Around 4:30 that afternoon, I pulled up her text message, clicked on the number, and pressed the phone to my ear. It rang twice before Landon’s voice came on the line.
“Hello?”
“Hey Landon, it’s Tanner Beck.”
“Coach?”
“The one. Do you have a minute or two to talk?”
He laughed. “Oh, that’s awesome. You’re the last person I expected to call. I’ve always got time for you, coach. What’s up?”
“We didn’t get to talk much the other day with all the excitement going on. Just wanted to tell you congratulations on the engagement and hear more about your life now. It’s not often that I get to catch up with my students.”
Thankfully, sincerity drove this talk. I really did want to catch up with him. My students had always just disappeared at the end of the school year. A few stragglers made their way back once or twice, but not often. Part of the reason I left coaching was all the questions it left in the air.
“Uh, yeah,” he said, his tone long. “Just a second.”
The sound of rustling and a lower register of voice followed. I stared out at the road and wondered if this had been a mistake before Landon came back on the line.
“Twenty minutes work?”
“You tell me, my friend,” I said. “I just wanted to touch base.”
“Sure thing.”
For the next seven minutes. Landon did what he’d always done—he spun a great story. I laughed, chortled, remarked, and we had a familiar back-and-forth. Catching up on his foibles since high school ended had been worth the call.
If nothing, it served as a reminder of how much hope I’d invested in these kids. Sometimes, I’d felt like a surrogate father, and that pride tripled through me now.
“You’re doing great, Landon, as you always did. But I have to ask about medical school—why’d you drop out? We worked hard on your applications, on your plan. To drop it? I was shocked, if I’m going to be honest.”
The first sound of hesitation entered his voice.
“Did my mom send you?”
“Your mom expressed concern to me,” I admitted, “but I don’t answer to her. My intention for calling is sincere. Landon, you wanted medical school bad.”
Until I said the words, I didn’t realize how true they were. Landon’s single-handed focus on medical school had been a plan that the whole school knew about. When he graduated as valedictorian, no one had been surprised. Landon had plans, and those plans always seemed to unfold before his feet.
He sighed.
“I know, coach. It’s crazy to me too, but this is the right path. The closer I got, the less I wanted it.”
I couldn’t help but think of his father, Ethan. Very nice guy. Low-key, visited with us often, but didn’t show a lot of spirit. He had a quiet life in his work owning an HVAC company and didn’t seem to take things too deep. Landon, on the other hand, was the opposite of his father, and I’d always wondered if something in their differences drove Landon to keep that going.
“Had you really wanted it, or were you chasing something for someone else?” I asked.
Landon sighed. “I’m still not sure.”
