Chapter 21

[May]

Julie Amanda Taylor came screaming into the world, and she didn't stop screaming for three months.

Colic, they called it.

Tami's mother came down from Dallas to help the first week, but Shelley replaced her the second.

After a week with Shelley sleeping on the couch in the living room, and Julie crying from six to eight every evening, Eric just needed a break. He called home when the school day was over, and for the first time in the course of their marriage, he outright lied to his wife. He could hear Shelley was running the vacuum cleaner in the living room. It was the only thing that settled Julie.

"I'm so sorry, babe," he told Tami, "I've got a department meeting this afternoon." That much was true. "But then I've also got this meeting with the administration and Coach Compton to go over some eligibility stuff for next season." That was the lie. "It's going to be really long. I probably won't be home until nine."

Around six, he walked into a pub and sat down with two co-workers at a four-person bar table. They ate dinner and threw back a few beers and talked while watching the TV screens.

"Yeah one of mine had colic too," Coach John Compton said. Eric respected the head coach and was learning a lot from his boss. The man was only forty-six, but he already had a full head of gray hair and the experience to go with it. He'd spent twenty-two years coaching at this same junior high, despite several offers to coach 5A high schools. He was firm but patient with the kids, demanding yet compassionate.

"One of mine too," said Mick McKinney, who was an 8th grade history teacher. "One weekend, I told my wife I had a two-day, continuing education seminar. I just stayed in a cheap motel all weekend long and slept and watched TV in peace and quiet."

"Well, well, well," came a voice from behind Eric. He turned around to see Tami's old boyfriend, Mo McArnold.

"Mo. Long time no see," Eric said with fake enthusiasm. "John, Mick, this is an old high school…uh…acquaintance of mine."

"Morris McArnold," Mo said, extending his hand to each of the men.

Mick McKinney pulled out a chair. "Want to join us?" he asked.

Oh hell, Eric thought.

Mo sat down. "What are you doing in San Antonio?"

"I'm coaching junior high football," Eric said. "And teaching 7th grade history."

Mo reached out and grabbed a passing waitress by the arm. "Bourbon. Neat. Your best."

"Sorry, but we don't have any bourbon."

"Okay," Mo said. "Your best whiskey then." He winked at her.

Coach Compton raised his eyebrow.

"And what brings you to San Antonio?" Eric hoped to God Mo didn't live here.

"Business," Mo answered, putting a hand on his knee. "I live in Houston now. But you know that Alamadome they're building?"

"We're familiar with the Alamadome," Coach Compton answered.

"Well, I'm one of the investors. So I'm here to meet with some people." He pulled out a card and slid it to Eric. It said: Morris McArnold, Real Estate Investment. "You can keep that."

Eric took the card warily. Mo had been a C+ math student in high school. When had he become interested in investments? Or real estate for that matter?

"I don't suppose you have a business card," Mo said. "Eric Taylor, Teacher. Assistant Junior High Coach."

Coach Compton looked cautiously from Eric to Mo.

Mo's whiskey arrived, and he downed it and hissed. "I'll have a second. How about you, Eric? Can I buy you one?"

"Nah," Eric said. "I'll just stick with this beer."

"Why?" Mo asked. "You got a curfew or something?"

Eric clinched his teeth.

"We all have curfews," Coach Compton said. "We've got wives and kids to get back to. Because we're grown-ups." He leveled his eyes at Eric, the way he did when he was getting ready to discuss an important play and he wanted his assistant's full attention. "We're not in high school anymore, right, Eric?"

"Wives and kids, huh?" Mo said. "You find yourself a little filly in college, Eric?"

"I found her in high school," Eric said deliberately. "You know. Tami."

Mo laughed loudly. He grabbed the waitress again and ordered Eric a shot of whiskey.

When the two drinks came, Mo raised his glass to Eric. "To congratulate you on your successful campaign."

Eric raised his glass warily and sipped lightly. He really wanted to tackle Mo right now, but he wasn't about to do it in front of his boss.

Mo set his empty glass down on the table. "I didn't think you and Tami would make it through college. I figured Tami would find someone else."

"Well she didn't."

"And you've got kids already?"

"One. Newborn. We've been married a few years. We got married right after Tami's sophomore year."

"Did you now?"

"Surprised you didn't hear about it," Eric said.

"Well I haven't been back home since I left for college. My folks moved to Austin." He nodded to the drink. "You gonna nurse that?" Mo asked.

Eric shot the rest of his whisky. Mo raised his hand to a passing waitress and asked for two more. "So, Tami Taylor, huh? When these shots come, we're going to drink again to your success." He stared at Eric. "You always were good at the quarterback sneak."

Eric really, really wanted to tackle this guy.

"Sneakiness…" Mo hissed, "You were always known for your sneakiness, weren't you? Going behind my back, telling Tami I was sleeping with Billie Dean Elizabeth."

"Her name was Mary Ellen," Eric said.

"I almost forgot about Mary Ellen," Mo said. "She was fun in the sack. Not as fun as Tami though."

Eric's chair scraped back. Coach Compton reached out and put a forceful arm across his chest before he could stand up.

"Well, Morris," Coach Compton said. "It was lovely meeting you, but we all have families to get home to." He stood up. "Eric," he said, "Mick, let's go. I'm sure Morris here will be happy to cover our bill, seeing as he's such a successful investor."

On their way out of the bar, Eric threw Mo's business card in the trash. If Tami found it, she'd ask about it, and then she'd ask where he'd run into Mo, and then he'd be in trouble for his night out.

When Eric got home, Shelley was sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in her lap. "Do you have any blank tapes?" she asked. "I want to record something later." She pointed to a tape on the end table. "Okay if I use this one?"

He snatched the tape up and cradled it to his chest. "No! That's game tape!"

"Wow. Chill out, Eric."

"I'll get you a blank tape." He pulled out the drawer in the end table, grabbed an unused tape, and handed it to her. "Tami asleep?"

"Yep." Shelley put her hand in the popcorn bowl and continued to watch the TV.

"Baby asleep?"

"You don't hear her screaming, do you? Tami took her in to bed to feed her a half hour ago. I think they both fell asleep in there."

With Tami having to breastfeed the baby, what exactly was Shelley's role here anyway? "When are you heading back to Dallas?" Shelley had finished her associate's degree in education in December, and she'd had a job at a preschool, but it had let out for the summer already, ahead of the regular schools, so she wasn't working again until late August. She was also still living in her mother and stepfather's basement.

"When Tami doesn't need me anymore."

Need her for what? She'd changed a few diapers yesterday. Done some laundry. Made a grocery store run. Washed the dishes. Okay, maybe she was helping a little.

"You want to sit down and watch Beverley Hills 90210 with me?" Shelley asked him. "It might prepare you for coaching high school, if you ever move up."

He glanced at the television. "It's about football?"

"No, but it's about high school."

"Is that on right now?" he asked. "You didn't record that, did you? You didn't use one of my tapes, did you?"

"Relax. I recorded it in Dallas and brought it with me. Don't worry. I would never record over one of your precious game tapes."

"Good night," he said, and disappeared down the hall.

Tami was passed out cold, Julie snoozing at her bare breast.

"I love you," he whispered and kissed his baby's bald little head.

Julie woke up wailing.

[*]

Two days later, Shelley got an offer to teach a summer preschool day camp, and off she went back home to Dallas. The new parents had two days alone with the baby before James and Betty Taylor arrived.

"At least they have the decency to stay in a hotel," Eric said.

One evening, Julie began one of her colic episodes in the midst of a family dinner around the cramped kitchen table. While Tami tried to comfort the infant, Eric dug his hand in his hair and said to his father, "This is what it's like. Every night."

"Well, son, it always gets worse before it gets better." Mr. Taylor stood up from the table, strode forward, and insisted, "Give her here. Give me my granddaughter."

Tami surrendered the baby, and Mr. Taylor supported Julie's neck while bouncing with her. She immediately fell silent. "That's my grandbaby," Mr. Taylor murmured. "That's my girl."

When Eric started clearing the plates to the sink, Tami came over to him and whispered, "Who is that man your mother brought with her?"

Eric shrugged and said, "I have no idea. I've never met him before."