“You know,” Grant said as he and Jack sat, each indulging in a second helping of chicken and dumplings, “this is the first time anybody has ever taken me out to eat for getting in a fight. My dad is not nearly as generous.”
“Well,” Jack smiled as he took a sip of sweet tea, “I like my farmhands to be well fed; they work better that way.”
“Farmhand?” Grant replied quickly.
“Well, you didn’t think I was going to let you off the hook this easy, did you?” Jack laughed. “I’m a nice guy, Grant, but I’m not that nice. Besides, I’m not the young man I was when I bought that ten acre spread I’ve got.”
Grant smiled and took another bite of his dumplings. There was no doubt that word of his newly blackened eye had already spread across town. From the moment he and Jack had walked into Maude’s, the place had been abuzz with gossip.
Jack called out to Maybelle behind the counter and ordered two slices of pie, then he turned his attention back to Grant. “We’ll have plenty of quality time to get acquainted when you’re helping me make repairs around the property on Saturday morning.”
“I’ll bet,” Grant shook his head with a laugh.
“Now, let’s talk basketball,” Jack said, leaning back in his chair.
“I know,” Grant said, rolling his eyes, “Paul and I have to work through our problems for the sake of the team. It’s obvious they’re loyal to him anyway.”
Jack nodded. “You know…Hailey and Paul have been close friends ever since they were kids. He must not be too bad of guy.”
“Hailey can be friends with whomever she wants,” Grant replied. “It doesn’t mean I have to like him.” He thought for a moment. “But, in case you’re keeping score…most of the things he said about me were true.”
“And why is that?” Jack inquired. “You seem like a good kid to me…what goes on in that head of yours sometimes?”
Maybelle walked over to the table carrying two slices of cherry pie. She sat one in front of Jack and the other in front of Grant. “Is there anything else I can do for y’all today?” she said in a twang so thick it sounded fake.
“I think we’re good, Maybelle. Thank you,” Jack shook his head. “We’re gonna gobble this down and get out of your hair.”
Maybelle put her hands on her hips. “Alice Harper just called in an order to-go, and she ask me had I heard that sweet Dottie’s grandyoungin started trouble up at the school…”
“He didn’t start any trouble, Maybelle,” Jack interrupted.
“I told her that I was lookin’ at the proof right on his face…” Maybelle went on.
“Maybelle, why don’t you just let the kid eat his pie in peace?” Jack laughed.
“Rumors seem to be spreadin’ like wildfire that our team ain’t goin’ to fare very well this season, Coach,” Boone Calhoun called from a booth in the corner.
“Well, then people will be pleasantly surprised, I reckon,” Jack said, taking a bite of his pie.
Maybelle sat down next to Grant, startling him. “So tell me, Sugar,” she said, putting her arm around him, “are the rumors true about you and Miss Hailey Jane Nelson?”
Grant glanced over at Jack, and Jack seemed to enjoy the moment, simply shrugging at Grant as though he wouldn’t mind hearing the answer to that question himself.
“I don’t know. What’s the word on the street?” Grant grinned.
“Bessie Harper said she heard that the two of you were caught holding hands and looking mighty cozy after church on Sunday,” Maybelle practically sang out.
“Wow! Who knew TMZ had operatives in Hope Hull?” Grant shrugged.
“Is it true? Are you sweet on her?” Maybelle nudged.
Grant laughed to himself. “I will say, my affection for her grew immensely today when she unleased a little Kung Fu on Paul Mason.”
Maybelle’s eyes flashed toward Jack. “What in Heaven’s name is this boy talkin’ about?”
“Oh, Maybelle, you know as well as anybody that Hailey can be a little spitfire,” Jack smiled, finishing off his pie.
“Maybelle, how ‘bout a refill on my coffee, Sugar?” Boone called from the corner.
Maybelle stood, hollering, “good grief, Boone, can’t you see I was talking? You know where the pot is as well as I do!” She walked toward the counter with little urgency. “I’ll have to brew a fresh pot; you want to wait?”
Jack shook his head as he smiled at Grant. “Back to the whole reason you and I are sitting here. Would you like to explain to me why you felt the need to give Paul a free nose job?”
“I wasn’t particularly fond of the things that were coming out of his mouth; I guess I missed,” Grant shrugged. He rolled his eyes before shoveling a piece of pie in his mouth and secretly praising Granny Miller’s culinary skills.
“This basketball season could have a profound impact on your collegiate athletic career, so why risk it over a little squabble with a teammate?” Jack sighed.
“I don’t know,” Grant shrugged. “I’ve been told by teachers, coaches and guidance counselors alike that I’m a loose cannon who will sabotage any and every opportunity that comes his way. If fact, when I was twelve, I spent some time on a psychiatrist’s couch, but his brand of healing wasn’t for me, and I wasted a pretty penny telling him horror stories that could have easily landed me in protective custody and the general at the forefront of a nationally televised investigation.”
“Why do you think you do stuff like that?” Jack asked.
“I don’t know,” Grant shrugged. “It keeps things interesting, I assume.”
“It can’t be for attention,” Jack smiled subtly. “I mean, all you’ve got to do is pick up a basketball, and you’ve got everybody’s attention.”
“Oh, it gets his attention alright,” Grant exhaled. “But don’t think I don’t know where you’re going with this…”
“Your dad’s not a big fan, huh?” Jack nodded.
