On Friday, August 22, the night of the home opener, I bought a ticket.
Seven dollars at a gate I used to unlock.
I sat in row 9 with a seat cushion and nothing to do with my hands.
The stand line ran forty deep by the anthem.
Jenna was at the window counting change on her fingers.
Kendra stood behind her, taking pictures.
Out by the visitor gate sat a black trailer with a smoker on the hitch.
Red flames ran down the side.
BIG ROD'S
A hand-lettered sign hung off the awning.
Booster Partner
I wondered which booster had agreed to that.
Then Owen trotted out for the opening kickoff, and I stopped wondering.
He's the kicker.
Senior.
He put it through the end zone.
We won.
The stand ran out of hot dogs before halftime.
Monday, August 25, 6:12 PM.
I was icing my wrist after a shift when my phone lit up.
Kendra, in the parents group.
Heads up, Hornet families! We've hit some transition issues with the previous treasurer… we're reviewing nine years of cash. Full transparency coming soon! 💛
It didn't say my name.
It didn't have to.
There's only one previous treasurer.
By nine o'clock it had 212 reactions.
Some were hearts.
Some were the little face with its mouth open.
Owen came in after practice and ran the faucet a long time over one plate.
"Mom."
"Yeah."
"The quarterback asked if you took the money."
The quarterback is Rod Haskett's son.
"He asked it loud."
"What did you say?"
"I said no."
"Then somebody laughed."
He set the plate in the rack.
"Did you?"
"No."
"Okay."
He went upstairs.
I sat at the table and didn't touch my phone.
I wanted to.
I wanted to type a thousand words.
I didn't type one.
Tuesday, August 26, 8:10 PM, Jason called.
He didn't say hi.
"Step back, Tess."
"From what?"
"From all of it."
"The stand, the account, Kendra."
"I already stepped back."
"I handed her the apron in front of sixty people."
"She says you're holding up the handover."
"I'm not holding up anything."
"The card's the district's."
"Then sign the district thing."
"I'll do whatever Dale says."
He breathed through his nose, which he's done since he was nine.
"Step back, Tess."
"Or don't come at Christmas."
Mom does Christmas at Jason's now.
Her knees.
So that's what he meant.
"Is that from you or from her?"
"It's from us."
He hung up.
I printed the portal page.
Balance, $18,612.47.
Drive deposits, $0.00.
I wrote a one-page reconciliation by hand, typed it up and emailed both to Dale at 9:02.
The subject line said "For handover."
No accusations.
Just the numbers, in order.
Dale didn't answer.
It was football season.
His inbox was probably four hundred deep in bus schedules.
On Wednesday, Owen told me somebody had asked the coach to share Kendra's "review" on the team page.
"What'd Coach say?"
"He said team page is for games."
That was something.
Thursday, August 28, 4:30 PM, the deli counter at Fenner's.
I was halfway through a ham when my cell buzzed in my apron.
My work apron.
Different one.
It was Tri-County's shop number, from Lima.
"Tess? Hector Salinas."
Hector made our warm-ups for nine years.
He never once sent a bill late.
"Hi, Hector."
"I'm calling about Invoice 4471."
"Uniforms, sixty game sets at one eighty-one."
"Ten thousand eight hundred sixty."
"Dated July twenty-fifth."
"Net thirty."
"It's thirty-four days old, Tess."
"Four days past due."
I put the ham down.
"Hector, I'm not the treasurer anymore."
"I know."
"Mrs. Wozniak ordered it."
"The other Mrs. Wozniak."
"I called her twice."
"She said put it on the club account."
"Far as my books go, the club is you."
He waited.
A customer stood behind the glass, pointing at the Swiss.
"Is it paid?" I asked.
"Not a dollar."
"I ship when it's paid."
"October third, or no homecoming."
Homecoming was October 10.
Halftime would be at 8:04, same as every year.
"Ask her where she wants it billed," I said.
"In writing."
"In writing?"
"Text her or email her."
"Ask which account."
"Keep whatever she sends back."
"Okay," he said slowly.
"I can do that."
I sliced the Swiss.
Half a pound, thin.
Thursday, 10:05 PM, a text came in from Jason.
Kendra says she's got more to post.
No hello.
No Christmas.
I read it twice with the kitchen light off.
I didn't know what Kendra had told Hector.
I only knew what I'd told him.
Ask in writing.
Keep it.
I typed with my thumb.
Post whatever you want about me.
The vendor keeps his texts.
Sent.