Free Safely Home by Ruth Logan Herne Page A

of us.”
    “And no paycheck from the wife.”
    “Who made little or nothing cheerleading in any case.”
    “But whose exposure could’ve, should’ve and would’ve gotten her a modeling career eventually.”
    The brothers exchanged looks. They’d both heard Lindi rationalize her choices over the years, the time she spent getting in shape, being in shape, practicing for the squad despite her young family. The girl had kept herself in prime condition to cheer on the Minnesota team while she lived in the midst of Green Bay fans, and had now left with one of the twin city players.
    Football .
    Mac wasn’t only a science teacher at the local high school, he was the head football coach. His ruthless fall regimen encompassed daily practices, strategy meetings and Friday night games under the lights. “How’s he going to coach the team?”
    Cruz sighed. “No clue.”
    Alex pushed up from the rock. “We’ll take charge of the kids for him. That’s the least we can do. That way he can coach without worrying about them, or have to cough up money to pay someone to watch them. Between you and me we can do that much.”
    “H e’s got a daily sitter for the work week. She’s good with them, so that’s covered.”
    “Housework?” Alex eyed his brother and they sighed in tandem. “I hate housework.”
    “Me too.”
    “I think it’s psychological. Too many years of Mom cleaning up after people, then making us clean up the house…”
    “Which we messed up while she worked cleaning up after people,” Cruz cut in.
    “Exactly . Which is why I have a service come in and take care of things.”
    “And why I eat out and don’t mess anything up,” Cruz rationalized. “That way there’s less to clean.”
    “We’re positively brilliant.”
    “But not much help.”
    Alex shrugged and headed for his car, leaving the posthole digger half-stuck in the ground. “I’m heading to Mac’s. You might want to grab a twelve-pack and meet us there.”
    “We can’t drink. We’ve got two kids to watch.”
    Leave it to Cruz to be sensible when Alex really wanted to tie one on with his bereft buddy and curse women in general. Alex shrugged defeat as he climbed into the car. “When you’re right, you’re right. Okay. Bring something non-alcoholic the kids will like.”
    “And chips.”
    Alex nodded as Cruz headed toward his jazzed ’69 ragtop GTO, his brother’s one true love. Well, besides football. And low-ante poker nights, two-beer limit enforced.
    He fumed all the way to Mac’s, then bristled some more as he strode around the drive to the side entry. “Mac. You here?”
    The sounds of kids in the backyard turned Alex in that direction. As he passed through the trellised access, Aiden faked-out three year old Nick and ran the Nerf ball into the edge of the privet hedge, arms raised high. Gloating, he did a five-year-old’s version of an end-zone dance, taunting his younger brother. “Fifteen yard penalty for unsportsmanlike conduct,” barked Alex, his tone no-nonsense.
    Aiden tossed the ball back at Nick, adding a little extra spin to ensure his brother would fumble the ball. “Uncle Alex!”  He raced across the yard, eyes bright, and leaped into Alex’s waiting arms. “You came to see us! Wanna play? I just juked Nick big time and made like ten scores on him.”
    “He’s three.” Alex noogied the kid’s head. “You gotta play fair, Aiden. He’s littler than you.”
    “I know.” Aiden shot Nick a look that wasn’t even close to repentant. “Mom used to say that, too, but she’s gone away and I can do whatever I want.”
    “Not true.”
    Alex turned left. Mac pulled himself up, out of a lawn chair.
    He looked awful. Hair messed, eyes bloodshot, and two days of five-o’clock shadow darkened his chin and cheeks. Alex frowned at him. “Rough, huh? Sorry, man.”
    Mac swept a hand across his face, then ran it up through his hair. “Yeah, well. Stupid is as stupid does. Should’ve seen it