Free Field of Schemes by Jennifer Coburn Page A

necessarily,” Dick added. “He brought six girls out last year and didn’t take a one of ’em.”
    How do you know that? Why would Preston do that?! Why am I listening to this guy?
    “Hey, it was nice meeting you, Dick,” I lied. “Bobby, good to see you, but I need to go see my friend, um, Jane. See you later.”
    “See ya, Claire,” Bobby shouted.
    “Nice lady, but clueless as all get out,” I heard Dick report as I walked away.
    A few steps later, I heard Bobby shouting at Cayenne. “Get the lead out! I need you first to the ball every time. You’re with the pack. Speed it up!”

Chapter Nine
    As we started our hike, the leaves crunching beneath our boots, I suggested Rachel grab her sweatshirt. “Last chance to get it from the car. From here on in it’s you, me and the woods.” She rolled her eyes and told me she didn’t need it.
    A few minutes into our walk, I told her that I was pleased with her spring report card. I had a definite agenda for us—refocus on things other than soccer. Since the first tryout, all Rachel wanted to talk about was soccer. All I could think about was soccer. As much as Rachel wanted to make the Kix team, I wanted it for her more. Not so much for the soccer, but because it gave Rachel such purpose. If she was a normal adolescent, this would be important. Considering she’d recently lost her father, soccer was a lifeline.
    When we didn’t get a call right away, I dialed Preston to see if Rachel was invited to callbacks. I tried to act cool and tell him that I was “just getting our schedule together” and wanted to see if we should block out time for tryouts, or do something else equally fabulous. Better, even. I’ll bet I really pulled one over on him. He chuckled a bit, which I found a little condescending, and said he would have to check his notes. After an eternal few seconds, he said that Rachel was one of the girls they wanted to have a second look at. “Great,” I said, then paused hoping for more. Nothing over the top. Just a little reassurance, like “Rachel is a naturally gifted player who will undoubtedly be an asset to our top team.” No such luck.
    When I took Dick’s advice, I knew I’d gone off the deep end. I actually went to the Soccer Post to buy Rachel a nice, soft jersey from the women’s United States National Team. Just a subtle message that Rachel was on her way to the World Cup, and Kix really should get in with her on the ground floor before she signed a Wheaties endorsement contract and forgot all about them.
    “Thanks,” Rachel said of my comment on her grades. “I got that ‘good’ in math up to an ‘excellent,’ ” she reminded me. Rachel was her father’s child. Tenacious, competitive and hard-working. Any soccer team would be lucky to have her. Any school! Any youth orchestra. Any art class would be lucky to have her. There’s more to life than soccer.
    “I noticed,” I said. “You really worked hard at that. I’m proud of you, Rachel.”
    “Thanks,” she replied. “When is Aunt Kathy supposed to have her baby?”
    “Any day now,” I said. “Are you excited?”
    So far, so good. Not a word about soccer.
    “Yeah. Babies are so cute.”
    “Aren’t they? How are things in your Girl Scout troop?”
    “Well, Natalie’s super mad at Mindy ’cause she says she only started liking Josh after she liked him first, and everyone’s taking sides.”
    “Oh, where do you stand?”
    “I don’t care about any of this stuff,” she said. “Josh is a dork.” After a few steps, Rachel continued. “Can I ask you a question?”
    I smiled. This was the moment when she let me see her soft underbelly. She would ask me a deep, perplexing question that would open up a discussion about life. Let the bonding begin, I thought. “Sure, Rachel, you can ask me anything.”
    “Do you think I made the team?”
    “Rachel,” I sighed. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about soccer.”
    “We weren’t?” she asked. “How