I’ll buy us some supper so we can catch up on things.”
“That’d be great, I’ve got a date with Cass in about an hour. She just got home from France and we’ve got a lot of catching up to do, too,” Rod said, hopping out of the shower and drying himself.
“You don’t say. Well, what do you know about that? Old man Worthington getting soft or just putting out a little bait?”
“Don’t know. Cass said she would meet me here at the club tonight. I don’t ask questions I can’t stand the answer to.”
“Smart. Why don’t you take my car and go somewhere a little more private than this place? Stay as long as you like. I can get a ride home.”
“Are you serious? You know I don’t have a driver’s license,” Rod said, catching the set of keys Jack tossed across the locker room.
“Don’t worry about it. This may be your last chance for a late date before two-a-days start next week. Besides, I’m curious about what old man Worthington’s up to.”
Jack had eaten his usual steak, baked potato, and downed his favorite beer. Rod caught Jack up on things since their trip while he devoured his cheeseburger, fries, and vanilla shake.
“My mother, little brother, and sister listened for hours to me describing Washington, complete with picture postcards and color brochures from every monument and building I toured.” He laughed. “You won’t believe it, but every time I told them about shaking the President’s hand, they had to shake the hand that shook the hand of the President.”
Switching to football, Rod said, “I’ve already got my play book and Coach Haskins has put in a new offense to take advantage of Junior’s talent as a deep threat receiver. In fact, the whole offense is built around us. It’s called the shotgun. It’s really crazy. I’m the only one in the backfield and all the other backs are spread out as receivers. It’s a new pro formation Coach saw the San Francisco 49ers use a couple of years ago and thought it would be perfect for our talent this season. I line up about six or seven yards back so I can see all five receivers and . . .” Rod’s description of the new formation stopped in mid-sentence when Cass entered the dining room and approached their table.
Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was stunning in a dark blue, strapless tube top with white shorts and white sandals. “Hi, Rod. Good evening, Mr. Workman,” Cass flashed a smile of perfectly aligned white teeth, the prettiest money could buy from her Dallas orthodontist.
“Good evening, young lady,” Jack said as Rod swallowed the last of his cheeseburger. “How is your grandfather?”
“He’s fine, still trying to keep his reputation as the crankiest man in Bois D’Arc,” Cass said, smiling.
“You look really great, Cass. How would you like to go for a ride in Jack’s fancy new car? He said we could have it for the evening.”
“You kids go have some fun. Two-a-days start soon,” Jack said with a grin.
The Lincoln Continental rolled slowly out the driveway from the parking lot and then stopped. Rod frowned when he turned to Cass. “I feel like we are a couple of criminals, sneaking out of prison. We can’t go into town. Everybody knows I don’t have a driver’s license. If we are seen at the Dairy Queen in this car, the cops will be on us before we can even order.”
“Calm down,” Cass said, running her hand over his fresh buzz cut. “I have a better idea. Turn the car around. Turn off the lights and go down the back road to the golf course. The moon is bright enough to see the way and we can park next to the water stand by the ninth green where it’s nice and private.”
Rod pulled the car as close to the water stand as he could and switched off the engine. He pushed a button that lowered all the windows of the big four-door sedan. Another button reclined the seats as far as they would go. The third button opened the sunroof on the big car. They relaxed back and
“That’d be great, I’ve got a date with Cass in about an hour. She just got home from France and we’ve got a lot of catching up to do, too,” Rod said, hopping out of the shower and drying himself.
“You don’t say. Well, what do you know about that? Old man Worthington getting soft or just putting out a little bait?”
“Don’t know. Cass said she would meet me here at the club tonight. I don’t ask questions I can’t stand the answer to.”
“Smart. Why don’t you take my car and go somewhere a little more private than this place? Stay as long as you like. I can get a ride home.”
“Are you serious? You know I don’t have a driver’s license,” Rod said, catching the set of keys Jack tossed across the locker room.
“Don’t worry about it. This may be your last chance for a late date before two-a-days start next week. Besides, I’m curious about what old man Worthington’s up to.”
Jack had eaten his usual steak, baked potato, and downed his favorite beer. Rod caught Jack up on things since their trip while he devoured his cheeseburger, fries, and vanilla shake.
“My mother, little brother, and sister listened for hours to me describing Washington, complete with picture postcards and color brochures from every monument and building I toured.” He laughed. “You won’t believe it, but every time I told them about shaking the President’s hand, they had to shake the hand that shook the hand of the President.”
Switching to football, Rod said, “I’ve already got my play book and Coach Haskins has put in a new offense to take advantage of Junior’s talent as a deep threat receiver. In fact, the whole offense is built around us. It’s called the shotgun. It’s really crazy. I’m the only one in the backfield and all the other backs are spread out as receivers. It’s a new pro formation Coach saw the San Francisco 49ers use a couple of years ago and thought it would be perfect for our talent this season. I line up about six or seven yards back so I can see all five receivers and . . .” Rod’s description of the new formation stopped in mid-sentence when Cass entered the dining room and approached their table.
Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was stunning in a dark blue, strapless tube top with white shorts and white sandals. “Hi, Rod. Good evening, Mr. Workman,” Cass flashed a smile of perfectly aligned white teeth, the prettiest money could buy from her Dallas orthodontist.
“Good evening, young lady,” Jack said as Rod swallowed the last of his cheeseburger. “How is your grandfather?”
“He’s fine, still trying to keep his reputation as the crankiest man in Bois D’Arc,” Cass said, smiling.
“You look really great, Cass. How would you like to go for a ride in Jack’s fancy new car? He said we could have it for the evening.”
“You kids go have some fun. Two-a-days start soon,” Jack said with a grin.
The Lincoln Continental rolled slowly out the driveway from the parking lot and then stopped. Rod frowned when he turned to Cass. “I feel like we are a couple of criminals, sneaking out of prison. We can’t go into town. Everybody knows I don’t have a driver’s license. If we are seen at the Dairy Queen in this car, the cops will be on us before we can even order.”
“Calm down,” Cass said, running her hand over his fresh buzz cut. “I have a better idea. Turn the car around. Turn off the lights and go down the back road to the golf course. The moon is bright enough to see the way and we can park next to the water stand by the ninth green where it’s nice and private.”
Rod pulled the car as close to the water stand as he could and switched off the engine. He pushed a button that lowered all the windows of the big four-door sedan. Another button reclined the seats as far as they would go. The third button opened the sunroof on the big car. They relaxed back and
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