Stupid Boy Senior Year Fall 19

Chapter 19 -- Can I Come Home With You?

Saturday October 22

We met everyone in the lobby.

"Where y'all want to eat?" Wyatt White asked. "I know of a good barbecue place that's not too far from here."

"Daddy, David and his family might not want to go to one of your favorite restaurants," Scarlet worried.

I could tell that Ashley and her group were staying out of the decision.

"I could eat some good barbecue," Mom said. "I hope it's nothing fancy."

"It ain't fancy," Clay, Scarlet's supposed boyfriend, assured us.

We ended up about fifteen minutes from Bryant-Denny Stadium. On the ride there, I received a text from Tim, wondering where I was. I checked the time, and it was nearly eight. I must have had a good nap.

We arrived at Dreamland Bar-B-Que, and it looked just like an old-school barbecue place should. Everything was served on paper plates, and they gave you plastic silverware. I shook my head when Wyatt ordered a gallon of sweet tea and then slabs of pork ribs and sides. We decided to just keep it friendly during dinner and not talk about the babies.

Wyatt and Diana White mentioned that they owned a farm near Maplesville, Alabama.

"We have about 10,000 acres that we run a sportsman's retreat on. We have a large lake for bass fishing, and some of the best deer and turkey hunting in the state," Wyatt said. "Dove hunting, too."

He was obviously pretty proud of it.

"I thought you lived on a farm?" I asked.

"No, that's Clay and his people. They have a cotton farm a few miles from our spread," Diana said.

"My folks are going to put a trailer back by the pond for me," Clay shared.

I saw Scarlet shudder a little bit at that prospect.

"What do you do?" I asked Mr. Kincaid, Ashley's dad.

"Our family is involved in the transportation industry, down near Mobile. Brett is in management at one of our warehouse operations," Hiram shared.

"Don't get him started on work. He'll talk your arm off," Marianne Kincaid said.

"They both sound quite interesting. I know that David has hunted on his uncle's farm. He and all the older guys in the family went on a ten-day fishing trip to Canada over the summer. I'm sure he would love to check out your resort," Mom said. "I don't know anything about the transportation industry, but that sounds fascinating, too."

When they wanted to, my mom and dad were very good at making people feel at ease. Dad helped steer the conversation away from any potential minefields, like 'our son knocked up your daughters.'

It was decided that we would go back to the hotel and use a conference room to talk about the children. Dad suggested that we do it one family at a time. I figured that was probably the best idea because I could see that they might have different needs. That, and I was worried that Scarlet's fears might rub off on Ashley.

Before we left, I ordered a case of their barbecue sauce to be shipped home. It was the perfect blend of sweet and tangy. I wanted to have Mary try it and see if we could use it to make our barbecue at the restaurant. There had been a rumor that we might get a smoker and I wanted to be ready. Wyatt had picked a winner in Dreamland, and Mom and Dad agreed. If I ended up at Alabama, I would come here again.

---

At the hotel, we had the Kincaids join us first. I wasn't sure I wanted Ashley's boyfriend in the room, but Brook had decided she wanted to sit in. My first thought had been this was family business. I'd used that argument to shut down Tami's access to all things Dawson when we were at odds. Of course, my mom hadn't played along, so back then, I'd decided to just let it go. I sighed and let it go this time, too, and started the ball rolling.

"Ashley and I talked last night, and we're going to move forward right now as if Dawson and Allen are mine ..."

"Is there any doubt?" Brett asked to make his presence known.

"How would I know if there's any doubt or not?" I shot back, which caused his face to go red.

"I think you better watch what you say. You've done enough damage without questioning Ashley's character."

"I did no such thing. All I'm saying is that we need to confirm paternity. This works in everyone's favor when there's no doubt that I'm the father."

"I'm going to kick your ass," Brett said as he stood up.

I looked him up and down and thought I could take him in my current physical state. The door opened, and Mom pointed at Brett.

"Get him out of here," she said to Fritz and Cassidy.

I was glad that Mom had sent them a text before this came to blows. Brett tried to be tough and started to tell them what he thought when Fritz, of all people, took him to the floor. Brett was struggling to get loose when Cassidy found a pressure point. His voice then suddenly went up to dog-whistle range as he squealed like a little girl.

I'd have found it amusing that none of the Kincaids tried to stop my security people, but these discussions needed all of my focus right now.

"If he makes noise about calling the police, have him arrested for threatening physical harm to David," Dad said.

Fritz nodded and frog-marched him out.

"Sorry about that," Hiram said.

"See what I mean?" Ashley asked me and then turned to her parents. "I'm not marrying Brett, and I'm not working for the warehouse company while he works there."

"We've talked about this. Brett's a good employee," Hiram said.

"I didn't tell you to fire him," Ashley shot back.

"And if you're not going to work for me, you need to figure out what you're going to do."

Ashley looked defeated. It was a perfect opportunity, so I ran with it.

"You want to work for me? I have businesses with offices in LA, Chicago, and my hometown. I even have contacts in New York. One of them owns an adult film company."

"David Allen Dawson!" Mom barked.

Ashley, to her credit, began to laugh uncontrollably. She kept pointing at the expression on her dad's face and then would start to laugh again.

"I'm sorry. I'd never have even thought to bring it up, but last night Ashley said she wanted to explore all her options, and I was just trying to help. I didn't mean it to say anything about her character," I backpedaled.

Now Ashley was howling with laughter, and it didn't take long for everyone else to get the humor of it.

"You don't even know what my degree is in. How would you know if I would fit in?" Ashley asked when she finally could speak.

"I do know that you were able to give tours to a bunch of cocky athletes. You have a sense of humor and can think on your feet," I said.

"What is your degree in?" Mom asked.

"Art History."

"Can you say, 'Would you like fries with that?'" I asked.

This time Hiram and Marianne laughed. They knew she'd never have to stoop to that, but an Art History major didn't translate into a real-world job, either.

"Hey, I figured I could land a job with the Mobile Museum of Art," Ashley said to defend herself.

"More like you were working on your MRS degree," Marianne said.

I knew right then that I would get along fine with the Kincaids. I also understood now why Ashley had said her situation wasn't as bad as Scarlet's. If it weren't for the 'you must get married' mentality of parents in the Deep South, Ashley would be okay. They weren't going to throw her and her babies out into the street if she didn't cooperate, and it was clear they wanted the best for her. They just had very conservative ideas of what the best for her was.

Then Ashley got serious.

"Is the job offer still available even if we find that Dawson and Allen aren't yours?"

"Have you ever thought about becoming a real estate agent?" Mom asked.

I knew then that Mom liked Ashley.

"I'm not sure if I want to go into sales."

"In real estate, if you're selling, you're doing something wrong. Your main job is to help people find what works for them. You don't have to twist their arms if it's the right choice," Mom explained.

"I like that," Hiram said. "I can see where that would work for Ashley."

"Here's what we'll do," Dad said. "I'll have Caryn, our chief operating officer, call you on Monday and let you know what we have available."

Ashley asked her mom and dad to give us a moment alone. My parents also left. Ashley got up and hugged me and began to cry.

"I'm sorry," she managed to get out.

"If I remember correctly, we were both there. I should have insisted on using condoms."

She then admitted that she was flat broke, didn't want to hit her parents up for more cash because of the Brett situation, and needed stuff for the boys.

"Brook, would you go with her and help her get what she needs?" I asked, and she nodded, so I turned back to Ashley. "Do you know what all is involved with your trust fund?"

"Not really. I can see now that I need to investigate that for the boys' sake. I just don't know where to start," she admitted.

"The good news is I have people who can help with that if you find you need it. The great news is you also have my mom in your corner now. With the help of your parents and mine, we'll be okay. We just have to go through the steps to do this right. We want what's best for those little boys."

---

Next up was Scarlet. She'd told her family and boyfriend she wanted to handle this alone. Scarlet walked in and handed Carol to me. It hadn't been missed that Scarlet had named her after my mother.

"How did you know that Carol was my mom's name?" I asked.

"Google. You can figure out all kinds of stuff on the Internet."

"Don't I feel stupid."

Mom and Dad smirked.

Carol snuggled down into my arms and had a silly smile on her face.

"Wow. I've never seen her take to anyone like that," Scarlet admitted.

"It's his superhero ability, baby whisperering," Dad said.

I'd take that.

"So, tell me what you want?" I asked.

Scarlet got a determined expression on her face and launched right in.

"I'm not living in a trailer on a farm, and I'm not picking cotton the rest of my life. If I don't find something soon, that's exactly what I'll be doing."

"Would you be interested in what David offered Ashley? Would you like to work for one of his companies? They're located in LA, Chicago, and our hometown," Dad said.

"Please tell me you're not an Art History major," I said as I crossed my fingers.

"I have my degree in management. I'd like to work somewhere where I could take night classes and get my MBA."

"We can work something out, I'm sure. You also said you need money, at least until you turn twenty-five," I prodded.

"Anything you could do would be a help. I'm not asking for a handout. If I could work for it, I'd be much happier," Scarlet said, surprising me.

Mom made both Dad and I pull out cash to give her.

"I know it's asking a lot, but could Carol and I come home with you?"

My mom told Dad and me to take a walk. That last question made her want to talk to Scarlet alone.

---

When we came out, Fritz told us that Cassidy had taken Brook and Ashley to the store. Then he got a concerned look on his face.

"I just got a call from Paul. There was an incident at your home. The police took Peggy's date into custody."

I thought my mom had warned her about that guy. Fritz's background check hadn't turned up any information on him. That was why we'd upped our security. Chuck had drawn the short straw and watched Peggy and the little ones.

"Is everyone okay?" I asked.

"Yes. The boys and Duke were at Pam and Lacy's place. Chuck was watching over them," Fritz said.

---

Sunday October 23

While I got ready for the day, I thought back to last night. Fritz didn't have much information on what happened with Peggy and Lucas Marks, her date. From what I gathered, they'd come back to the house so she could change. He'd accidentally spilled a drink on her, resulting in the need for a wardrobe change. While she was upstairs, he tried to hack into our home-office computer. What Lucas didn't know was that Fritz's team had protected our computers with anti-tampering software that alerted his LA office if someone tried anything.

They'd contacted Paul who was outside. He came in and found Lucas with a thumb drive plugged into the back of the PC. Peggy was in shock when she came down and found Lucas face down on the office floor with his hands secured behind his back with zip ties. Paul called the police, and they took Lucas into custody. Fritz said that Lucas probably would have been let out of jail last night, but the police couldn't identify him either. They fingerprinted him and planned to run it through the system to see if they could get a hit.

Brook and I had gone to the party that Tim and Wolf were at with Jim and had a good time. When we left, Mom was still talking to Scarlet, so I didn't know what that was all about.

I'd just turned on the TV to watch a football wrap-up show when I heard my door chirp and open. Brook and Cassidy came in, pulling their bags.

"You ready to go?" Brook asked.

"Yeppers."

All the recruits and their families had been invited to Coach Wilson's house for breakfast. Before we left, we took our bags to be checked. We would pick them up on the way to the airport. I needed to come back anyways to take the paternity test. We were the last ones to arrive downstairs, so the bus left as soon as we boarded.

When we arrived at Coach Wilson's house, we were greeted by his wife, Ms. Ruby. She was the daughter of a Pennsylvania coal miner, and you could tell that her down-home nickname undersold her savvy. She went right to my mom to introduce herself. She knew my mother was the one who eventually would need to be sold on wherever I went to play ball. She even called Brook by name. The woman had done her homework.

Ms. Ruby was Alabama's secret weapon when it came to recruiting. You would have never guessed from her humble beginnings that she would become such a poised, elegant, skilled conversationalist, actually recruiting you. She had such a deft touch that you felt like you'd known her forever and that you were one of her favorite grandkids. I think when she was done with us, we all wanted her to adopt us. Dad and I both took mental notes on how she worked the room. Someday I wanted to be as effective as she was at gaining people's trust. You could see people wanted to please her. She made it clear nothing would please her more than if each recruit became a part of her family.

I was about to learn how much work Alabama had gone to in my recruitment. Coach Wilson and his staff had done their homework. I would later find out that they'd talked to just about everyone around me, Wolf, and Tim to ascertain our character, what motivated us, and whether we would be a good fit for Alabama football.

---

Our next stop was to meet Coach Wilson one-on-one in his corner office on the second floor of the Mal M. Moore Athletic Facility. I recognized the reason for the location of his office. You were forced to walk past the crystal walls showing all of Alabama's national championships to get there. When we stepped into the room, he was seated behind a massive cherry desk. He smiled as he rose to greet us, and pressed a button that shut the doors once we'd entered. I gave him a ten on style points for the door.

He guided my family and me to an overstuffed couch. Brook had been told that he wanted to meet with just me and my parents. I looked around the room, taking in the wood panels, and noticed the shades were closed to soften the light. Sitting on the coffee table between us were three national championship rings. The light bounced off the diamonds, and all three of us were drawn to what they represented. If you came to Alabama, you would play in National Championship games. Coach Wilson took an overstuffed chair across from us.

Each coach we had met had approached this meeting differently. We'd been in conference rooms and coaches' offices where the coach had either sat behind a desk or come around to talk to us. This was by far the most impactful approach. I got the feeling that nothing had been left to chance, and I had to admit it was working.

Everyone thinks of Coach Wilson as a robot. On the sideline, he's focused on the game, and in public settings, he seems distant. Ms. Ruby had explained that he was probably thinking about football and was oblivious to what was going on around him. What we found today was a man who was focused on us. He was sitting on the edge of his seat and had a warm smile.

"I'm glad I finally get to talk to you with your parents. I want you to know that we would love for you to join us at the University of Alabama and become a part of something special. We will win championships here. You see these rings?" he asked as he pointed to them. "We will get more of these."

"I suspect you will," I said.

He leaned further forward and spoke with increased animation, like my dad did when he got into an in-depth discussion about the nuances of golf.

"And we'll help prepare you for the next level. We've had more NFL draft picks in the last five years than anyone. Anyone."

He had me starting to lean forward. This was what every recruit wanted to hear.

"Recruiting is the lifeblood of our program. After we won in 2012, I told a friend I was upset because I'd missed a week of recruiting while playing in the championship game. I was confused as to why he made fun of me. Ms. Ruby explained that it was because we'd won that game. I, on the other hand, was focused on the process. Part of that process is recruiting the absolute best players we can find. They don't care that I have to take time off to win championships," he said, giving a glimpse into his psyche.

I started to understand what Bo had told me. Coach Wilson had a way of doing things that worked. He had a plan, which he called 'the process,' and he followed that process, and pushed it hard. That would explain why Coach Wilson ran his offense a certain way. I was sure he did the same with his defense.

"The best come to Alabama to become better. We have a process. We focus on what we're doing right now, not what it will result in. We believe that if we work hard and are focused on the task at hand, the results will take care of themselves. I know that you work harder than anyone we've seen at the high school level. Here, you'll work even harder. With your hard work, you'll earn your way onto the field. I believe in the process to such an extent that I know that if you decided to go elsewhere, we will win without you, but I'd rather we did it together," Coach Wilson said.

I glanced over at Mom and saw her grinning. He'd just done the classic take-away with the 'we can win without you' spiel. It was a tried and true sales technique that made people want it even more. I admit it worked on me, in this case. He was also selling the idea of joining something bigger than yourself, another hot button for me.

"You say you know I work harder than anyone else."

He gave me a wan smile like he'd revealed something he shouldn't have. I could see him think about his answer and then our eyes locked.

"We create a detailed report on every recruit before we decide to pursue them. For each position, we've created what we think is the ideal model. It first covers the physical attributes that are necessary to play the position; in your case, quarterback. For example, the recruit must be a certain height to see over the offensive line. No detail is too small. Physically, you are the prototypical quarterback, according to our analysis.

"We then dig into the person. Will they fit into the team, are they a leader, what is their football IQ, and much more. We've talked to all your coaches, both football and baseball. Spoke with your assistant principal and teachers to assess your study habits and social conduct. We also consider how you handle adversity. What happens when you get blindsided? Do you chew out your teammates? We've done our homework on you.