I think of what could have happened if Malcolm and I had been caught. I would have officially died from embarrassment if one of these men or women would have found us parked back in that isolated lot. Despite what is supposed to happen when the police find someone in that situation, I’m certain that if that had happened, if one of my brother’s friends would have come upon my car, there would have been no confidentiality, no professional courtesy. Whoever found us probably would have called Alec while I was sitting right there. I can imagine one of them now: Hey Alec, I’m holding your sister and some man in my patrol car with a pending charge of indecent exposure. Do you want to come pick her up, or should I call your folks?
Honestly, it would be more embarrassing now than if it’d happened ten years ago.
“How’s kindergarten going?” Alec asks as he plops down next to me on the aluminum bleacher, his body weight and large equipment bag landing with a thud and making me jump.
“I’d rather not think about it. Jase is having fun tonight. Let’s let him be?”
“Okay. Then tell me about your date.”
“There was no blind date.” I’ve gotten good at sticking to that story.
“Yeah, I heard. Mom said that something came up with Brian and you never met up with his friend? Is Brian’s patient okay?”
“Yeah, I think everything worked out. Mostly Sally has apologized. Like I said, the blind date was a bust.”
He nudges my shoulder with his.
I flinch away from his moist touch. His shirt is saturated with an aromatic combination of perspiration, dirt, and grime from his recent game. “Bro!” I scrunch my nose. “You stink.”
Alec laughs. “Fine. I smell, but you stink at lying.”
He nudges me again as I make ‘ew’ sounds and dramatically scoot away. We may be adults, but there’s part of me that wants to yell to my father, “Dad, Alec’s touching me. Make him stop touching me.” Then I remember that I’m a parent and I can’t do that.
“Look at you,” Alec says with a sly, lopsided grin.
“What?”
“Tell big brother all about this guy. I’m not out of the loop. I know you’ve gone on a few dates. I want to help. I mean...” He nods to his friend Steve Stivey who actually caught two long fly balls in left field tonight, sitting with his wife a few rows down. “...give me a name and date of birth, and Steve can run a nice detailed report. In minutes, we’ll know everything: parking tickets, moving violations, misdemeanors, felonies...”
I shake my head. “You know why I love living in a small town connected to other small towns where it seems like everyone knows everyone?”
“Because we all have your back?”
“No. I was being sarcastic. It was a rhetorical question.”
Alec pulls out his phone. “Give me your phone. I can start with his contact information.”
I lean back and tuck my phone tightly into my lap. “No.”
“Listen, I know I said it was a good idea to go on that date, but now, this is different. You know what they say...better safe than sorry. I owe it to Jackson and Jase.”
“First, what I told Mom was accurate. Brian had some work-related emergency. He and Sally didn’t make it, so if the other guy, Brian’s friend, was there, I never met him.”
“The other guy...implies that there’s another guy.”
I start to stand, but before I can, Alec reaches for my hand. “I’m really not being an ass.”
“You are. Have I ever offered to do background checks on every woman you sleep with?”
Alec’s cocky smile evaporates before me as his blue eyes darken and forehead furrows. “You slept with him?”
“Oh! Shit. This conversation isn’t happening.”
“Listen,” he says in a hushed tone. “It was one thing when it was Brian’s friend. Brian’s an all-right guy. He’s even subbed on the team a few times and comes to Wayne’s Place with Sally sometimes. It was one thing when you were going to meet his friend. This is a pickup.”
“When did you get so critical? It wasn’t a pickup. It was fate, and it was one night. So you don’t need to worry about Jase. Like I said the other night, I’m not telling him.”
“But you’ve gone out with this other guy a few more times?”
“So?”
“So that’s more than one night. Stivey can run a quick—”
I lean down and kiss my brother’s sweaty cap. “Thanks. Have a little faith in me. He’s nice.”
“Why should I have faith in you if you don’t?”
His question catches me off guard, but before I can process what he’s said, my son’s voice rings through the air.
“Mom! Grandpa got me ice cream,” Jase yells as he rushes through the dirt and dust toward us with my dad a few paces behind.
“Okay. Stay there,” I reply, not wanting him to climb up the bleachers with a cone in one hand. “I’ll be right down.”
My expression hardens as I turn back to my brother. “What do you mean?”
“If you believed that he was a nice guy...if you had faith, you’d introduce him to Jase.”
“I love you, Alec, but shut up. You don’t understand.”
He lifts his hands in surrender. “Fine. I don’t. Just remember, a background check is a call away. Do you want me to give you Steve’s number?”
Shaking my head, I work my way down the bleachers as Jase stands at the fence, his little fingers of one hand holding tight to the chain-link fence separating him from home plate while the other hand grasps the dripping cone. His shirt is smeared with melted ice cream and the hand with the cone is quickly disappearing behind a steady drape of white as droplets land on the ground and on his dusty shoes.
“Look at you,” I say with a grin. I turn to my dad. “Thanks.”
Dad laughs as a half-eaten cone comes to my lips.
“You want some, Mommy?”
I quickly take a small bite, mostly to stop it from hitting my nose. “Yum.”
Jase looks out on the field as the teams warm up. “Uncle Alec said he’d take me to the batting cage sometime.”
I turn to see Alec who followed me down the stands as he gives me one of his brother-knows-best looks. “You did?” I ask Alec.
“You know, I asked Jase to hang out so that his mommy would have some time for mommy stuff, but apparently, I’m supposed to shut up.”
I take a deep breath and let it out. “No background check. Don’t push me. I have faith. I just need time.” I smile. “And thanks. Jase would love to go to the batting cage.”
“It would be a big sacrifice for the women of the world, but maybe after the batting cage...” Alec gets down on one knee and steals a small bite of Jase’s ice cream cone. “...we could eat pizza, stay up late at my place, and watch guy movies?” Jase vigorously nods his head as Alec looks up at me with big and pleading eyes, the same color as mine. “On a non-school night of course,” he adds.
“Okay,” I yield. “You don’t suck as a brother.”
“Really, we can?” Jase asks.
“The okay was for Uncle Alec,” I clarify. “I’m not mad at him anymore. As for spending the night, let’s see. And first, your mommy needs a definition of guy movies before I even consider it.”
“What?” Alec asks dismayed. “Cars and Transformers. Where is your mind, sis?”
Jase bounces to his uncle and gives him a big hug, seeming immune to the stench. I begin to wonder if it’s a boy thing. Before I can give it much thought, a giggle rings from my lips as I see the mess Jase has made of Alec’s shirt, not that it wasn’t bad enough with sweat, but the addition of ice cream makes it worse.
“Did you see me hit it over the fence?” Alec asks Jase.
“I did. Can you teach me to do that?”
“After the way you hit that tomato with the big bat, I’d say it won’t be long. Pretty soon I’ll be taking lessons from you.”
“Really?”
Chapter Sixteen
Malcolm
&n
bsp; I grip Mandy’s hand tighter as she leads me through the park. As we pass other people, I find myself looking for students from my school or players and parents from the team. The ballfields in the distance are still full of players and spectators, but the open area and playgrounds are beginning to clear out as nighttime settles, the sky steadily growing a richer shade of red as darkness slowly overtakes the blue.
The middle-school soccer team that I’m coaching is actually doing very well. When I’m not preparing for my classroom or talking to—or daydreaming about—Mandy, I’ve been spending my time learning everything I never knew about soccer. Thankfully, I have great help. Rita Sanchez and her husband are very nice and more than willing to help me learn the finer differences between hockey and soccer. For example, there’s no penalty box in soccer, although, sometimes I think it would be a good idea. It also helps that Rita and I share a similar philosophy about the real goal of children’s sports. Instead of emphasizing the outcome, we both agree that instilling a love for the game is more important. Even with that philosophy, I’m happy to report that we have a winning record. More important, every student on the team plays. It’s about teamwork.
While the athletic director knows my history with the Lightning, to the kids on the team, I’m just the coach. I like that. I like getting to know the players without them giving me a status I no longer deserve. Coaching the team and teaching my class feels a little like my rookie year, needing to prove myself as worthy of my new titles. It’s funny how in hockey I was old and now I’m young again.
Holding Mandy’s hand is like that…a new start at life...a new life in all aspects, and I’m enthralled.
Still taking in the multitude of faces, I realize that I’ve never before lived in a town where I might run into people I know. While I like it, I’m not sure I want anyone intruding on the small sliver of time I get to spend with Mandy.
I chuckle to myself, thinking about the last time we were here, parked near the back of the property. Thank God we didn’t run into anyone then.
As we move farther and farther from the car, I lean toward Mandy and whisper in her ear, “Are you taking me to the rear parking lot again?” Though I’m partially teasing, I wouldn’t complain if her answer is yes. “It might have been better to bring the car, but I do have a blanket in the basket.”
“Nope,” she says with her magical giggle. “You promised me a picnic. That means the blanket goes on the ground and then there’s food in that basket, not a front seat and...”
“Fucking?” I ask, lowering my voice even more. Her cheeks bloom and rise as they fill with pink. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, giving me great access to her ear and sensitive skin. I love how casual she looks. It’s not like she isn’t beautiful all dressed up, but there’s something about jeans and a blouse that lets me know she’s comfortable with me. Of course, even when she was dressed up, there wasn’t much—or anything—I didn’t see.
Mandy shakes her head. “Right. None of that.”
I swing the picnic basket from my other hand as the breeze rustles the fallen leaves, blowing them into cyclones around our feet. The Midwest is so different from Florida. Down there, it is still essentially summer, despite what the calendar says. Here, everything is changing. It’s visible by the way the grass crunches under our shoes and the colorful leaves float through the air. As I take it all in, I’m glad Mandy wanted to do something outside. No loud music or bar scene for her. Instead of a band, the music playing is an orchestra of insects humming as everyday people enjoy life in the distance.
“This is so peaceful,” I say.
“It is. I love being outside, especially after being cooped up at work all day.”
I lean down and give her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for coming up with this great idea. Although, for the record, the last time we were here wasn’t a bad idea either.”
“I’m glad you could come tonight on such short notice,” she says, taking us away from the other topic at hand.
Instead of commenting like a teenager on how I want to come, I answer equally as truthfully. “I was thrilled to get your text. I didn’t think I’d see you again until later next week.”
“My brother surprised me. He planned something special for my son. I couldn’t say no.”
“So let me get this straight: I get a surprise picnic date, and whatever I come up with for later, you can’t say no?” My eyebrows wiggle.
“Whatever could you come up with?” she asks with a sly, knowing grin.
“I’m sure I can come up with something. I could give you the obvious answer, but you just said that the blanket needs to hold the food.”
Mandy shakes her head. “For your information, I can say no. And every time I’m not with my son, I feel guilty...but...” Her big light-blue eyes turn my way. “I think in his own way my brother is trying to be sweet. He said this was so I could do mommy stuff. I don’t think he meant laundry or grocery shopping.”
“Your family sounds very supportive.”
“They are.” She points up to the trees. With the orange hues of the setting sun, the colors of autumn are more vibrant than only moments earlier. “Aren’t the trees beautiful?”
“Is that your way of changing the subject?”
“Yep. Too real. Focus on us.”
“Okay,” I concede, “but first, I want to say that I’m thankful that your brother is giving us this time.”
She squeezes my hand. “Me too.”
I stare down at the brunette beauty by my side.
Mandy looks up. “What?”
“I’m just focusing on you.”
She shakes her head.
A little later, I lay the blanket over an old wooden table off to the side of the open park. I think it still qualifies as a picnic even if it isn’t on the ground and even though I know the rules, the idea of being on the ground with Mandy makes me ready to forget all about food. The trees behind the table give us a little seclusion while open field and lingering sunlight allows us to see. As I place the basket on the table, Mandy rubs her hands together enthusiastically.
“What did you bring?” she asks.
From the basket, I begin to pull out the food I bought at the deli, doing my best Vanna White impression. “For our dining delight…we have chicken, fried and one roasted breast just in case you don’t eat fried, coleslaw, pita chips, hummus, and a lovely bottle of sparkling grape juice.”
“Grape juice?”
“You said we were coming here. It’s not that I’m against breaking a few laws.” I raise my brow. “I think we may have the other night. But the city’s website said no alcohol in parks. I thought we might be pushing our luck if we tempt fate again so soon. I wanted to be safe. But I do have stronger drinks at home for later.”
Mandy continues to pull the paper plates, plastic silverware, and napkins out of the basket. “I love fried chicken, potatoes...just about anything battered and fried,” she adds with her cute grin. “And, gosh, Malcolm, this basket is like Mary Poppins’s!”
“It does seem to go on forever.”
Her blue eyes look my way. “You know Mary Poppins?”
“Of course. Who doesn’t? I love Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke.”
“Don’t tell me that you can sing Chim Chim Cher-ee.”
“I can, but not well. It would definitely take me drinking something stronger than sparkling grape juice to give it a go.”
Mandy’s lips surprise mine as she brushes them against my mouth in a soft kiss.
“What was that for?”
“I felt like giving you a kiss. You brought me on a picnic. You made all this food last minute and put it all in these amazing little containers...” She holds up a plastic deli dish. “...and you know Disney.”
I reach for her hand and pull her closer. “In the interest of full disclosure, the deli at the superstore made the food, but I did risk life and limb to stand in line to select it and then in another line to purchase it. It took most of my patien
ce to wait behind the reigning state coupon queen.”
“I always pick the wrong lane too.”
I shake my head. “I had no idea until she pulled out a three-ring binder. At first I was annoyed, but then as the total for her cart full of groceries continued to plummet, I was too impressed. I had to stay to see if the store would pay her to shop.”
Mandy laughs. “And…?”
“No, but it was close.” I take the container from her hand. “The deli also provided the marvelous containers. But if knowing Disney gets me a kiss, I’ll be happy to recite Old Yeller.”
“Oh no. You’re old school. Besides, everyone knows that movie makes you cry.”
“The book too,” I say.
Mandy’s smile grows. “I love that you read.”
“I’m so tempted to ask how many illiterate men you’ve dated, but I’ll stop myself.”
“That’s good. But the answer is none. It’s just that men like…my brother…can read, but they don’t read books. It’s more like they read sports and car magazines and websites. Ask him anything about the Cubs or Blackhawks and he’s all over it.”
I stifle the need to wince—another Blackhawks fan.
Instead, without effort the subject moves on.
As we settle at the picnic table and begin eating, we chat about books. I explain how I started reading because I had a job with a lot of travel. I want to tell her about The Lightning and more, but I keep it generic. I describe how boring it can get on the road. There are always bars. That gets old fast. A lot of other people who I worked with watched movies, but my mom has always been a reader, so I made the mistake of downloading the book app on my phone.
“That doesn’t sound like a mistake. I’ve spent many nights lost in great stories.”
“It’s one of my favorite ways to go to sleep,” I admit.
“How else do you like to fall asleep?” she asks as her eyes open wide.
All ONES: The Complete Collection Page 29