First Kiss Fireworks

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First Kiss Fireworks Page 6

by Kristen Ethridge


  He’d been focused the first time they’d met and he asked for her help. He’d been involved as she explained aspects of TBI and testing and therapies in layman’s terms. He’d been engaged as she pushed back on his theories of punishment with the truth of God’s love.

  But she’d never seen him like this before—totally immersed. It was clear this game was his passion. And she loved watching him live it out. She felt the same kind of pride and joy as she did when a student of hers took what she taught and applied it out in classrooms to make a difference for other kids.

  As a teacher, there was often no greater joy than seeing learning absorbed and used and passed on.

  As a friend, there was no greater joy than seeing someone right where they belonged, doing what they’d been made to do.

  And Dane Vasquez had been made to coach this game and mentor these young men. Whether he cheered them on, made adjustments to the game plan, gave input on technique, or simply gave a high-five after a good play, Amanda found herself more caught up in what Dane was doing than in the game itself.

  She shelled another peanut, licking the salt off the husk, then popping the inner morsel in her mouth.

  Dane walked by and gave her knee a squeeze as he passed. Something inside Amanda fizzed like the bubbles in the bottle of soda on the ground at her feet.

  She loved feeling like a kid again—but even more, she loved feeling like a grown-up woman every time she followed Dane with her eyes.

  “Just gotta get Lark home, and then I promised you some fireworks,” he said.

  Amanda laughed. She’d been feeling aglow already for nine innings.

  “What’s that about?” He took his eyes off the field for a second and looked back at where Amanda was seated.

  She waved it off. “Nothing. Go win the game.”

  “As you wish.” He flashed her his wide grin and gestured at the field with his hand. The batter cracked a shot to the outfield that landed between the shortstop and the center fielder. As it rolled a few yards on the ground, Dane whirled his arm forcefully in a circle, waving Lark around third base and toward home. As Lark approached, he took a dive and slid for the plate, touching the white rubber with his fingertips just seconds before the throw from the field.

  The guys next to her on the bench jumped up en masse, and Amanda found herself shooting straight up with the same level of excitement. She slapped hands high and low—and she was pretty sure someone slapped her quickly on the backside, though she couldn’t tell if it was an accident or on purpose. Maybe it was a dugout rite-of-passage.

  Suddenly, a pair of strong arms slipped around her waist and tightened, lifting her off the ground. Her feet kicked slightly as she was spun in a small circle.

  Dane leaned his head low and she could smell minty bubblegum as he whispered just above her ear. “We weren’t supposed to beat these guys. Their starter tonight is an ace. You’re my new good-luck charm.”

  “It didn’t look like you needed any luck. Y’all played with control the entire time. I never would have guessed you thought you were the underdog.”

  He put Amanda down, and she couldn’t help but take notice of the brush of her body against his as she slid down his chest before her feet hit the ground.

  “Heeeey, Coach...” Amanda turned her head slightly and saw Lark Thomas, still on a high from scoring the game-winning run in the bottom of the ninth, giving his coach a knowing look.

  Within seconds, a cold wave poured down from above. Orange liquid sluiced down her hair, over her shoulders, and fell in a heap at her feet, splashing back up to mid-calf from the force with which it hit the ground.

  Amanda sputtered and wiped her eyes with her fingers. She looked over at Dane. Sports drink dripped from the brim of his cap. His uniform no longer matched the school’s blue-and-white color palette.

  Suddenly, the sound of an oversized cooler hitting the ground broke through the hoots and hollers, and then the laughter of about twenty college-age boys began to reverberate off the metal roof of the dugout and the walls.

  “Yeah, you’d better run,” Dane shouted back at the perpetrators as they scrambled up the far set of stairs and took off across the field.

  Amanda wiped some stray hairs back from her forehead. “So that was a first.”

  “You don’t get power drink showers in Porter Hall?”

  “Not unless something’s on fire.”

  Amanda hoped he didn’t notice the flush she could feel prickling at her cheeks. He didn’t need to know she was on fire. But this was something another orange drink dousing wouldn’t help. In fact, it made things even more problematic because while no man ever looked bad in baseball pants, Dane Vasquez looked absolutely smoking. Those wet baseball pants made the results of hours in the gym even more visible.

  She needed to turn away before she got burned by thinking of Dane Vasquez as more than the parent of a student she was assisting.

  “Come on, let’s go find some towels.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders.

  At that touch, Amanda knew she was roasting like a campfire marshmallow. Maybe just for tonight, she could play with a little fire. Dane was a worldly guy. Her idea of a crush was probably child’s play, compared to the things he’d seen in his time as a professional athlete. The realization steadied her just a bit. She could indulge her three-alarm fun and probably never set off a single bell in his mind.

  Dane led Amanda through a labyrinth beneath the stadium. “Stay right here for just a second.”

  He left her in the hall, then ducked inside the locker room and grabbed a stack of towels. Quickly, he decided to make a quick stop at his locker in the coaches’ area. He’d been through a number of post-game sports drink showers in his life, but Amanda probably hadn’t.

  Besides, it was taking all of his self-control to keep his eyes up on her face and not her soaking wet Provident College T-shirt.

  She needed some dry clothes before she drove him crazy.

  He pulled a clean shirt out of his locker. It was definitely not her size, but a boxy size XL over her small frame would probably do wonders to settle down his erratic pulse right now.

  “Got ‘em.” He handed Amanda a couple of towels and the T-shirt. “Come this way, you can change in my office.”

  She tugged on his hand. “No I can’t.”

  Dane gave her a questioning look. “Why not?”

  “Because you promised me fireworks. Shouldn’t they be starting soon?”

  Dane raised his eyebrows, a wordless salute to his big mouth. There were plenty of fireworks in this underground hallway, she just didn’t know it. Clearly, she had no idea what the sight of her was doing to him.

  He couldn’t take her and her wet shirt back to the dugout. There were still too many people milling around and they’d get more of the well-respected professor than they’d bargained for. Dane thought for a minute, then grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

  They sprinted through the back of the underground area and navigated up three flights of stairs designated only for those working at the ballpark.

  “This is where the media and broadcast rooms are.” Dane pointed at the metal double doors leading to the third floor. “One more to go.”

  Dane opened the door at the top of the stairs. “Ok, go out there and step to your right. It’s narrow, so be careful.”

  The moon sparkled out over the water. Beaten down by the summer heat, the waves barely stirred and the surface was almost flat, except for gentle rolls here and there.

  “Where are we?” Amanda’s voice was breathless.

  “This is where the guys come to raise the flags at the top of the ballpark façade.” He pointed behind where they were standing, to a set of tall poles.

  “It’s amazing. You can see the whole campus from here—and all the way down Gulfview Boulevard. She craned her head toward the end of the island. “Wow, you can even see the lighthouse.”

  Suddenly, a sound like giant popcorn came from the behind the wall of the ball
park.

  “And fireworks,” said Dane. “You can definitely see the fireworks.”

  The multi-colored sparks began to fly upward and burst into patterns, but Dane had no interest in them. He only had eyes for Amanda.

  “Aren’t you going to watch?”

  “I’ve seen them before.”

  The corner of her mouth snuck upward. “Well, you’ve seen me before, too.”

  Dane turned toward her and placed a hand on each of Amanda’s shoulders. “Not like this.” The golden glow from the fireworks lit her face with sparkles and light.

  There was no going back now.

  He leaned down and put his lips squarely on top of hers. The controlled explosions weren’t just breaking and lighting the sky around them. The fireworks were here, on this parapet, in this first kiss.

  She tasted like salty snacks and sugary orange. Dane noted the contrast—so like Amanda. Sweet, yet stubborn. Helpful, yet determined.

  Suddenly, he lost himself in the kiss and realized it wasn’t a contradiction. It was the sweetest moment in the hottest summer night.

  Amanda was home and faith and learning and understanding.

  She was everything he’d been looking for, all wrapped up in one. He kept his eyes close, not caring that he was missing the display of light and sparkle all around him.

  And when Amanda slid her arm around the back of his neck, his heartbeat pulsed and popped in time with the aerial display. He’d been celebrating victories at ballparks since he was four years old.

  But never until now had Dane realized he’d slid home without ever touching the base.

  He deepened the kiss, and in doing so, deepened the awareness of the pull Amanda had on his heart. As the fireworks boomed to their crescendo, Dane knew the moment would soon come to an end. Reluctantly, he pulled away and felt the summer sea breeze twist between their still-soaked shirts.

  Amanda’s arms still lay atop his shoulders. He searched her eyes, seeing the last of the fireworks reflected back at him.

  “You did say you had the key to the fireworks,” she said, with a soft smile that sent melted fire through his veins all over again.

  FIRST KISS FIREWORKS

  Chapter Six

  Amanda looked wistfully out of the window in her office at the students crossing the campus below. The first summer semester was underway. And yet, for the first time since she’d come to Provident College, none of those students would be hers this term.

  The phone rang, cutting into her pity party.

  “Amanda McGovern,” she said as she answered the line.

  “Hey Amanda, it’s Dane.”

  The full introduction was unnecessary. She knew who it was after the first syllable. She’d spent all weekend at the end of the dugout bench, watching the team’s games. She’d listened to all his interactions with his players, and with Cole, who came out to support his teammates on Saturday night. Cole also made it halfway through the Sunday afternoon game before the bright sunlight took a toll on his vision and triggered a headache.

  And through it all, Dane had been there, offering advice and encouragement—to his kids on the team and to his biological one.

  She tried to be nonchalant as she replied back. She knew he’d tease her if he found out how much time she’d spent turning over every moment of the weekend in her mind.

  Especially that kiss at the top of the ballpark as the moon shone over the water and fireworks danced in the sky around them.

  That kiss had spent a lot of time replaying in her mind and in every nerve and fiber of her body.

  “Hi there. What’s up?” There. That sounded perfect. Friendly, yet nothing out of the ordinary.

  “Cole called this morning on his way to class. He said he brought along the kit of oils you made for him. But he wanted to know if you could meet him at the baseball offices this afternoon instead of at your office.”

  “Sure, whatever’s easiest for him.” It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to be today.

  “I think he wants to hang out with his friends this afternoon. It helps him feel a little less...different...to be able to see them and all, even if he can’t go out and take batting practice or anything like that.”

  “I totally get it.” After a weekend around the team and their infectious spirit and support for each other—and their head coach—Amanda thought that it would probably be good medicine for Cole. “What time?”

  “He said he’d be here about two.” Dane paused a second and mumbled something to someone else. “Sorry, that was my assistant. She needed me to sign something. Anyway, I thought maybe we could have lunch first.”

  Amanda’s heart did a double thump. She’d love nothing more than to see Dane and spend a little more time with him. It would probably be good medicine for her, considering her sad mood as she’d watched the students from afar. But she couldn’t go out to lunch today.

  She’d thought about one or two other things besides Dane and that kiss this weekend, and one of them was her precarious financial situation. She needed to make it through the next ten weeks on her savings, until she was back on the official full payroll in August. That meant no more lunches in the faculty dining room.

  “I’d love to, but I can’t.” The admission made her more depressed than watching the students had. “No full paycheck this summer means I’m going to be brown-bagging it when I’m up here on campus.”

  “Perfect.”

  She hadn’t really expected that kind of enthusiasm over penny-penching.

  “What do you mean, ‘perfect’?”

  “I want to go to the Lighthouse. It’s a perfect day to go get some sunshine and salt breeze. I’ll pick up a sandwich and chips from the cafeteria, then I’ll come pick you up about noon. How about that?”

  She looked at the sack lunch on the table behind her desk. “My peanut-butter-and-jelly will probably taste better on the beach.”

  “I can guarantee it.”

  “You guarantee a lot, Dane Vasquez. First the fireworks, now lunch.”

  Dane’s hearty laugh vibrated through the phone. “I didn’t let you down the first time, did I?”

  “No,” Amanda said, forced to admit the truth. “No, you sure didn’t.”

  The early summer days fell into a routine as they waited on for Cole’s neuropsychological test results to be complied and evaluated. Amanda would tutor students in the morning for extra income. Dane hit the gym at sunrise with his team and then spent the morning watching film and game planning with his assistant coaches. The Provident College Tidal Waves were at the top of the conference standings, and Dane had every intent of keeping it that way so they could get a good seed at the upcoming conference championship tournament.

  These first few weeks of the summer had also made Dane more proud of his son than ever before. Cole attended the two classes he needed to re-take in the morning, then stuck to the plan Amanda had outlined for him. She’d changed his diet to a low-carb, high fat diet to lessen inflammation and feed the brain. She organized the supplements the neurologist wanted him to take. Every afternoon, Amanda and Cole spent an hour together, working on focus and study strategies that would help him without over-taxing his brain. She’d even scheduled nap and rest breaks in his day. Cole took to it all without complaint.

  “I’m just crossing my fingers that this is helping and that the test results give him some hope.” Dane leaned back in the chair behind his desk. Amanda had just popped her head in his office to give him a report after her daily session with Cole in the coaches’ conference room at the end of the hall.

  Amanda raised her hand and twisted two of her fingers together, then two more. “I don’t get it. How does that help anything?”

  “Well, I don’t know.” It was a little silly, now that he watched her mocking him. “But what else am I supposed to do?”

  “Maybe something that works.” She raised her eyebrows.

  “Like what?”

  “Have you ever tried prayer, Dane?”

>   He popped forward in his chair. “Never. Talking out loud to air doesn’t seem any more productive than crossing fingers.”

  She entered the room and walked over to his desk. “Well, that wouldn’t. But talking to the God who created the air and everything it surrounds works miracles.”

  “Amanda, I can’t.” His throat got a little dry just thinking about trying to fulfill her request. “The minute I opened my mouth, God’s gonna know me as the guy who hasn’t been inside a church since age ten. If He’s all over the universe, He doesn’t have time to listen to guys like me. There have to be a million people in line in front of me who are worth his time.”

  Amanda leaned forward and braced her hands on the desk. Dane could smell the hint of flowers and mint on her wrists. “Remember what I told you on the trail that day? He’s your Father and he wants to know what’s on your heart as much as you want to know what’s on Cole’s.”

  Before he could reply, Randy Tompkins, one of Dane’s assistant coaches knocked on the door. “Got a second? Oh, sorry, Dr. McGovern...I didn’t see you there.”

  “That’s okay,” Amanda said as she straightened up. She gave Dane a brief nod of the head to emphasize the point she’d made. “We were just finishing up. Dane’s got some questions he’s got to find the answers to, anyway.”

  She smiled as she walked out of the office, leaving the crisp floral scent behind. Dane breathed it in like an anchor.

  “Well, maybe you can answer my questions too, while you’re at it, Coach.”

  Dane frowned. The scent had faded. “Doubt it, Randy. Tell me something...do you pray?”

  “Pray?”

  “Yeah, like hands folded and eyes closed and all that stuff.”

  “Well, like that...only in church on Sunday. But sure, I talk to God quietly in my head as I’m going along in my day.”

  Dane tilted his head. “You just do that? Doesn’t that seem crazy to you?”

  Randy shrugged. “Well, maybe. But you know, sometimes, God things just aren’t meant to be understood. You just have to have faith and take a swing.”

 

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