Throwing her hands in the air, Mavis said, “Who’s talking about going to a bar? Most of the single deputies come in here just hoping they can get a look at you. Hell, that’s why the sheriff comes in so much!”
Carrie laughed. “Colt comes in because he lives by himself and doesn’t want to fix breakfast or lunch.”
“Are we the only place around here to eat?” BettyJo interjected, lifting a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
Sucking in her lips, she realized there was no way she was going to win this argument. Finally deciding to shut it down, she said, “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But the reality is I’m a waitress who barely finished getting my high school diploma. I also come with a ten-year-old boy who’s never met his father and likely never will because we weren’t good enough for him. I’m not blind…I look in the mirror and know I’ve got the looks that can make a man interested for a night or maybe a little more. But I also know I’m not the kind of woman that most men would want to become involved with. I’m not about to bring a man into Jack’s life who only wants a tiny piece of me and that’s mostly the piece he can get between the sheets. I’m just not the kind of woman they want to take home, not with my baggage.”
“I’m not sure what that says about you, but I think it says you don’t think very much about Colt,” Mavis threw out.
Holding her friend’s gaze, she sighed. “I think it says exactly what I know about Colt. He’s a good guy who has a heavy job, and the last thing he needs is something else hanging around his neck.”
“You see yourself as one more thing Colt would have to worry about when I know a good woman like yourself could make his life better,” Mavis said.
BettyJo added, “Are you sure that you’re not just waiting to see if Colt will make the first move?”
Her heart hurt just a bit. “There’re very few things in life I’m sure about. I know I love my son, and I can’t give him much, but I give him everything I can. I also love my friends. I was lucky eight years ago to land in this job, and I figure I’ll keep serving tables as long as you keep having me around. Other than that, it’s just not the time for something else.”
Mavis placed her hands on the top of the table and pushed herself up. Leaning over, she kissed the top of Carrie’s head.
Tears pricked Carrie’s eyes, but she gave herself a quick shake, holding them back. Crying was something she rarely allowed herself to indulge in. Tears did not seem to help, and it seemed more of a waste than anything else.
BettyJo looked up at the clock on the wall and said, “Well, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.” She called to Jack, who ran over to give her a hug before she walked out of the diner.
Mavis and Joe’s son, Joe Junior, and his wife, Cindy, came in to work the kitchen for the dinner shift. Everyone called out their greetings, and the bell rang over the door once more. Carrie’s mom, Della, came in, greeting Jack with exuberance.
“Jack,” his grandmother said, “tomorrow is your last day of elementary school!”
Standing with the tray of rolled silverware in her arms, Carrie said, “Please, don’t remind me. He’s growing up too fast as it is!”
He puffed out his chest. “I’m going to be eleven years old in a few weeks, Mom. That’s practically a teenager.”
Making big eyes at him, she said, “How did we go from ten years old to suddenly being a teenager? I don’t think so.”
Della ruffled his hair. “Go get your backpack, and I’ll take you home since your mom’s gonna be a little late today.”
They both watched Jack scamper off, and the thought hit Carrie once again how much longer he would scamper instead of trying to walk with a swagger.
Della turned to her. “You okay, baby?”
Smiling, she hugged her mom. “I’m good.”
“Did Colt come in today?”
“Yes, but Mavis and BettyJo have already been after me. It’s the same as every other day. I’m just Carrie, the friendly waitress from Joe’s Place. And he’s Colt, the man everyone looks up to…the one who’s got the weight of the whole county on his shoulders.”
Sighing, her mom nodded, and Carrie knew that she understood. Life did not always turn out the way we thought it would, but you have to get up each day determined to make that day as good as it could be.
Giving Jack a goodbye hug, she stood at the door and watched him and her mother heading out to the car, grinning as Jack talked nonstop. Feeling someone come close, she glanced to the side to see Joe looking out the door as well.
“You got a mighty fine boy there, Carrie,” he said. “You’ve done a good job.”
Wrapping her arms around her waist, she admitted, “I didn’t do it by myself. I couldn’t have done it without Mom and Dad. And God knows, I couldn’t have done it without you, and Mavis, and everyone else around here. Between Dad before he passed away, you, Joe Junior, and recently, the American Legion coaches, Jack’s had some wonderful male role models.”
“That might be true, but you’re the one who put those people in his life. So, I’d say it still comes down to you doing a good job.”
She smiled up at him, loving the fact that she had found her way to his diner when she and her mom first moved to the Eastern Shore eight years ago after her dad died.
An hour later, Ellen hurried through the door, apologizing for being late, and Joe looked over. “Okay, Carrie, you head on home now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Driving home, she headed south toward Baytown but turned onto a little street before getting into town. It was not a neighborhood but had several houses and duplexes spread out before the road wound its way back to the highway. She was proud of her duplex, being able to afford the rent although the owner did not do a lot of the maintenance.
Parking out front, she pulled next to her mother’s car. Walking in the front door, she called out, “I’m home!”
Her mom came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “I’ve got some beef stew started in your crockpot. Jack is out in the yard practicing his baseball pitches.”
“Do you want to stay for dinner, Mom?”
“Sure, sweetie. I’d love to. By the way, do you need me to get Jack tomorrow?”
Shaking her head, Carrie said, “It’s the last day of school so I’ll have the bus drop him off at the diner again, and I promised him that Joe would make him a famous ice cream sundae. I only have the breakfast and lunch shift tomorrow so he can hang with me and then we’ll come home.”
She walked through her narrow living room, which took up the entire front of her house, down the short hall to the eat-in kitchen. The duplex was not large, the downstairs consisting of the living room, eat-in kitchen that held a stacked washer and dryer behind louvered doors in a closet, and a small half bathroom underneath the stairs leading to the second floor.
The owner had renovated the duplex years ago, but it was hardly top-of-the-line. The countertops were a cheap composite, but the color was dark green, and she liked that. The appliances were black, certainly not stainless, but Carrie could not have cared less, just thrilled that there was a dishwasher.
The kitchen was U-shaped, opening to space for the table and chairs that were next to the sliding glass door overlooking the back patio.
She walked to the counter, lifted the lid on the crockpot and sniffed appreciatively, stirring it before turning the heat down. She heard the whack of the baseball hitting the cinderblock wall that ran along the back of their small yard, and she walked to the sliding glass door. Peering out, she smiled as Jack picked up the baseball and threw it toward the wall. He had hit another growth spurt, and she realized she would need to buy him more clothes soon.
Ever since she had taken him to the first American Legion baseball practice, her son had been hooked. She had met most of the coaches, knowing many of them lived and worked in Baytown, and would occasionally see them come into Joe’s Place. Sometimes her mom would take him to the practices when she had to work, but she tried no
t to miss any of his games. But then, she and Jack needed to eat and have a place to live, so she did not ask for much time off. Even when there was a game on Saturday mornings, she could come in early to the diner, getting there about six o’clock in the morning, and still make it to the game by ten o’clock. As soon as the game was over, she headed back to Joe’s Place in time to work the lunch crowd.
Tapping on the glass, she captured Jack’s attention, and he grinned widely as he waved at her. She watched as he picked up the ball and headed toward the house. She turned to see her mother setting the bowls on the table and said, “I’m going to check to see if George wants to eat with us.”
She kissed the top of Jack's head as he came in. “Wash up and then help Grandma set the table. I’m gonna run next door to see if George wants to eat with us.”
Jack grinned and nodded. “Cool! I hope he does. I’m getting to the age where I feel like I need another man around to balance out you and grandma.”
“Lord, save me!" she said, watching her son grin and her mother roll her eyes. She moved through her living room, out onto the front porch, to the door leading to the other duplex. Knocking loudly, she called out, “George! It’s Carrie!"
It took a moment, but she could hear the lock being flipped before the door swung open, and her gaze landed on the older man standing there. His white hair was wispy about his head, but his blue eyes twinkled, and his smile widened. “Hey, Carrie darlin’.” He unlatched the screen door.
“Mom is over, and we’re having stew tonight. We’ve got plenty and wanted to know if you’d like to come to eat with us.”
She could have sworn his eyes brightened as he exclaimed, “Now, isn’t that nice of you. I’d love to come.”
He stepped out onto the porch, pulling his front door closed behind them. Sticking his hand in his pocket, he pulled out his key ring, locking the front door along with the deadbolt. Shoving his keys back into his pocket, he followed her across the front porch and into her house.
“George!” Jack yelled from the kitchen before running down the hall to greet their neighbor.
George patted Jack affectionately. “I saw you out there pitching that ball, boy. I think you’re getting better and better.”
Grinning, Jack puffed out his chest. “At our last practice, Coach Hudson said he’d help me this summer with my pitching.”
Carrie startled, giving her son her full attention, glad to hear that Colt was encouraging Jack. “You never told me that.”
“He said I was really good. He said I was the best pitcher that we had at my level. He even suggested that I could improve if I had a pitching net.”
She had no idea what a pitching net was or how much it would cost but pinched her lips in frustration that Colt would have said that to Jack without checking with her first.
“Stew’s on,” her mother called out, and Carrie recognized the attempt to wade in and keep the peace. Before she had a chance to say anything else, her mother had greeted George and began dishing out the stew into bowls before getting the biscuits.
Seeing her son’s excited face, Carrie figured she would get on the computer tonight and look up pitching nets. She had not decided what to get Jack for his birthday anyway, so, hopefully, a pitching net would fit into her budget.
Soon the four of them were laughing and talking, enjoying each other’s company. George was like the grandfather she never knew, and she loved that she could give Jack a chance to have four generations at the table.
Jack regaled them with tales of his last days in elementary school, his plans for becoming the king of baseball during the summer months, and how much he looked forward to starting middle school in the fall. “I know kids can be jerks, but I’m not scared about middle school. I’ve got lots of friends that will be there, and I plan on being on the baseball team as well.”
George seemed to come alive as he told of some of the baseball games he had been to in his younger years. "I remember watching Brooks Robinson play for the Baltimore Orioles in nineteen fifty-nine. He was nicknamed The Human Vacuum Cleaner.”
Jack, eyes wide, breathed, “You are kidding! Why?”
“He was considered one of the greatest defensive third basemen in major league history,” George said. “He won sixteen consecutive Gold Glove Awards. The other thing that was special about him was that he played his entire twenty-three-year major league career for the Baltimore Orioles. That still stands as the record for the longest career spent with a single team in major league history."
Carrie enjoyed seeing the awe and excitement on her son’s face. As soon as the dinner was over, George gave her a hug, thanked Della, patted Jack on the back, and headed over to his side of the duplex. After helping her wash dishes, her mom said goodbye to Jack before grabbing her purse by the front door and offering a hug to Carrie.
Reveling in the embrace, Carrie knew that besides Jack’s hugs, the arms of her mom around her were the next best feeling in the world.
That night, as she went into Jack’s room to say good night, knowing he was too old to be tucked in, she sat on the edge of his bed. He had a few baseball posters that he had bought at the dollar store and thumbtacked to his walls. The only furniture in his room was his bed and dresser, but she had decorated with a thick, navy rug on the wooden floor and a comforter with stripes of navy and light blue. He told her that he liked the room because it had guy colors. Looking over at him, she asked, “Are you really cool about tomorrow being the last day of elementary school?”
Jack was often exuberant, but ever since he had been a small child, she would watch him carefully consider certain things. And right now was one of those times. He drew his knees up and clasped his arms around his legs, resting his chin on his knees. “Yeah, I really am. My teachers in elementary school have been good, but I’m ready to learn more. I’m ready to have a science teacher who really knows science and an English teacher who let us get into stories. And I’m ready for pre-algebra next year.”
It was hard for her to believe that he was growing up so fast. She was so glad that Jack enjoyed school and learning, wanting him to have the opportunities in life that she had not had. Looking at her son, she knew there was no way she would have traded him for any college experience, but nonetheless, wanted him to be able to do anything he chose to do.
“Grandma asked me what I wanted for my birthday,” he said, drawing her attention away from thinking about her son in college.
“What did you say?”
His forehead crinkled. “I told her I’d think about it. Hearing George talk tonight, I was wondering…"
He hesitated, and she prodded, “Wondering what?
“Well, how much do you think tickets for the Baltimore Orioles would be?"
Carrie hoped her poker face was holding because she was afraid that tickets for a professional baseball game would be far out of their means, and she hated that. She hated that no matter how many hours she worked, she still had to pinch pennies to make their budget each month. She hated that no matter how much her mother loved watching Jack, her mother had always done it for free, allowing Carrie to save on childcare. Staring into Jack’s eyes, she maintained the honesty that she always told him she would give him.
“I don’t know how much those tickets cost, baby, but they would probably be more than what your grandma could afford to get you for your birthday."
He nodded, his expression still serious. “If I get any money for my birthday, we can see if there’s enough to buy two tickets. I’d really like to take George to a Baltimore Orioles game.”
For a woman who swore she did not like to cry, she felt the tears hit her eyes for the second time that day. Not caring if Jack felt like he was too old for hugs, she threw her arms around him and pulled him in tight.
“Have I told you lately that I think you’re a phenomenal kid?”
He looked up and grinned. “Not today, but you’re more than welcome to let me know now.”
Throwing her head back in laughte
r, she said, “Okay, fine. You’re a phenomenal kid.”
He laughed along with her, then slid under the covers. She bent and kissed the top of his head. “Starting tomorrow, when I kiss you good night, I’ll be kissing a middle schooler. I can’t believe it.” His grin warmed her heart as she walked out of the room, turning off the light.
There were only the two bedrooms and one bathroom upstairs. She walked across the hall to her bedroom, which was definitely decorated in girl colors of peach and green, and soon got ready for bed. She read until her eyes were tired, and, knowing they had to get up early the next morning, she flipped off the lamp by her bed and slid under the covers.
As she lay caught between awake and asleep, her mind drifted as it always did to Colt. Sighing, she rolled over and closed her eyes. Some dreams, she knew, would not come true.
4
Colt pulled into his driveway, looking up at his house as he approached. It was a few miles outside of Easton, close to Baytown, and had belonged to his grandparents. The property contained a large, two-story brick house with several acres of land around it. He remembered playing in the wide yard when he was a child, and the house was often a refuge from his own home.
He drove into the garage, pressed the button to close the garage door behind him, then alighted from his SUV. Entering his house, he walked through a tiled room that his grandmother always referred to as the sunroom because of its floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides, letting in a flood of light. His grandmother used to keep a small table and chairs in the room, often serving breakfast here instead of the dining room. There had been a small settee and matching chair in one corner, where she would knit or read. His grandfather did not spend a lot of time in this room, using it as a path to get from the garage to the kitchen, but it was a particular favorite room of his grandmother’s. Now, it sat empty.
As he walked into the kitchen, he tossed his keys onto the counter, moved to the refrigerator, and pulled out a beer. He popped the top off, tossed it into the trash, and leaned his hip against the U-shaped counter. The kitchen was large, with lots of cabinets and counter space, which for him was wasted. Many of the cabinets were empty, and the counter only held a coffee maker, a toaster, and a microwave. He could cook but hated to for just one person. But if he ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner at Joe’s Place, he might as well turn his paycheck over to Joe.
Our Time (Baytown Boys Book 11) Page 3