“Yep, you win. Are you and Robbie looking to move back? Is that why you called me at work?”
“I wish, but no. I called you at work because I was hoping you wouldn’t be in and I wouldn’t have to have this conversation with you.”
Color me confused. “Okay . . . ”
She sighs heavily. “We’ve always been close, at least we were until we moved away, but you’re still my best friend and it pains me to ask you this because it’s so out of character—”
“And you accuse me of rambling. Just spit it out, Adrienne.” I’m annoyed with this beat around the bush tactic. Clearly, something is bothering her, and I have a feeling it’s Brett Larsen.
“Why are you propositioning Brett for sex, Bellamy?”
My mouth drops open and I swear my head is about to explode. “Wh-what?”
“I’m torn here, Bell. You’re my friend, but so is Annie. Brett tells Robbie everything and Annie, she calls here crying. I am a sitting duck here.”
“Um . . .” it takes me a very long minute or two to compose my thoughts. When I picture Brett sitting across from me at dinner, I’m murderous. He’s a scumbag and now he’s dragging my name through the mud. “Adrienne, I’m only going to say this once and it’s your choice on whether to believe me or not. Brett Larsen told me that if I slept with him, he’d put Chase on his baseball team, and when I refused, he said I’d pay for it. This was literally a few days ago and just yesterday he tried to have me fired from my job because I went to the youth center to try and find some way to help Chase play baseball as that’s all my son wants to do.” I pause and fight back the threatening tears. “I know your husband is close to Brett, but the fact that you’ve even called to ask, thinking that I would stoop so slow as to sell my body in such a way . . . I thought you knew me better.”
“It’s just—”
“It’s just nothing, Adrienne. You know me and you know I’m not that type of person. My husband cheated on me, destroyed my marriage and hurt my son. Do you really think I would do that to another woman? To another child?”
“No, but—”
“There are no ‘buts’ here. Like I said, you believe whatever you want. But if it helps you sleep a little better tonight, you can tell your husband that I wouldn’t save Brett Larsen if he were on fire and I had the only water in town. He’s a pig and, frankly, you might want to think about what kind of guy Robbie is spending his time with when he and Brett are off on their golf trips. Don’t call me again unless you’re going to apologize.” I hang up the phone and cover my face with my hands. My tears are hot, fast and steaming down my face.
“Oh, Bell. Everything is going to be okay,” Karter says as she pulls me into her arms. I don’t know how much she’s heard or how long she’s been standing there, but I need the comfort from her. “He’ll get what’s coming to him soon enough.”
“Some stupid land sale isn’t going to hurt Brett Larsen.” I’m a blubbering mess and I know my words sound like I’m speaking through a bubble.
“Nope, but karma is a bitch and I believe in her. He’ll get his.”
“Before or after my demise?”
Karter pulls me from my chair and into the bathroom. She doesn’t allow me to look in the mirror, for which I thankful, but she helps me clean up my face and does so with a genuine smile. “No pity parties allowed. You’re about to have dinner with a very handsome man, who by all accounts is interested in you. And even if you don’t feel the same way about him, ride this wave my friend. Let him dote on you until he has to leave.”
“I’m not going to lead him on or use him.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. Get to know Hawk, be his friend. Enjoy his company. Don’t jump into bed with him or drop down on your knees to give him a blowie.” Karter laughs.
“Oh, God.”
“I’m serious.”
“I assure you; I won’t be on my knees nor getting horizontal with him.”
“Okay, but if you do, I need all the details.”
I know she’s serious, but regardless she’s made me smile and that was her plan the whole time. She helps me clean up and fixes my make-up, so I don’t look like a zombie.
“There, now tell me the truth. Did you put in a little extra time because you knew you were seeing Hawk today?” she asks from behind me as she fixes my hair.
I look at her through the mirror and sigh. “Yes, but I know deep down this doesn’t turn out good for me so I’m going to proceed with caution. Be his friend and all that.”
Karter smiles knowingly. “Just as long as you proceed.”
With that statement, she ushers me out of the bathroom and pretty much out of the office. She stands in the doorway, waving as if she’s my mother and I’m off to follow my dreams instead of going home to have dinner with a man I barely know.
I arrive home just as Chase’s bus pulls up. He’s smiling when he gets off and turns to wave goodbye to his new friends. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, bud. How was school?”
Normally, I brace myself for bad, but I have a feeling today was a good day for him. “It was so cool. Nolan and I played catch during recess and we sat together at lunch.”
Deep down, I know Hawk had something to do with this. “That’s great! You know, Hawk’s coming for dinner. I didn’t know if you wanted to stay or go to Grandma’s?” Hawk and I never discussed where Chase would be, and I think that’s because Hawk expects Chase to be here.
“I think I’ll stay, but when it’s time for you to get cozy, I’ll go to my room.”
I stop midway through the garage and stare at my son. He opens the door to the kitchen and looks at me. “What? Nolan said his uncle likes you and I can see it too.” He shrugs and walks inside. “Come on, Mom,” he yells. “We’re not heating the outside.”
I’m stunned by what Chase has said, but then again, maybe I shouldn’t be. He’s clearly taken to Hawk, likely because he paid attention to him when his own father couldn’t be bothered. Ugh, that reminds me I have to tell Chase that we’re going for a long, stupid drive this weekend. That can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going to let my son have fun with his new favorite person.
While Chase works on his homework, I open a bottle of wine to give me a little bit of confidence. This newfound courage has me sending Hawk a text, telling him that if he’s in the neighborhood to feel free to stop by early. I do this because I know Chase wants to spend some time with him and I want to see my son happy.
No sooner do I start wrapping the potatoes to put into the oven, our doorbell rings. Chase is out of his seat and to the front door before I can even suggest he wait for me. I don’t want to seem eager, so I continue my task, close the oven door and wipe my hands off on the towel. I don’t straighten my hair or clothes and when I turn to leave my kitchen, Hawk is standing there, leaning against the wall with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, my son next to him with a beaming smile across his face. Any thoughts I had about not letting this guy in are slowly washing away. One day . . . that’s all it’s taken for me to easily see myself falling for this man, knowing full well that he’s leaving and we lead two vastly different lives.
Nineteen
Hawk
Cooking has always been my thing. When any of the guys have get togethers, the girlfriends and wives usually gather in the kitchen while the men hang out by the grill, and for whatever reason I always find myself with a set of tongs in my hand, making sure the meat is grilled to everyone’s liking. But this dinner with Bellamy and Chase is different. It feels special and somehow more important that these steaks are cooked perfectly. Sort of how this night is going so far, effortlessly, in my opinion.
When Bellamy texted and said I could come over early, I took advantage of the offer, mostly because I wanted to spend time with her in her own setting, to see if my desire to get to know her is real or if I was caught up with the idea of meeting someone new. One look at her tonight, walking out of her kitchen, and I knew. She’s someone I want to spend
as much time with as possible.
Even though the outside temperature isn’t ideal for grilling, Bellamy left the sliding glass door open and I want to think it’s because she’s trying to include me in what’s going on inside the dining room. Chase is laughing and each time he does, Bellamy lights up like it’s the best sound in the world. My mother has always said there’s no greater joy in the world than your own children, and while I can’t agree because I don’t have any, I can see the happiness that Chase brings his mother.
He walks over to the door and smiles at me. “Mom wants to know if you need anything.” I glance at the small window where I can see his mother’s shadow and wonder why she didn’t come ask me herself and chuckle. Bellamy’s trying to play hard to get and it’s cute. Not that I’m trying to get her into bed or anything, but I do want to get to know her a lot better. Her son too. As I open my mouth to tell Chase what I want, his mother appears behind him and dammit if my heart doesn’t skip a beat or two when she smiles at me.
“I took the potatoes out. I normally slice ours open, throw a chunk of butter in there and wrap them back up for a minute.”
“A chunk?”
She shrugs. “I might overdo it a little bit on the butter.”
“It sounds perfect.”
Bellamy and I maintain eye contact, at least until I wink at her, which causes her to blush. Who knew flirting could be so fun? Chase interrupts my gawking when he comes and stands next to me. On instinct, I put my hand in front of Chase to keep him from the grill.
“Can I help?”
“You can if you promise to be careful. The grill is very hot, and you could get burnt if you’re not paying attention.”
“I promise.” I don’t want to tell him I don’t need his help because he seems excited to be out here, but I’m also one-handed and if his hand were to slip, he’d likely hurt himself. I hand him the tongs anyway and move closer to him in case I need to intervene. Chase grips the metal with both hands and places the tongs around one of the steaks.
“Be gentle but you have to grip firmly,” I tell him. He does as I say, his tiny muscles straining in his arms as he flips the slab of meat over.
I crouch down so we’re eye level and tell him, “Perfect.”
“My dad never cooked,” he says, never breaking eye contact. “He never did anything with me except yell and tell me I have to try harder.”
“I’m sure he was stressed from work.” I don’t know what else to say. All I know is that he’s an absent father and Bellamy is doing her best to fill both roles. However, even as I make this excuse for a man I don’t know, I somehow feel like I’m lying to this boy that I’ve only known for a day.
“I hate him,” Chase whispers. He throws the tongs down and runs off into the yard. I don’t know if I should follow, but something tells me I should. I take the steaks off the grill, hoping they’ve cooked through enough, set them on the plate and shut everything down. Inside, I place the platter on the table and without saying another word, I’m back outside and wandering through the Patrick’s backyard, struggling to see due to the setting sun. Thankfully, the wooden planks nailed into the tree gives me a good starting spot to seek him out. Of course, being limited to one arm makes it near impossible for me to climb up.
Pressing my back up against the tree, I start talking, hoping like hell he can hear me and that he’s actually up there. “When I was your age, my dad wanted me herding cattle and mucking stalls in my spare time and the only thing I wanted to do was throw a baseball. I don’t remember when I decided I wanted to be a pitcher but I remember the day clearly when my father whooped my butt for painting a strike zone on the back of the barn. He wasn’t mad because I painted the barn but because I was throwing my baseball at it and scaring the horses. After that, he helped me build a field in one of our pastures and my friends and I used to play there all the time. We even had a mini scoreboard and my mom would make snacks for everyone. But still, my dad wanted me to be a rancher because it was all he knew. My grandfather and great grandfather were ranchers so it’s in our blood, at least it’s supposed to be.” I pause and look up at the treehouse. Man, I would’ve loved to have a treehouse when I was his age. A place to escape and pretend nothing else matters in the world. I suppose I had that with my field, but it wasn’t private.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that dads aren’t always what we want . . . or need . . . them to be. I love my dad but know deep down he wishes I lived here and worked on the ranch, and sometimes that hurts. Living in Boston is lonely at times and I wish my parents were there. I also know that being a dad can be hard when your kids don’t live with you. My friend, Branch, has a son that he doesn’t get to see all the time, while my friend, Cooper, has twins and he carries them both in his arms. Not sure how he does that though. I’m sorry your dad isn’t around, Chase. I really am. I know I’m only here for a short time, but I’d really like it if I could teach you everything I know about baseball.” I have no idea where the last line comes from but since seeing Coach Farmer, witnessing the way things are being run with the Little League program, and playing with the boys yesterday, apparently my subconscious is telling me I need to coach or at least get the band of misfits together to have some fun.
I’m about to give up and go back inside to admit defeat when I hear rustling above me. Chase climbs down and I pretend like I can’t hear him. I’m staring off into the settling darkness when he bumps into my side. “My dad has a new family.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Your mom told me.”
“It sucks.”
“I bet. I know I’m not your dad, but I’d love to be your friend.”
“But you’re leaving soon.”
I sigh and nod. “I am, gotta job to do, ya know. The Renegades want to win the pennant but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. You can call me when I’m in Boston and even come visit if your mom allows it. Maybe you could come with Nolan when he comes to see me over the summer.”
That puts a smile on his face. “That would be so cool! Could we go on the field?”
“Of course. You can even run the bases, take batting practice, do whatever you want.”
“Hey,” Bellamy’s voice cuts us off.
“Hey,” I say back. She’s standing a few feet away from us. I didn’t even hear her approach and I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. “We were just having a man to man talk.”
“Oh,” she sounds surprised. “Well, dinner is ready and it’s getting cold.”
“What do you say we go in and have dinner with your mom?” I ask Chase as I set my hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah, I think she’d like that.”
Me too.
After dinner, which was filled with so much laughter the three of us snorted more than once, and after Chase has showered and gone to bed, Bellamy and I find ourselves sitting on the couch. She’s drinking wine and I’m . . . well, I’m holding the glass wondering how the hell I’m going to drink this politely without it being obvious how much of a non-wine drinker I am?
“You know,” she says. “You told me to make sure I had wine here.”
“Look, I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t date much, and figured wine was the right thing to say . . . but I’ve never really drank wine. I’m more of a beer or liquor type guy.”
“I have some beer; do you want one?”
“Yes, please.” I don’t mean to sound eager, but I hand her my wine glass so fast the liquid sloshes dangerously around the sides, threatening to spill. She laughs as she takes the glass and is back in a flash with a bottle of beer for me.
“It’s a local IPA.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
She sits back down and curls her legs under her. “I want to thank you for what you said to Chase earlier. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation. I couldn’t find either of you and when I heard you out there talking, I stopped and listened.”
“I like your son a lot. He’s a good boy.”
&
nbsp; “Thank you.”
I like his mom, too.
“The day before we met, I was at the fields. They were empty because all the kids were in school, but I stood there and imagined the sound of the ball hitting the bat, the parents cheering, and a line of siblings at the concession stand. I couldn’t wait to show up at a practice or game. But then, I went and saw David Farmer, my vision changed, and was later crushed when I took my nephew back to the ballpark. David wants me to coach and believe me, as much as I love the game of baseball, coaching little kids is not something I ever thought I’d do. After meeting Chase and the other boys and finding out that Nolan wasn’t even allowed to try-out because of me, I can’t stand by and let this happen — not on the fields that I built for kids like your son.”
“What are you saying, Hawk?”
“I’m going to coach, or at least get them started. I’ll need to find an assistant, but I’m not going to let those boys stand at the fence and watch anymore.”
“My boss will do it. I’ll make him.”
Our eyes meet and I have every intention of telling her thank you, but she launches herself into my arms. I grimace with pain when she crashes into my arm. There’s a look of pure horror on her face when she realizes what she’s done.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” She rights herself and I immediately wish she were still pressed against me, despite the burning sensation in my shoulder. “Are you hurt? Do you need anything? I can’t believe I did that. I was just so excited that my emotions took over because I’ve tried, I’ve tried so hard to be a good mom to Chase and do what’s right. The camps, clinics and extra practices with Brett, they’ve all been for nothing and you have no idea how happy you’re going to make Chase.”
“What about you? Are you happy? Are you ready to be a baseball mom?”
She nods frantically. “I want that more than anything. To see my son out there having fun. I want to cheer until my throat is raw and clap until my hands hurt. I don’t care if you guys win a game, being part of a team is all he wants, and you’re going to give that to him. I could just kiss . . .” she stops talking and darts her eyes toward the floor. She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.
Hawk: The Boys of Summer #4 Page 13