Balk (Home Stand #2)

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Balk (Home Stand #2) Page 2

by Lacy Hart


  “I think I have the best shot, thanks to you,” Izzy replied, taking off her plaid ski cap and shaking out her long hair that Kristin dyed red for her last night after Wes went to bed.

  “You better, or your father is going to kill both of us for that hair dye in the bathroom.”

  “The only other girl who has a shot is Allison Marx, and she has black hair. I think the red hair will put me over the top.” Izzy pulled down the passenger-side visor and glanced in the small mirror, smiling as she gazed at her red locks.

  Once the rear window was clear, Kristin started the trek down the winding driveway, making sure to carefully go over the snow-ice combination that resided. She glided past Wes’ parents’ house, seeing the living room light on since Wyatt was likely up having his coffee and getting ready to head down to the stables.

  Kristin eased out onto Route 5 and made her way towards Chandler High School, which was just a few minutes away. Izzy already plugged her iPod in and sang along with “Part of Your World,” emoting as best she could with each line. Kristin had been impressed the first time she heard Izzy start to sing around the house, but Izzy had clearly gotten even better over the weeks as she prepared for auditions. Kristin found herself joining in, singing with Izzy as loud as she could, even though she knew she was a bit off-key. When the song ended, the two looked at each other and laughed.

  When they reached the school, Izzy practically had the car door opened before the Jeep even came to a full stop. Other cars dropped off students for auditions or early classes, and students hustled into the school to avoid the early morning biting wind that kicked up.

  “Hey!” Kristin yelled to Izzy as the teenager stepped out of the car, grabbing her backpack off the floor. Izzy looked up abruptly to see what was wrong.

  “Good luck in there,” Kristin said with a smile. “I know you can do it.”

  Izzy leaned back in the car and gave Kristin a big hug.

  “Thanks, Kris… for everything.” Izzy gave Kristin a quick peck on the cheek and dashed out of the car towards the front doors of the school. Kristin watched as Izzy entered before she pulled away and headed back towards the center of Chandler so she could get to the library.

  The entire ride in (all five minutes of it), Kristin thought about how far her relationship with Izzy came in just a year. When she first met Izzy at Izzy’s grandparents’ house when she delivered a book for Izzy to read to her grandmother, Kristin was simply Ms. Arthur, the town librarian. Over a short time, when her relationship with Wes Martin began, Izzy turned initially resentful. The two became much closer over the year, and now Kristin felt that they were not only close friends but more like sisters. Kristin turned out to be the female presence in Izzy’s life that Izzy missed, and the two bonded over everything, sometimes to the dismay of Wes as he navigated the world of a teenage girl.

  Kristin pulled into her usual parking spot at the library and moved to the front doors as fast as she could to unlock them. It was much earlier than when the library opened to the public, but the early morning quiet never became lost on her. She loved to enter the library, settle down, organize, and plan out the day without any interruptions on the phone or by visitors to the library. Mornings like this gave her a chance to gather her thoughts, and Kristin often got her best ideas on days like this.

  She made a lot of progress in the year or so as the head librarian, introducing new community programs, getting guest speakers, updating the computers and lending system, and even getting the library board to agree to some expansion to help the facility grow. It meant a lot of time and effort, some begging and pleading for donors, and hours doing book sales, tricky trays, raffles, and all kinds of other fundraisers, but Kristin made it happen and never felt prouder of herself.

  The lights in the library came to a glow when Kristin flipped the switch, and she moved right to the thermostat to turn the heat up slightly to take the chill out of the room before people arrived in a few hours. Kristin then walked to her office, dropped her leather bag next to her desk, and turned her computer on. She sat back and watched as it came to life, signed in and then spied the wallpaper of the picture of Wes and herself seated at the picnic table down by the pond on the farm, the site of one of their first dates.

  Kristin switched out of her winter boots and into her low heels and then hung up her coat on the coat rack in the corner. The weather proved to be far too cold lately for skirts and dresses, so she opted for a sensible black pair of slacks today and one of her favorite sweaters, light green with a V-neck that complemented both her eyes and her figure. Kristin sat at her desk and clicked open her email, just browsing through to see if anything required an immediate answer. A few speaker confirmations and book requests and questions appeared, but beyond that, nothing that couldn’t wait or be deleted.

  Kristin scanned the latest local and national news as she took time for herself. She noticed a small blurb in the news section about today being the first day of spring training for the Pirates. Kristin had become a baseball fan, by association at first since it was Wes’ livelihood and passion, but now she found herself with an avid interest in the game. However, she forgot about spring training starting already. Worry crossed her mind as she thought about how Wes might handle it.

  Kristin always felt that part of Wes sorely missed playing baseball. It clearly fulfilled his life, and even though Wes insisted that he gave it up because he was ready to get on with the next portion of his life, Kristin harbored a bit of a guilty feeling that he walked away after an explosive few games with a new team just to come back and be with her. Kristin loved Wes with all her heart and was ecstatic that he was there for her, but she also didn’t want him to live with any regrets. She mentioned that to Wes a few times throughout last season, especially when a few teams came calling with hopes to coax Wes out of retirement for the stretch run towards the playoffs. She was shocked when he turned down a lucrative offer from the Red Sox, who hunted for a DH, but Wes said no right away. They watched the Red Sox together as Boston team won the World Series again, and Kristin asked Wes regarding any second thoughts about turning the team down when he could have won a World Series ring.

  “Not even for a minute,” he told her with a big smile as he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately.

  Kristin occupied herself with chores around the library for the two hours before her associate and closest friend, Karen Manning, would come in for work. Kristin made a pot of coffee, checked in the books that dropped in the depository overnight, organized items on the shelf, and even cleaned up the kids’ play area, cleaning the tables and vacuuming the rug there. By the time Karen walked through the door at 8:30, the place sparkled, and the aroma of coffee permeated the entire library.

  “Someone had too much time this morning,” Karen said as she took off her coat and hung it on the coat rack.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Kristin said with a smile, handing Karen a cup filled with the Costa Rican blend Kristin brewed this morning. Karen inhaled the scent hovering over the mug and smiled.

  “Hmmm, come to Mama,” she quipped as she sipped. “What got into you this morning?” Karen asked.

  “Izzy had to be at school early for auditions, so I took her in and came right here. I hope everything went well for her. I thought she would have texted me right away about it.”

  “I’m sure she’ll let you know,” Karen reassured her. “You are such a worrying mother now.”

  “I am not,” Kristin said defensively. “I’m not her mother, Karen, and I try not to pretend to be or think of myself that way. I think we’re more like good friends.”

  “Be honest, Kris,” Karen sat on her stool at the main desk. “You have never thought about what it would be like if you and Wes got married and you become her stepmom? Marriage has never crossed your mind?”

  Kristin stared back at Karen, frozen. Marrying Wes crossed her mind, but it was not something she and Wes even discussed at this point. It had been almost a year since they were
together, and as close as they were, Kristin did not want to feel like she pressured Wes into anything. She was still young, only twenty-three now, but she didn’t imagine a future where Wes and Izzy weren’t a part of it.

  “Of course it’s crossed my mind,” Kristin told Karen as Kristin paced the floor a bit and looked for the right words to say. “Everybody thinks about marriage when they are in a long-term relationship, but it isn’t something we talked about at all.”

  “You gave up your apartment to live with him, Kris. You do everything together; you love and help take care of his daughter and family; it’s almost like you are married already. I’m just surprised you haven’t talked about it is all.”

  “Well, what about you and Brian?” Kristin said to her, hoping to divert some of the pressure and focus. “Have you two talked about marriage? You’ve dated just as long as Wes and me.”

  “As a matter of fact, we have,” Karen said with a big grin, as she held out her left hand and wiggled her fingers so that the engagement ring on her hand sparkled in the light.

  Kristin gasped as she moved towards Karen, who had jumped out of her chair to meet Kristin.

  “Karen, that’s unbelievable!” Kristin shouted. Kristin took Karen’s hand and held it up so she could get a closer look at the princess cut diamond she sported on her ring finger. “When did he ask you? And why didn’t you call me right after?”

  “It happened last night,” Karen proudly stated. “We sat in his apartment watching a movie, and he called his dog Rascal over to come to sit with us. Rascal sat next to me and had this little box tied in a ribbon around his collar, and the ring was in there. It was adorable. Then Brian got down on one knee and proposed. I would have called you right after but… we… we were a little busy,” Karen added with a salacious grin.

  “Okay, I forgive you for not calling,” Kristin said as she embraced Karen. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you. Have you thought about when the wedding will be?”

  “Brian wants to get married sooner rather than later,” Karen added excitedly. “I think he’s worried I’ll change my mind,” she laughed. “We were talking about some time in the spring if we can pull it together.”

  “The spring?” Kristin said, shocked. “That only gives you a couple of months to plan everything.”

  “I know.” Karen walked back over to her stool, sat down, and picked up her coffee mug. “I guess I can start right now by asking you to be my maid of honor.”

  Karen beamed over her coffee mug and watched as Kristin broke out in a smile.

  “Of course, I will,” Kristin told her.

  “Thank God, because I don’t know anyone who is as organized as you and can help me get all this arranged.”

  A hard rap on the front door caught their attention, and Kristin glanced down at her watch and saw it was a bit after nine, past opening time. She hustled over to the front door to unlock it and let in Mrs. Pauling, an older woman who frequented the library. Mrs. Pauling huffed a bit as she entered.

  “It’s ten past, you know,” she said to Kristin. “I practically froze to death out there waiting for you to open the door.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Pauling,” Kristin offered. “We just got caught up. Karen just told me she got engaged last night.” Kristin followed Mrs. Pauling into the main library, and they both looked at a smiling Karen.

  “Hmmph,” Mrs. Pauling grumbled. “People get engaged all the time. It doesn’t mean you open the doors late.” Mrs. Pauling worked her way over to the new release section opposite the front desk and started browsing. As soon she turned her back, Karen stuck her tongue out at her. Kristin did all she could to stifle a laugh.

  “Something funny?” Mrs. Pauling said as she shot Kristin a look.

  “No ma’am,” Kristin replied, scurrying behind the front desk towards her office. “Good luck with her today,” she whispered to Karen, rolling her eyes.

  “Even that old grouch can’t bring me down today,” Karen answered.

  Kristin walked back into her office and sat at her desk. She smiled and felt happy for Karen, but part of her panged with more than a little jealousy, even though she wouldn’t admit it. Just then, her phone buzzed with a text from Izzy.

  Nailed it!! TTYL

  A picture of Izzy, smiling into the camera, her red hair flowing and her blue eyes shimmering, filled her phone screen. The audition obviously went well.

  The day seemed to have gotten off to a nice start for a lot of people, and Kristin hoped in her heart that she would be a part of that good fortune as well. She sighed and looked back at the wallpaper on her computer, staring at the image of her and Wes.

  3

  After spending the better part of an hour swinging at pitches in the batting cage, Wes exhausted himself. He achieved such a good rhythm after struggling from the start that he feared to stop, worried the good swings would somehow vanish into thin air. He shut the pitching machine down, toweled off and sat for a while, and then looked at the computer screen that charted his swing statistics for him. He saw that his contact steadily improved, launch angle rose, and exit velocity was better than he thought it would be. Wes laughed and shook his head, knowing that when the company that installed the system explained how it could chart all these things for him, he scoffed about how unimportant they were. Now, in the state of baseball, these analytics were what GMs and front offices looked at the most. Even if he was considered a “dinosaur” or “old man” at thirty-seven, Wes knew his stats needed to compete with kids who weren’t much older than his daughter.

  Wes spent some time cleaning up the area, putting baseballs away, checking machinery, and doing chores he hadn’t done up there in many months to keep the cage ready for the next time he wanted to use it. He already decided there would be more, and he even began to map out a workout schedule that might help him get in better shape and get that muscle memory up where he needed it.

  When he stepped outside and locked up, Wes quickly remembered that it was February in Pennsylvania and not Bradenton, Florida. The sweat that formed on him quickly chilled and froze over, clinging to his hair and making it stiff. He worked his way down the hill back towards the house gingerly, realizing that getting up the hill with the snow and ice on the ground proved easier than trying to work his way down. The small slip he took as he neared the bottom caused his right leg to slide out in front of him and turn, and his brain swiftly recalled the blow his ankle had taken from a ball a bit ago. Wes fell and slid down the rest of the way towards the house. As much as he tried to stop the skid, his hands could do little in the snow and ice until his body reached the level surface just beyond the back patio.

  Wes lay back on the ground for a few moments. His head rested in the skid mark it had made in the snow while his right leg was up on a small mound it created as his body worked its way down the hill. His first thoughts were about potential injury to his surgically repaired knee, and then to his back, before the dull ache in his ankle returned with a flourish. Wes sat up, still feeling the pain, and scooted himself through the snow onto the patio where he could grasp the edge of one of the tables that were covered up for the winter. He hoisted himself up and braced against the table for a moment before he put his right leg down to make sure it could support his weight. Pain shot up his leg and caused a grimace.

  The back door lurked like a life preserver in the water for Wes, and thankfully Wes had the forethought to shovel off the back patio a few days ago, so there was a clear path to get there. The tricky part came when he found he needed to hop to the door, to keep his ankle off the ground as he tried not to fall again. He lunged the last foot or two and grabbed the door handle, turning it so he could get into the kitchen. Wes used every piece of furniture within his reach to traverse through the room and then took a few big hops into the bedroom before he leaped for the bed. Once on the bed, Wes huffed as sweat poured from him, almost as much as right after his workout in the batting cages. He pushed further up the mattress so he could reach his night
stand and then grabbed his cell phone. His first instinct was to call Kristin, but he changed his mind before he could press the button to dial her. Instead, he called down to his parents’ house, dialing his father’s phone. After a few rings, Wyatt answered.

  “Hey there,” his father replied. “You didn’t come down for breakfast this morning. Sleeping in again? There’s plenty of work to do in the stables if you need something to occupy your time.”

  “Funny, Dad,” Wes said. “Look, I need your help. I took a little fall, and I think I hurt myself.”

  “Are you alright?”

  “Dad, if I were alright, I wouldn’t be calling you for help,” Wes said with exasperation. “It feels like my ankle.”

  “Well, Dr. Emerson is here checking up on your Mom. I can run up with him if you want.”

 

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