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Battle

Page 16

by KJ Bell


  “Yep. Crazy right?”

  “I’m confused. Last night she threw Cooper’s ring at him.”

  “Austin told me the entire story. She told Cooper she would leave her husband if he’d commit to her. Cooper proposed, and she was supposed to be leavin’ the guy, but she hasn’t. Before he left Friday, he told her it wasn’t gonna work out.”

  “Sounds like a heapin’ mess to me.”

  “You got that right, but Austin says Coop really loves her.”

  Cooper wasn’t kidding when he said things with his girl are complicated. Thinking about it baffles me. It also reminds me how you can’t choose who you fall in love with, no matter how convoluted your relationship might me. He’s trying to move on with these other girls, forcing them to fill a void, only it’s making his situation worse. Now I do feel bad for him, and I hope Battle and Austin can take his mind off of his troubles.

  Tucker decided to ride home with JT and Ginger. Austin, Battle, Marty and I spend the drive talking. The more time I spend around Austin, the more I like him, and the more I see how perfect a fit he is for Marty. He’s larger than life, egotistical, an often vulgar, but he has an enormous heart.

  We stop at my place first. Battle walks me to my door, and like a perfect gentleman, thanks me for joining him this weekend. I want him to do more than hug me goodbye. I want the man that said I’m his woman to haul me into his arms and kiss me until I’m weak in the knees. He doesn’t and disappointment ripples through me as I close my door, followed closely by the ugly finger of my conscious reminding me I wanted more than a sexual relationship.

  I peel myself out of bed for work. My body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. While the weekend wore me out, it was the best weekend of my life. I’d do it all over again. I should have taken today off as I originally planned, but I have a ton of work.

  I’m not looking forward to speaking with Mr. Fenton about Battle no longer being a client. Battle emailed him the news, and I haven’t heard from him, which can’t be good.

  As my bad luck would have it, my boss and I arrive at the same time, meeting up in the parking lot. He greets me cheerfully and doesn’t appear to be upset as we walk to the office.

  “Mr. Fenton, I’m sorry about Mr. McCoy’s account. I know you wanted it, but …”

  “But the two of you dating is against company policy.”

  I stop mid stride, as my mouth falls open. “You know?”

  “I didn’t until Mr. McCoy phoned me this morning.”

  We continue walking, and I say, “We weren’t … I mean we … It …”

  His light laugh tells me he isn’t upset. “You don’t have to explain. I admit when I received Mr. McCoy’s email telling me he was going with another firm, I was surprised. I stewed on it all weekend it fact, but after he called this morning offering five new clients for you to handle, I got over it.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes, he even had their files couriered over. They should be on your desk.”

  They are on my desk in boxes, and all over the floor. All five of them: JT, Cooper, Austin, Scooter, and Tucker. I get busy sorting through the massive heap of paperwork. At least the guys, unlike Battle, have bank accounts and their paperwork is in order.

  My desk phone rings, and I answer it. “You need to talk some sense into your boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I tell Ginger.

  “Do you know what he did?”

  She doesn’t sound angry, so it can’t be that horrendous. “No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

  “His granddaddy left him a fortune, Faye, like enough to buy a country.”

  I already know about his trust. “And?” I push, assuming there has to be more.

  “He donated every damn dime. Half to a breast cancer research fund and half to an autism foundation. I couldn’t stop him. As soon as we opened the account, he had me write the checks. I didn’t mail them yet. I think you should talk to him. He needs to stagger the donations over years to help with taxes.”

  His insanely generous donation works against my finance manager logic. I advise my clients to invest their money, build their future—not give it away. However his doing so makes me fall for him a little harder.

  I consider telling Ginger about Evelyn and Erinn, but I don’t know how Battle would feel about it. He’s a private guy.

  “You’re the accountant, Ging. You talk to him.”

  “You’re as impossible as he is,” she groans. “I tried talkin’ to him. He won’t budge. Says he doesn’t need the money—that ridin’ provides enough.”

  “I’m sure it does.” I know it does. I’ve seen what Battle makes from rodeo purses and endorsements. He could leave bull riding tomorrow and still be set for life.

  “That’s not the point.”

  I laugh. “Piece of advice, Ging, don’t fight him. You won’t win.”

  She grumbles about Battle being stubborn and ends the call.

  I recall Battle mentioning how he cut ties with the McCoys. I suppose donating his share of the family fortune is his way of severing the connection for good.

  My phone rings again. I assume it’s Ginger, calling back and I answer with a laugh. “Ms. Callahan.”

  “Hmm. You have a sexy phone voice, Ms. Callahan,” Battle drawls through the line. “What are you doin’?”

  His voice heats my core, causing me to squirm. “I’m lookin’ over my new clients paperwork.”

  He chuckles. “Worse than mine?”

  “I haven’t decided yet, but thank you for smoothin’ things over with my boss.”

  “You free for lunch?” he asks.

  “I think my new clients are gonna keep me busy until clockin’ out time.”

  “Then you need to fire them.” He laughs.

  I do make time for lunch, and over the next few weeks, Battle and I spend all of our free time together. He’s charming and sincere, funny and intense, and I feel myself slipping comfortably into his life.

  Erinn and I are becoming fast friends, mostly because she knows I’m the sucker that will let her eat fruit snacks whenever she wants. Battle says she mopes if I’m not at his house when she comes over. Even Roy and I are attached. He’s always at my feet, lifting my hand with his snout for attention.

  This middle ground we’ve adapted appears to be working out, but I have concerns. I hide them well. Actually I deny them all together. Thinking about what it will do to me if Battle decides to walk away hurts, but anxiety robs my ability to function, and the only cure is ignoring my fears. Burying my head in the sand may be foolish, but for now, it’s the only way to get through the day.

  While I know we’re more than friends, our relationship hasn’t progressed physically past hand holding or cuddling on the couch to watch a movie. We haven’t kissed, but we came close when he took me for a ride on his horse around the lake to watch the sunset.

  I haven’t heard from Wyatt. My parents and I are speaking, but not nearly as often as we used to because I can’t listen to them try to convince me that Battle is a bad guy. He’s not. He might be flawed by circumstances beyond his control, but he’s pure of heart.

  There are times I think I believe in him more than he does; times like the other night when he showed me a picture of his mother and shared stories with me about how she used to attend every ride and cheer him on. There’s a part of Battle that already misses his mother, and he hides his emotions for her and Erinn.

  His mother has been begging him to bring me to dinner. Tonight, we’re finally making it happen. She opens the door and smiles a warm greeting.

  It’s hard to reconcile the frail woman in front of me whose shorts and t-shirt hang on her with the picture of her at Battle’s house from only two years ago. While she’s pencil thin, her abdomen protrudes and her ankles are swollen. Dark purple circles frame her crystal blue eyes, which stand out against the colorful scarf covering her head. Her hand trembles uncontrollably as she reaches for me. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re as
lovely as Battle said were.”

  “Thank you,” I say, smiling, although it doesn’t come easily as my heart struggles to accept her appearance. Is it not enough she has to lose her life? Does cancer have to take her hair, her breasts, her organs, and her beauty? Does cancer have to take everything? Of course it does, because it’s a vile disease derived from some unexplainable cruelty. I want to cry, but I don’t want to upset her.

  “Come on into the kitchen. James is nearly finished with dinner.”

  Erinn pounds into the hardwood floor of the living room, playing Just Dance on the Wii. I manage to get a quick wave from her as I follow Battle into the kitchen. We sit at the table and Battle introduces me to James. Through the conversation leading up to dinner, I learn James is Evelyn’s boyfriend. They went to high school together and reconnected on Facebook a few years back. Two weeks after James moved in with Evelyn, they found out about the cancer. Another 'fuck you' delivered by the heartless disease.

  My earlier sadness transitions to anger, and I do my best to hide it, though I can feel it seeping out of my pores. Battle and his mother bicker briefly over Erinn attending summer school, but Evelyn won’t budge as Erinn struggled with her grades as much as her socializing over the school year and has to make them up. They also debate her going to a specialized school. Evelyn wins that argument as well, as the school is forty-five minutes away. With radiation appointments wearing her thin, she refuses to make the drive.

  Throughout dinner, I lose count of the number of times Evelyn laughs with the lighthearted nature of a little girl. She clings to each spoken word like they’re a precious gift, which in her case, they are. I understand clearly why she doesn’t show her sadness or anger. There’s no time for emotions that don’t make her smile. I admire her resolve. Cancer will claim her life, but she’ll never let it take her spirit. I think she’ll take her last breath with a smile on her face.

  After dinner, I help James clear the table and do the dishes. Battle and Evelyn maintain a quiet conversation at the table. I don’t hear much until their voices rise.

  “Please. I’m beggin’ you, son. When I’m gone, you make peace with your daddy. You’re gonna need family.”

  “Family?” Battle scoffs. “He ain’t family, Mama.”

  “She’ll never convince him,” James says under his breath. “Can’t say I blame him.”

  “Why’s that?” I ask, knowing I probably shouldn’t.

  “Gerald’s as selfish as they come.” He keeps his voice low. “There’s some big ol’ ugly secrets in that family. I’m not sure if even Battle knows all the things his daddy’s done.”

  “Well, whatever he does know tears him up inside.”

  James leans in close. “That’s because the darkest secret of ‘em all, hurt him the most.”

  Battle enters the kitchen right before I ask James more about this big secret. The interruption is probably for the best. As much as I want to know, I want Battle to share it with me when he’s comfortable.

  The night ends all too quickly as Battle has to leave for Little Rock in the morning. We say goodnight to his family. My heart feels heavy as I sit in Battle’s truck. Evelyn is a beautiful soul, and an amazing mother. I’m grateful to know her, if only for a short time. Life can be incredibly unfair, and each day is a blessing we should never take for granted.

  Battle’s quiet on the way to his house as he usually is when he sees his mom. When we cuddle up together in his bed, I ask him about how he began riding. He tells me it was his granddaddy who taught him and he started out riding sheep when he was only five.

  Picturing a tiny blue-eyed Battle on a sheep makes me laugh. He tickles me, telling me that’s how all kids start out. He shares how at ten, he mounted his first bull and didn’t make it out of the gate before he fell. As he continues into his teenage years, my eyelids begin to close, although I try to stay awake. He turns off the lamp on the nightstand and pulls me close, talking to me about the sport he loves until his voice soothes me to sleep.

  In the morning, I say goodbye to Battle and drive home. I spend most of the day doing chores around the house until Marty and Ginger show up for a sleepover. We’re having a girls’ night since the guys are in Little Rock. We hang out giving each other pedicures and discussing our love lives, which is a mistake. Ginger and Marty do most of the talking, both of them bragging about the amazing sex they’re having.

  I have zilch to contribute since Battle and I haven’t done anything more than hold hands and cuddle. It’s not for a lack of trying on my part either. Whenever I try to initiate a kiss, he ducks his head or turns away. The attraction is there. I can feel it, and I know he can, too.

  The waiting is torture. I wonder if I would feel this needy if I didn’t know what I was missing.

  “Earth to Faye,” Marty shouts, waving a hand in front of my face.

  “What?”

  “We want to hear about Battle,” Ginger says. “What’s he like?”

  “Oh … Well, he’s … intense.”

  “Obviously!” Marty snorts. “But like, multiple orgasms intense?”

  Her and Ginger laugh, then stop when they see my tight expression.

  “What’s wrong?” Ginger asks.

  “Nothing!” I snap. “There’s more to a relationship than sex.”

  “Whoa … Okay.” Ginger holds her hands up. “We weren’t tryin’ to upset you.”

  A heavy sigh exits my lungs as I realize I may have overreacted. “I know you didn’t. I snapped at you because I don’t know why Battle and I aren’t having sex. It’s making me crazy.”

  My friends scoot close to me, one on each side with their arms around me.

  “It shouldn’t,” Ginger says quietly.

  Marty adds, “He obviously adores you.”

  I smile, but only for show. On the inside my doubts and fears keep my relief hostage. I worry he’s simply waiting out the middle, and eventually he’ll realize what he’s said along—that he isn’t capable of more. That his mind is closed off to love and that despite his willingness to try, he isn’t able to move past the pain of his mother slowly dying, or the other secrets he’s yet to share that have cursed his heart. I can’t help but attribute his disinterest in sex with emotional responses he’s afraid to feel.

  I’m scared, too, but unlike Battle, I crave the emotional connection that comes with sex. I want to feel the bond that materializes when two people share an open vulnerability with their bodies. Mostly, I want to feel physically what I know he’s afraid to share verbally.

  Sunday night, Battle phones to let me know they won’t be leaving Little Rock until the morning. We spend hours talking as he boasts about taming Suit of Armor this time around, and the ride that led him into victory. His love of the sport filters through the phone, filling me with pride.

  I can’t help but think of the irony. Battle wears a suit of armor around his heart for protection. Will I ever tame him, and win his surrender?

  He also tells me Stacy came with Tucker this trip, and they had a long, much needed talk. It appears both Tucker and Battle have agreed to forgive and forget. I’m not sure I could be as forgiving if a person intentionally tried to ruin my friendship with Marty or Ginger. I add compassion to the long list of qualities that make Battle the amazing man he is.

  We reach a point where I can barely keep my eyes open, and I try to say goodnight. He insists on staying on the line until I fall asleep, and he does. For how long, I have no idea, but as I drift away, I hear his breathing.

  For a man who once made it clear, he doesn’t do love or relationships, he’s incredibly romantic.

  I wake in the morning with a smile as my excitement builds, knowing Battle will be home tonight. I’ve missed him, and phone calls aren’t nearly as satisfying as being near him. I can’t erase the smile as I drive to work, hoping the day sails by. Once at the office, I keep myself busy and help a co-worker with one of her projects. Time isn’t passing as quickly as I’d hoped. Before lunch, I answer my phone
.

  “Faye,” Battle says, his voice frantic.

  My first thought is Evelyn. A deep, internal sense of dread wraps around me like dense clouds.

  Not today. Please, not today.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, holding my breath for his reply.

  “Can you pick up Erinn from school?” he asks, and I exhale in relief. “My mom’s at the hospital and James can’t leave her. Henry’s on vacation, and I won’t be home until after five.”

  “Of course. Will they let me?”

  “I’ll call and tell them,” he says. A pause fills the line before he continues. “I’m sorry to put this on you, but I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “Don’t apologize,” I say. I’m happy he trusted me enough to call me. “Battle, I adore Erinn. It’s not a problem, and work is dead slow anyway.”

  “You’re amazing,” he says, only I hear, ‘You’re an amazing friend.’

  “She has the key to my place. I told James I would bring her home.” He rattles off instructions, and after the third one, I interrupt.

  “Battle. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I know Erinn, remember?”

  “Thank you and I’ll see you tonight.”

  I end the call and stroll to Mr. Fenton’s office to let him know I’m taking the afternoon off before I leave to pick up Erinn. On the drive, worries about what to expect when I get to the school creep into my thoughts. Battle didn’t explain why she needed to be picked up in the middle of the day, but I’m guessing she had another altercation with one of the girls I’ve come to believe bully her relentlessly.

  She’s such a sweet kid. How the girls at her school can’t see that is beyond me. Why they can’t be kind infuriates me.

  As I enter the building, Mrs. Jacoby walks out of her office behind a very distraught Erinn. The look on the Vice-Principal’s face concerns me as it reflects a sense that she’s giving up on Erinn.

  I smile at Erinn as I place my hand on her shoulder. She ducks away. Her eyebrows draw together at the same time she purses her lips. She breathes noisily through her nose with her belongings held tightly to her body.

 

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