Change of Hart

by M. E. Carter

  “Can I go watch him?” Jaxon asked, staring at Addison with wide eyes.

  “Um . . . ,” she stammered, looking over at me like she wasn’t sure what the right answer was.

  I smiled. “Sure you can, Jax. Just don’t touch anything.”

  “And don’t bother him for long!” Addison yelled after him as he took off down the field. But he was already so far away, he either didn’t hear her or just chose not to respond.

  Addison and I looked at each other and started meandering toward the goal posts, which were a good seventy-five yards away. I was kind of glad Jaxon left us by ourselves. And not just because she was hot. Turns out, she was witty and smart and had a great sense of humor. We’d had a lot of fun during the tour and I was interested in getting to know her better.

  “Thanks again for inviting us,” Addison said shyly. “He’s really having a great time.”

  “Well, he’s a great kid,” I smiled back at her. “I enjoy spending time with him. Kind of reminds of myself when I was his age.”

  Addison laughed. “Oh, your poor mother!”

  “I don’t know how either of you do it as single moms,” I said. “I’ve heard raising kids is hard. But I can’t imagine raising boys with so much energy all by yourself.”

  “I didn’t know your mom raised you alone.” She blushed. “I mean, it’s not like I know a whole lot about you. I don’t stalk you online or anything. I just . . . oh, geez . . . you know. You’re on the news a lot so I just see things here and there.”

  There was that nervousness again. I liked seeing her blush. “Yeah, I’m on the news more often than I like. But what can I do? I chose the job and everything that goes with it.”

  “Did your parents get a divorce, or . . . ,” her voice trailed off. “I’m sorry, I’m getting really personal. You don’t have to tell me.”

  “No, no,” I said, trying to reassure her. “It’s actually kind of funny.”

  Addison looked at me with those bright hazel eyes again. Damn, she was beautiful. “Well, not ‘ha ha’ funny. Just kind of ironic.”

  “How so?”

  “My dad actually died when I was a kid,” I said, glancing over at Jaxon and Eli, happily conversing about, well, whatever Jaxon was interested in at the moment.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Addison said, knowing first-hand the difficulties. “How old were you?”

  “I was eight,” I said, my gaze dropping to the grass in front of me, memories coming back as we walked. “Car accident. Just like Jaxon’s dad. I’m actually surprised he didn’t tell you about it. We had a whole conversation about it after the pep rally.”

  I looked over at Addison, whose eyebrows were raised. “Wow,” she said. “I’m surprised, too. He usually tells me just about everything about . . . well . . . everything. That is ironic, though. Is that why you invited Jaxon here?”

  I smiled sheepishly. “Partly. I still remember what that first year after losing my dad felt like, and it really sucked. I’m so grateful that I have an amazing uncle who kind of stepped into that roll. But it didn’t make me miss my dad any less.” I shrugged. “I figured if I could give Jaxon something to do that he’d really enjoy, something that his dad would have loved . . . I don’t know . . . maybe I could help make him not so sad and feel close to his dad at the same time.”

  We stopped walking, still about ten yards away from the goalposts, and just looked at each other. I was worried that talking about her dead husband would make her sad or even tear up or something. But she didn’t. So I wasn’t quite sure how she was going to respond to my confession.

  After a few seconds she finally spoke. “What’s the other part?”

  “What?” I asked, confused.

  “You said knowing how Jaxon feels is partly why you invited him. What’s the other part?”

  I looked back over at the goalposts again. This was either gonna sound crazy or really sweet. I was hoping for the latter.

  “I like him,” I shrugged and looked back at Addison. “I’ve met a lot of kids at different events over the years. But Jaxon and I just connect. Like we’re meant to be friends or something.”

  I snorted, looking down at my feet. “That is the sappiest thing I have ever said in my life. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna need to do a few extra tackles to get my man-card back after that one,” I said, looking back up at Addison. She was smiling at me.

  “If it’s ok with you, I’d love to hang out with him again. The invitation extends to you, too, obviously. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything,” I said, trying not to sound desperate but knowing I didn’t really want to say goodbye to either one of them today.

  The wide grin I saw when Addison first introduced herself came back. “I think he’d really like that. He could use a good male role model these days.” She turned and started walking toward Jaxon, with me right on her tail.

  “Jax, it’s time to go, honey,” Addison said, walking the final few yards to where he was painting. “What are you doing?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am,” Eli said nervously. “He said you wouldn’t mind if he helped paint.”

  “No, it’s fine,” Addison said with a smile. Eli visibly relaxed. “I just hope he wasn’t bothering you while you were working.”

  “Oh no!” Eli said with a smile. “I’ve got two boys of my own and five grandsons. I’m used to working around little men. Besides, he’s a pretty good painter!”

  I looked over at Jaxon who was still painting, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth while he concentrated.

  “Hey, Jaxon,” I said, “Buddy, your mom said it’s time to go.”

  “I know,” he said, “but I’m not done.”

  I looked over at Addison who rolled her eyes. Clearly this wasn’t the first time he’d ignored her instructions. I walked closer to Jaxon and squatted down in front of him. “Hey dude, I’m about to teach you something every man should know, ok?” That got his attention. He looked right at me.

  “Ok,” he said quietly.

  “When mom says it’s time to go, that means it’s time to go. Right then,” I took the paintbrush out of his hands and put it on the tarp next to him. “See, they don’t like having us men come along with them on errands. So if they’re taking us with them, that means it’s really, really important.”

  Jaxon looked directly into my eyes. “Do you go with your mom when she says it’s time to go, too?”

  I smiled. “Every single time, buddy. Even if I don’t want to. I always obey my mom.”

  I looked over at Addison who had her arms crossed in front of her chest, a smirk on her face.

  “Sorry, Mom,” Jaxon said. “I’m ready to go.” I stood up and put my hand on his shoulder. “Bye, Mr. Eli. Thanks for letting me paint.”

  “Yeah, thanks Eli,” I said. “Hope there’s not too much to fix now.”

  Eli laughed. “Oh no! He’s a good painter. You come back any time and help, Jaxon!”

  Addison waved goodbye to Eli and the three of us made our way off the field, past security and into the parking lot, Jaxon resuming his normal chatter.

  When the car was started and Jaxon was safely buckled in, Addison leaned against the car door, arms crossed in front of her, feet crossed at the ankles, smirking at me. I got a vibe from her that maybe she was more interested in me than I originally thought.

  “Well, you are coming in handy already,” she flirted. At least, it looked like flirting. “I haven’t had him break away from an interesting activity without a fight since, well, I don’t even remember when.”

  I chuckled and moved next to her, leaning against the car door and mimicking her pose. “There are certain things every man needs to teach a boy. How to respect your mother is one of them.”

  “Well, I really appreciate it. I really appreciate you wanting to be his friend,” she said softly. “Just . . .”

  “Just what?” I asked.

  “Just make sure if you really want to be his friend, you will always be his
friend,” she said, looking up at me. “I don’t wanna have to watch his little heart break again if another important man leaves him. And yes, I know his dad didn’t leave him. But the heartache is still painful.”

  “I promise,” I said. “He’s a special kid. I think we can be good for each other.”

  “Good,” she said, shoving off the car door. “Now that that’s settled, I think a certain little boy needs to go home and take a nap. Look at him,” she said, gesturing to the window. “He’s already nodding off.”

  I turned around and saw Jaxon’s eyes rolling into the back of his head and his head bobbing. He was trying so hard to stay awake, it made me laugh. I turned back to Addison as she started to open her car door. I knew in my mind that it had only been six months since her husband had died. But my gut kept telling me she might be interested in me. Now was as good of a time as any to find out.

  “Hey, Addison,” I said, stopping her before she could climb in. She turned and looked at me over her shoulder. “I really enjoyed talking with you today.”

  She smiled that smile again. “Me too, Jason.”

  I cleared my throat. “I’d love to take you to dinner some time. Just the two of us. If you’re interested, that is.”

  Addison’s back immediately stiffened and the smile fell off her face. Her eyes widened almost like she was in fear. “Um . . . I, uh . . . ,” she stammered before taking a deep breath. “I’m flattered. But no. No, Jason. Just . . . um . . . no.”

  She climbed into the car without another word, not even so much as eye contact, and drove away. Leaving me standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering how the hell I had read those signals so wrong.

  “Mmmm . . . ,” I said, raising my head up, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. I heard a giggle to the right of me and opened my eyes.

  “Mommy, he said, ‘Mmmm . . .’” Emma laughed. I just smiled and winked at her, taking another bite of the roast Lindsay had made and moaning again just to make her laugh again.

  “It’s good,” I defended playfully. “Don’t you like your mama’s cooking, Emma?”

  At five years old, she was already the spitting image of her mother. From the hair to the eyes. Even her sarcastic personality. She was a cute kid. She and Jaxon would get along really well. That is, if Addison ever let me see Jaxon again. I wasn’t really sure after the way our visit ended over the weekend.

  “She loves when I make roast and vegetables,” Lindsay said. “She just eats really, reeeaallly . . . sloooowly . . .”

  I finished chewing and reached my fork over to Emma’s plate, getting ready to snag a carrot.

  “Well you’d better hurry up, Emma, or I’m gonna eat yours, too!” She squealed and quickly speared the carrot, shoving it into her mouth.

  I looked at Lindsay and winked before digging in to my own food again.

  “Seriously, Lin, this is really good,” I said again.

  Sam, Lindsay’s husband, grabbed the bottle of Merlot off the table and topped our glasses off.

  “You do realize you can make it yourself, right?” Sam said playfully. “It’s been sitting in the slow cooker all day. It’s not like she actually cooked for you.”

  “Thanks a lot for blowing my secret, babe,” Lindsay said sarcastically, taking a sip.

  “I don’t care how it was made,” I said, shoveling another bite in my mouth. “I haven’t had a meal like this in forever.”

  “Mommy, I’m done,” Emma said. I looked over and saw that her plate, which had been full just seconds ago, was empty.

  “How did she do that?” I asked.

  “That’s all you, buddy. Still so charming you can get the ladies to do just about anything,” Lindsay teased. “You gonna try to get her to do your homework next like you used to do to Katie Woodrow? She always fell for it.”

  Sam laughed and pushed his chair away from the table. “I’ll take her upstairs and get her ready for bed now that she’s done. Come on, Emma.”

  I swallowed my last bite and put my fork down on my plate as Sam and Emma walked up the stairs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lin. I’m not that big of a player.” I grabbed my wine glass and took a large drink.

  “Really,” Lindsay said, sitting back and crossing her arms. “Name one girl you’ve shown even the slightest bit of interest in who rejected you.”

  “That’s easy. Nina Randolph.”

  “That doesn’t count!”

  “Why not?”

  “That was in the sixth grade! You didn’t even play football yet!”

  “So what?” I defended. “I had a big crush on that girl and she turned me down flat! You know that!”

  Lindsay snorted. “If it makes you feel better, she spent all of high school pining over you and telling me how you were ‘the one that got away,’” she said, making air quotations.

  “What?” I asked. “How come you never told me that before?”

  “Because she was an idiot who only cared about her reputation,” Lindsay said, standing up and piling all the plates together. “She was only upset because she missed out on dating the star athlete and all the notoriety that went with it. Besides, she was a whore.”

  “Which was exactly the kind of girl I was into back then,” I argued, gathering a couple of serving plates and following Lindsay into the kitchen. “I wouldn’t have minded showing her what she had missed out on.”

  Lindsay started making a gagging sound. “Ew. Don’t even talk about that. The thought of you showing anyone anything like that makes me wanna puke.”

  I burst out laughing. It was almost too easy to get Lindsay riled up.

  “So really, that’s the best you’ve got? Nina Randolph is the only girl who ever turned you down?” she said, turning on the water to rinse the dishes. I leaned against the counter next to her and ran a hand down my face, not sure I wanted to tell her any more.

  “Well . . . I was turned down one other time.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “It was kind of recent, actually.”

  Lindsay looked up at me with surprise on her face. “Are you kidding?”

  I shook my head. “I wish I were. Apparently I misread some signals.”

  Lindsay stopped what she was doing and turned her whole body to face me. “Who was it?”

  I paused. I didn’t really want to tell her, but I knew she would get it out of me anyway. I looked at the floor, suddenly feeling sheepish. “Addison Bryant.”

  “Jason!” Lindsay chastised. “Did you ask her out during the playdate you had with her kid?”

  I groaned. “Not during.”

  “Ohmygod, Jason!” she said, throwing a towel at me. “So now she thinks you used her kid to get to her!”

  My head whipped up to look at her. “That’s not how it happened! I didn’t even know she was hot until they showed up!”

  “You did not just say that,” Lindsay said with a smirk.

  I smirked back. “What? So she’s hot. So what?”

  Lindsay rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’re a pig. So, fine. Then what happened?”

  “I don’t really know,” I said thinking back to the whole day. “We were talking and having a great time. She batted her eyelashes at me,” I said, turning toward Lindsay. “I swear she batted her eyelashes at me!”

  Lindsay turned the water off and grabbed a fresh towel to wipe off her hands, turning all her attention on me.

  “Go on.”

  “I don’t know. I just . . . when I told her I’d like to take her to dinner, she just got stiff and couldn’t look at me and just kept saying, ‘no . . . just . . . no’ and took off in her car without any explanation.”

  She threw the towel on the counter and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Jay, I love you. But you are an idiot.”

  I snorted as she continued.

  “Her husband died six months ago. Six months. That’s not a whole lot of time to grieve over someone you spent several years building a life and fam
ily with. Think about how long it took your mom to get over your dad.”

  “I thought about that while we were taking the tour,” I said, shifting my feet. “But I swear I was getting this vibe that she was as interested in me as I was in her.” I ran my hand down my face again. “I don’t know. Now I’m worried about exactly what you said . . . that she’ll think I’m using Jaxon to get to her. And that’s not true. I really like the kid.”

  Lindsay’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “He’s a really special kid.”

  “Yeah, he is.”

  “So call her and ask if Jaxon can come over and play.”

  I threw my head back and roared with laughter at her use of words.

  “I’m serious. Show her that even though you are interested in her, you wanna be Jaxon’s buddy, too.”

  I looked up at her. “We have another home game in a couple weeks. He had such a good time on the tour, I was thinking of inviting them to come to the game. Meet all my teammates and see what I do.”

  “And not ask his mom out again.”

  I wish I could say that didn’t disappoint me, because it did. I liked Addison and wanted to get to know her better. She was nice and funny and really cute when she got nervous. I was secretly hoping Lindsay could give me some advice on how to get her to go out with me, not just tell me to back off. But she was right. It had only been six months since her husband died. I guess she just wasn’t ready yet.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” I said reluctantly.

  “What’s she right about this time?” Sam asked, walking in and grabbing a glass from the cabinet.

  “Pfftt, what am I not right about?” Lindsay asked, putting her arms around Sam and pulling him in for a hug. As I watched them interact, for the first time I started wondering what that would be like. Not to just hang out with someone, but to build a life with someone. I knew I wanted that someday, but I wasn’t gonna go looking for the woman of my dreams in the middle of my career.

  But I couldn’t stop wondering if that perfect woman had just fallen into my lap. From a distance, there wasn’t really anything that different or unique about Addison. But our connection felt different. The comfortable way we could interact felt different. If she was my perfect woman, what do I do now?