Breaking the Rules

by Tinthia Clemant

  Jasper lapped at the tears on Chad’s cheek, but Chad pushed his muzzle away.

  “Aw, Chad, please. I’m sure Daddy will be here very soon.”

  “No.”

  “Of course he will. He wouldn’t miss seeing you play ball.” What was she up to now? Fifty lies?

  Chad kicked out his feet, slamming them against the seat’s edge. “Mama, I don’t care about Daddy.”

  “If you’re still mad because I lied, I’m sorry.”

  He bore into her eyes with an irate glare. “I don’t care about your lies.”

  ‘Hey, give me a break,’ she almost replied. ‘It was only one lie…okay, two…three tops,’ but she ended up asking, “Then what’s bothering you?”

  “My glove.” He pounded his leg.

  She breathed a sigh of relief and almost whooped out loud. Emotional scarring was something she’d need more time to fix, but a missing baseball glove was a piece of cake. “Is that all? Well, if Dee doesn’t have an extra glove, I seem to remember that Coach John keeps some for any player who forgets or loses his. You’ll see.”

  “Is that true, Mama?” His brown eyes studied her face, giving her another chance at redemption.

  “You bet your buttons it’s true.” The lies were burying her. She unbuckled the safety belt. “Run and tell Coach John we’re here. I’ll bring our stuff and Jasper.”

  She tried to smile as she watched him barreling through the grass. She caught her reflection in the window. Red Sox baseball cap and a nose about a foot long.

  “Get a grip,” she told the woman frowning back at her. “White lies don’t count.”

  She adjusted the brim of her hat and slipped the strap of her bag over her shoulder. Gathering the cooler, cookie bin, and Jasper’s leash, she trudged toward the field.

  “You’d better behave, Jasper, that’s all I can say.”

  Jasper seemed to understand her warning and heeled like a pro until they arrived at the refreshment table. An unleashed chocolate Lab ran over, giving him a reason to whine and jump.

  “Jasper, heel.” A fat lot of good her command did when the untethered dog was doing its best to sniff Jasper’s tail. What moron would let a dog wander without a leash at a kids’ baseball tryouts?

  She managed to get the cookies on the refreshment table, but as the two dogs circled each other, Jasper’s leash tethered her ankles together.

  “Sadie, heel.”

  The unleashed dog snapped to attention and darted away.

  Shannon sucked in a breath and her lower lip. Heat spread around her neck and up the back of her head as the baritone voice settled around her and called to mind the wonderful things he’d done to her in her dream. She wasn’t ready to see him. Please, she silently pleaded, go away until I’m ready, like in twenty years.

  “I thought I saw you.” St. John stepped in front of her. “I take it this is your Lab.” He crouched, petted Jasper, and then lifted her foot and untangled the leash.

  His familiar scent headed for her knees, and she held onto his shoulder for support, not missing the thick muscles moving under his shirt. Nor did she miss the slide of his finger up her bare calf.

  He straightened to his full height and grinned down at her. “There, now you’re finally free.”

  “Thank you,” she sputtered. She twisted Jasper’s lead around her hand and tried to think of something. She went with, “You should really have your dog on a leash.”

  “You’re right. My fault entirely.” He snapped his fingers, and his dog ran back under the table. “On to more important business: is Chad checked in?”

  She blinked at the sudden switch of topics. One second he was seducing her with his smile, and the next he was all business. No wonder women fell at his feet; they all dropped from the vertigo his behavior created. Well, she wasn’t going to swoon. “Yes, all set,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact.

  He nodded and stroked his chin. “Really? You filled out the paperwork?”

  “Yup,” she said, tightly looping the leash through her fingers.

  “May I see it?”

  “No.”

  “No?” His right eyebrow arched.

  “I meant to say I don’t have it with me. I…I forgot it.” She nibbled at her lip. Good goddess, he rattled her.

  “No problem, I have extra copies. You’re checked in, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who checked you in?”

  “I did.”

  “I mean, who helped you at the table?”

  “Oh, I don’t remember.”

  He stepped to the side, giving her a glimpse of the registration table and the woman sitting behind it.

  She stared, her lower lip turning white under the pressure of her top teeth. Leeann, two e’s-two n’s, with her perfect timing, lifted her pixie face and smirked.

  “I meant to say I haven’t signed in,” Shannon offered. “I just got here.”

  “Ah, but Chad is registered, right?”

  “Yes.”

  St. John lifted his baseball cap and raked his fingers through his hair. He replaced the hat and said, “Really? Well, I checked this morning, and no boy with the last name Baldos is registered. But, more importantly, and by this point I’ve lost count at how many you’ve offered me, I don’t like lies.”

  She ignored his comment. So she’d lied. Big deal; lying was her theme for the day.

  “However,” he continued, “that doesn’t mean Chad won’t get on the team.”

  “Don’t do me any favors, St. John.”

  She tugged on the leash, but St. John touched her elbow, his hand lingering.

  “Follow me.” He petted Jasper again and walked over to a row of oversized cartons. There he greeted a skinny girl wearing a halter top, Daisy Dukes, and high-tops. “Meg, this is Mrs. Baldos. She needs a Pittsburgh T-shirt and cap. She’ll tell you the size.” He thanked the girl and addressed Shannon. “You still have to fill out paperwork, and for that, you’re going to have to see Mrs. Chambers at the registration table. When you’re finished here, give Chad his shirt and have a seat. I’ll come find you at the end of practice. I want to talk to you.”

  “Whatever,” she said, hoping it would convey her indifference.

  St. John’s response was a low chuckle. He inhaled deeply. “You smell good enough to eat.”

  The words reduced her to putty. Oh, dear goddess, he’d said the same thing to her in her dream, right before his mouth found her—

  “What size shirt do you need?”

  Shannon sputtered a quick “What?” and stared at the teenager holding a baseball cap. “Oh, medium, unless they run small.”

  The rail-thin girl held out a purple T-shirt. “We have dog-sitters over there.”

  To the side of the bleachers, a cluster of dogs sniffed one another while four teenagers munched donuts.

  Shannon delivered Jasper and walked over to the line at the registration table. When it was her turn, she met the close-set eyes of her nemesis and spoke in as pleasant a tone as she could muster under the circumstances. “I’d like a registration packet, please.”

  Leeann fanned herself with a sheet of paper. “Excuse me?”

  “I said I—”

  “I heard you. Name, please?”

  “What?”

  “I said, name, please.”

  Shannon bent over the table and spoke so only Leeann would hear. “How about go fuck yourself? Does that name work for you?” She returned to a straight stance. “Would you like me to spell that?”

  Undaunted, Leeann said, “I don’t see your name on the list. Next, please.”

  Before Shannon could say a word, she was yanked from the line and pulled away from the table.

  “Go home,” Justin ordered.

  She squirmed under his grip and dropped Chad’s T-shirt and cap. It wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning, but from the stench of his breath and bloodshot eyes, it was clear he’d been drinking. She twisted, trying to break his hold on her arm. “You’re hurtin
g me.”

  Justin released her, and she rubbed her arm. She checked the stands, but Dee had her back to them, talking to another parent, and Peg was gone.

  “Go home,” Justin repeated.

  “I don’t want to. I want to see—”

  He regained his hold on her arm and squeezed. “You’re not too smart, are you? If you know what’s best for you, you’ll leave.”

  “Yoo-hoo, Justin, over here.” Leeann stood by her seat and waved. “I need to speak to you.”

  “I’m busy, Leeann,” Justin called out.

  “It’ll only take a minute.”

  Justin released Shannon and, through a tight jaw, said, “If you’re still here when I’m done, you’ll be sorry.”

  When his back was to her, she picked up the T-shirt and cap and sprinted to the field, calling out to Chad.

  He ran over to her, his face streaked with sweat.

  St. John came up behind him, his face filled with concern.

  “Mama, you were right,” Chad said. He held up his right hand buried inside a blue baseball glove. “But I don’t haf a T-shirt.”

  St. John took the shirt from Shannon, put it on Chad, and set the cap in place. “You’re all set, buddy. Go join the team and let me talk to your mom, okay?”

  Shannon bent one knee and hugged Chad. “Mama has to go home, but Daddy is here.”

  “Okay, I love you.”

  “I love you too.” She watched him run to join his teammates, and then she stood, ready to bolt.

  “Whoa, wait a second. What was that all about, with Justin?” St. John gave the red welt around her forearm a frown.

  “Justin wants me to go home,” she said.

  “Why?”

  They both turned at the sound of Justin calling Shannon’s name.

  “Don’t let him bully you,” St. John said.

  She couldn’t help but snicker. Bully her? Oh, if he only knew. “Save your advice.”

  “Shannon.”

  “St. John, please,” she pleaded. “Just stay out of this.”

  “It’s too late for that.” The brim of his baseball cap cast a shadow over his face. “Go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She watched him move quickly to intersect Justin, who was walking their way, and then she ran to the parking lot.

  “Shan?” Peg walked over to the SUV, a take-out tray of iced coffees in her hand. “I went and got us… What’s going on?”

  “Justin came.” Shannon unlocked the car and placed her hand on the door handle. “He told me to go home, and now he and St. John are…”

  They watched as Justin shoved his finger toward St. John’s face. St. John stood with his arms folded, seemingly unimpressed by the intimidating move. When Justin’s shouting lost steam, St. John stepped forward so their belt buckles nearly touched. Whatever he said ended with his arm raised, finger pointing at the stands. Justin sulked away.

  “Wow, and to think I almost missed the show by going to get coffee. Here.” Peg held out the tray. “Want yours?”

  “Thanks. I left my cooler and cookie container. Would you—?”

  “Say no more. Want me to take Chad to my place, too?”

  “No, thanks. Justin will bring him home. Oh, but Jasper is still with the dog-sitters. If Justin doesn’t—?”

  “No problem. You sure you’re okay?”

  Shannon nodded. She was as okay as any woman could be who lived with a bully. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She said goodbye to Peg and got in the car.

  On the ride home, St. John’s quip about her being a chicken pecked at her brain. Yup, she was—so much, in fact, that she should lay eggs. She’d be a whole lot braver with someone to help her, though, someone like Adam St. John. He’d swoop down and deal with Justin while she baked scones.

  That could even be a new rule: always let someone else do her dirty work for her.

  Chapter 14

  “Knowing yourself is the beginning of wisdom.”

  Aristotle

  The door leading into the kitchen slammed against the wall as if a rhinoceros had charged through. A pleading shriek of “Mama” followed.

  Shannon pushed from her desk and stood up. Chad’s outcry could only mean one thing—he was missing a limb. “What’s wrong?”

  He came barreling into her office and buried himself against her legs.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Justin yelled, “Get upstairs.” He entered the room, dragging Jasper and carrying the cooler and cookie container. “Next time,” he said, “I’m leaving the dog.” He tossed the items to the floor, along with the leash, and reached for Chad. “I said upstairs, now.”

  Chad scooted around behind Shannon’s legs. She placed her arms behind her while Justin tried to grab hold of him. “Justin, stop. What is your problem?”

  Jasper snapped at Justin, who was trying to extract Chad from the folds of Shannon’s skirt.

  “That’s it.” Justin pulled Jasper from the room. Shannon could hear him slam the kitchen door while Jasper barked from inside the garage as she tried to console Chad. When Justin returned to her office, he grabbed for Chad. “What did I say? Go to your room.”

  Shannon lifted Chad and hugged him to her breast, his legs and arms wrapped tightly around her.

  Across from her, Justin glared, his body shaking.

  “You’re out of control lately, Justin, and unless you want the police here, you’d better stop because, I’m warning you, I will call them.”

  With Chad still in her arms, softly sobbing against her shoulder, Shannon entered the kitchen where she sat him on one of the center island stools. Justin followed and removed a beer from the refrigerator. Jasper provided background noise by continuing to bark.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?” Shannon asked Justin, her back to him as she gently wiped Chad’s face with a wet dish towel.

  “First,” Justin said, “I want him upstairs.”

  “Why? What could he have possibly done?”

  “Don’t make me say it again. Just do it, or you’ll be sorry.”

  Shannon faced Justin but kept her arm around Chad’s shoulder, supporting him with her hip. Odd as it seemed, she wasn’t scared. The ‘you’ll be sorry’ threat had been thrown at her so many times that it had lost its edge. “I’ve been sorry for eight years,” she replied.

  Justin’s mouth opened and closed, and then opened again, reminding her of a fish—a wide-mouthed bass. If she’d had a few flies, she’d have tossed them at him.

  For eight years she’s been unhappy, not just with him but with herself. She’d done her best to distance herself and Chad from him. He was seldom in the house and when he was, it was to shower, watch TV, or sleep—in the third bedroom. Any warmth that had once existed between her and the man now gaping at her had long ago evaporated, leaving in its wake a nauseating stench. She’d fantasized about divorcing him, even researched the laws in New Hampshire; all that was left for her to do was to say the words.

  She bent close to Chad. “Sweetie, go upstairs so Mama and Daddy can talk, okay?”

  “No, Mama.”

  Caught off guard, she stumbled when Chad flung himself at her and clung to her neck. “Chad, you’re choking me. I want you to do what I said. Now go.” When Chad was safely upstairs, she faced Justin. It was time to do what she had… No, absolutely needed to do. “Justin, I’m l—”

  “Stifle it.”

  His seething anger startled her.

  “Nothing’s good enough for you,” he said, twisting off the cap from the beer bottle and flicking it in her direction where it skittered to a stop near the edge of the island’s surface.

  His tone, though eerily subdued, possessed a raw hatred that matched the poisonous look he was giving her, and she stepped back.

  He took a step forward. “After everything I do for you, you and that brat are still determined to embarrass me.”

  As much as she wanted to avert her eyes, she couldn’t.

  He slammed the bottle on the island, se
nding a volcano of froth shooting in the air. “That asshole is going to pay. I have as much right to be on that field as he does, telling me to go sit in the stands like he owned the fucking place. Let me tell you something,” he said, angling the neck of the bottle at her. “Chad will not be playing baseball.”

  Justin sucked on the beer bottle until he’d emptied it, then tossed it into the sink, his rant continuing. “Fucking kid couldn’t even hit the ball with it two inches from his nose. It was sitting right there on the tee. And throwing. He’d be better off knitting, which I’m sure you’ve taught him. It was a good thing I got him the hell away from there before he made me look worse.”

  “Hold on…” Shannon shook her head. Here she was thinking his anger had to do with her being at the field when the real reason was Chad’s inability to throw? “You mean to tell me you’re mad because a six-year-old can’t toss a baseball?”

  “This is your fault,” he said.

  “In what way?” If he told her because she’d stayed married to him, she’d agree.

  “You pander to him. You might as well put a dress on him and call him Candy.” He removed another bottle from the fridge and said, “I’m outta here. The other pain in my ass wants me to take her furniture shopping. I should kick both of you to the curb.”

  She let the comment pass. She would have liked to raise her hand and volunteer to be the first to get the boot. “Will you be coming back to get Chad?” she asked.

  “Why would I do that?” he spat back.

  “You and Jeff and Howard are taking the kids to Water Country, remember? Tonight there’s a sleepover at the lodge.”

  “Forget it. I’m not spending another minute with that brat.”

  She’d rather have kept Chad home and as far away from Justin as possible, but all Chad’s friends would be there, and being left out would crush him. She could ask Dee to tell Jeff to keep an eye on Justin to make sure he didn’t yell at Chad.

  “Fine, go,” she said. “You’re so concerned with your reputation, I’m surprised you don’t mind looking bad in front of the other dads.”

  “What the fuck are you babbling about?”

  “Tomorrow’s Father’s Day, or have you forgotten? How will it look if Chad is banished to his bedroom while you play house with your mistress?”