by Faith O'Shea
All she was willing to tell him was, “You’ll like it.”
The drive down Route 128 was uneventful, taking only forty-five minutes. There were very few who ventured this far out during the winter months. Come July and August, it was so jam packed with tourists you couldn’t get a seat in your favorite restaurant or find solitude on the beach. It gave her time to set some parameters up for the interview.
“There’s some things you can’t talk about. You know that, right?”
“The part about the spousal visa.”
“Yeah, that one. You can tell him how you got to Cancun, how I found you…” She glanced over and added, “…without telling him I tried to pick you up.”
The sparkle in his eyes told her that he’d known that was her initial intention. That interaction could have gone so differently if…
Let it go. Don’t think about it.
“You can talk about Keith, Brazil, how I went down to get you once the visa was in place. All the normal aspects of my job, which he knows.”
He turned in his seat, studied her for a minute, and asked, “Has he ever interviewed you?”
“Here and there. Nothing in-depth. Just called and asked, on the record, about a particular player, injury, draft, trouble, like the guys playing video games in the clubhouse. This year it won’t be a problem. They’ve been banned.”
Most of the teams were doing the same. They were found to be not only a distraction from the game in play but was causing physical disabilities with fingers, hands, wrists and arms. They wanted the clubhouse to be a cheering squad, not a gaming hall.
“You have lived with players before?”
She vigorously shook her head. “No. You’re a first.”
They’d signed other men who’d had language problems or culture shock, but they’d hired someone else to shadow them. She’d been a key component in Mateo’s signing since the beginning, and Dan thought he’d feel more comfortable with her. If her boss had a devious nature, she would have thought it had to do with punishing her for what she’d done, showing her just how wrong she’d been to hitch her wagon to this shooting star. But he didn’t, so she was unsure…
“First Cuban or first live-in situation?”
“Both.”
He looked surprised but pleased.
“Your father knows this. That you’re living with me?”
“That’s what prompted his call. He’d heard through his grapevine that I am.”
“He will be upset?”
“Why would he be?”
Her parents had stopped worrying about her after the debacle with Steve. There’d been no need. She’d avoided relationships like the plague.
“Will he give me a warning, like Mac did?”
What?
“What did Mac say?”
“That I shouldn’t violate you.”
She’d never given that a thought. Mateo wasn’t like that. She’d never felt anything but safe in his company. He was a gentleman in every sense of the word. It was one of the reasons she’d gone ahead with the scheme.
“Why would he think you’d do that?”
Then the underlying meaning of that flashed.
“How does he even know? Did you—”
“I said nothing. Dan told him.”
What the fuck?
How many people was he going to share the news with? She was going to have to talk to him, and it wouldn’t be pretty if he intended to spread it further.
Mateo said generously, “Mac said it was a need to know.”
She didn’t see that at all. It wouldn’t change Mac’s game plan, wouldn’t have any bearing on Mateo’s contract or playing time. Did he want Mac to keep an eye on things? On Mateo’s behavior?
He must have read the anger that was simmering.
“They are worried about you. I appreciate their concern.”
She didn’t. This was her business, even if it was a misguided mistake and it was up to her to figure things out.
She reiterated what she’d said earlier. “I don’t want my family knowing. There’s nothing between us and I don’t want them thinking there is.”
Her father wouldn’t be surprised but he’d think she’d lost her mind. Her mother would have some kind of sage advice for her. Probably try to talk her into making it real, but there was no way she was walking on steppingstones marked, married, separated, married, divorced, back together.
“There’s actually a marriage certificate between us, but I’ll keep my lips sealed if that’s what you want.”
The song by the Go-Go’s started playing in her head. If this got out, people would talk. Problem was it wouldn’t be a careless lie, and she’d look like a complete idiot.
When she glanced over, Mateo’s face in shadow, she amended that. What woman wouldn’t fall for his good looks and his toned body? And when did she ever give a damn what people said? It had more to do with feeling the fool because of a man again. It had happened once, and she refused to let history repeat itself.
When she pulled up to the updated cape, which was nestled in a conclave of six other similar houses, small in comparison to some of the stately mansions that had sprung up over the last dozen years, something clicked in her chest. She was home. The look of pure bliss on Mateo’s face had to mirror her own. He scrambled out, inhaled the salty sea air. The gulls squawked in the frigid blue sky, and waves lapped against the stone retaining wall.
All irritation evaporated the instant she stepped out of the car, the water the first thing her eyes were always drawn to.
His voice was animated when he asked, “You grew up here?”
She took in the green space that surrounded the house, the blue ocean just beyond that always connected her to her roots. For as much turbulence as she felt over the years with the ins and outs of her parents’ marriage, walks along the beach, sitting quietly out on the deck quieted her mind and made all things right. Her mother’s grandparents had lived here and when they passed, Ida and Bob had purchased it from the estate right after they got married. It had become as much Bob’s as Ida’s, and when she left for that brief stint as someone else’s wife, she never thought about telling him to move. With her stone pottery barn on the premises, she never left for long.
“I lived here right up until college.”
“You have a dock and a sailboat. Do you know how to navigate it?”
“I grew up sailing. I used to have a small catamaran that I took out every weekend. The first time Casey went out with me, she was green at the gills. She got used to it after a while, but I don’t think she ever really enjoyed it. She used to be a real scaredy-pants.”
“I would not be green at the gills if you took me out.”
“Maybe, this summer. If… Maybe this summer.”
He was scanning the horizon and she noticed when he locked on a target.
“There are boats across the way. Do people fish here for a living?”
“They do. Have for generations. My mother’s ancestors did. There are a lot of famous stories about ships sunk, fishermen drowned. There was a movie that made us famous for a while. It was crazy with curiosity seekers.”
She only noticed her father standing at the door when he yelled over at her, “What are you waiting for? It’s cold out there.”
She yelled back, “It’s stimulating.”
“So’s a lightning storm but who wants to get caught in it?”
She gave Mateo a smile and asked, “You ready to meet the family?”
From the expression on his face, she knew he was taking this time to meet the folks seriously. She should be regretting this, but she wasn’t.
Her father held the screen door open for them and let it snap closed when they were inside.
“Mateo Alvarez, it’s great to meet you.” He was shaking the man’s hand as if he thought he was in for the scoop of a lifetime.
She shrugged out of her coat and said, “Hi, Dad. It’s good to see you, too.”
He leaned in and ki
ssed her cheek. “Allie, love. So glad you could come.”
She pursed her lips, a smile twitching at the corners. “I’m sure you are.”
“I can’t believe it, actually, but I never look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“Might get bitten?”
Her mother entered the room, wiping her hands on a towel. She put it under her arm before she embraced her daughter.
“I’m so glad you came out.”
Alicia gave her father a smirk. “At least someone’s glad to see me.”
“Don’t you dare pout. You know you light up my life.”
“Bringing the light bulb didn’t hurt that cause, did it?”
Ida studied the new Greenie for the briefest of moments before she broke into a grin. “I’d say more like the sun. Hello, Mateo. Welcome.”
She looked at her daughter and said, “You might want to show him around before your father gets his claws in him. Dinner’s in an hour, which gives you very little time to show him there’s more to this place than an office.”
Bob was reaching out to take Mateo’s coat, Allie’s already thrown carelessly over the back of a chair, but before he shrugged it off, he asked, “Can I see the beach?”
Bob wasn’t letting him get away that quickly. Taking a few steps down the hall, he said, “You can get the inside and outside tour later, after dinner, before you leave. The stars will be out by then and it will add more to the experience.”
Mateo turned to look at her as if asking permission to follow her father.
She nodded. “He’s right. It’s better when the stars are out. Besides, I’d like to get rid of the chill in my bones first.”
She was rubbing her hands up and down her arms trying to do that. She should have thrown on a sweatshirt or sweater before leaving, but the excitement about showing him her hometown was uppermost in her mind. She’d have to look at that more closely later.
Her mother was waiting by the doorway. “Come into the kitchen. I’ve got some wine chilling.”
The wine was the perfect way to coax her in, although a hot cup of coffee might have been the better remedy. Her mother began to rub her back as soon as she was close enough to do it.
“He’s a good-looking young man. And, I sense, a good one.”
Looking back through the empty doorway, Allie asked, “You think so?”
Her mother had the oven open and was bending down to check the bubbling casserole. As soon as the question was out, Ida straightened and met her gaze. “Yes. Why? Is it important that I do?”
She gave a shrug and said as non-committal as possible, “Maybe.”
She wanted to think they’d be friends for life, if that was even possible. She still had hopes for a full-blown affair once the divorce was behind them.
Her mother held her gaze a moment too long, and then a smile emerged.
“From what your father tells me, you’re living with him.”
Letting her mother see the possibilities here had been a mistake. She needed to get off the carousel of indecision before she really did something stupid. Taking a leap to more solid ground, she said, “Part of the job. We don’t want any trouble with the change in circumstance.”
“Part of the job? I know you’re dedicated but since when does it include cohabitating with a man?”
She took a generous sip of the sauvignon. “Separate bedrooms.”
“Mm. I’m sorry to hear that.”
She choked as another sip slid down the wrong pipe. She began to cough, her eyes tearing in the process, and her mother patted her back until it subsided.
She said innocently, “It’s been a long time since you’d had some fun, Allie. I say go for broke with this one.”
“I can’t do that, Mom. My job—”
“Allows you to meet some very interesting men, and when they look like that one does…woohoo… I say take advantage.”
After the shock of that statement wore off, Allie was suddenly filled with curiosity and asked, “Is that what made you leave Dad? An interesting man?”
Her mother flashed angry eyes in her direction. “I didn’t leave for a man. I left for myself. I spent my life taking care of people and I needed… some time away from that.”
Allie knew it had been her mother’s job to take care of her brothers and sisters while she was growing up, then her mother when she got sick.
Ida sighed. “Three kids in five years wasn’t smart.”
She supposed that was true. It had to have been hard to maintain a life of her own with so much responsibility on her shoulders. She’d had no help from her husband. There was one question that burned in her curious mind and she finally asked it.
“Why did you get divorced and remarry?”
Jasper of all people. He wasn’t what you’d call a catch.
“He stayed home nights, didn’t travel for eight months out of the year. Stupid mistake. I cared for him, but…he was boring. It took me too long to realize I’ll never love anyone the way I love your father.”
“Is that why you had Scarlett?”
She came over and patted Allie’s cheek. “It is. Bob gave me such incredible babies. You all grew up well in spite of me.” She picked up her wine and took a sip. “Don’t make the same mistake I did, my love, and ignore what’s right in front of your eyes. It wastes so much time.”
She turned away from the conversation and re-opened the oven. A rush of hot air came steaming out.
“It smells good. What did you make?”
“Lobster casserole.”
Her taste buds woke up and she realized she was ravenous. She also knew it would be a long time before her father let Mateo out of his clutches.
“Have any cheese and crackers?”
“I can do better. I have some stuffed top-neck clams and crab cakes. Why don’t you make up a dish and take it into the office? If you’re hungry, I have to assume Mateo is, as well.”
Allie opened the refrigerator and fingered out a couple of beers. “I’ll take these along as well.”
Her mother took down one of her hand-made platters off a shelf and arranged an assortment of finger food on it. After popping a clam in her mouth, Allie warned, “Save some for me.”
“Don’t worry. I made plenty.”
“Where’s Scarlet?”
“At a friend’s. She didn’t know you were coming but she’ll be back for supper.”
She hadn’t seen her sister since Christmas, and she’d missed her. It was only the fact that Mateo was here, meeting her parents, with a potential bombshell of a secret, that she hadn’t noticed that Scarlet wasn’t around.
“Here. Now go.”
She did as told, just like she had when she was nine. It wasn’t often she was given any task that would send her into her father’s private domain.
She knocked and entered without any encouragement.
“Mom sent this in. Thought you might be hungry.”
Mateo was standing at her father’s bookcase. It was stuffed to overflowing with sports biographies, stacks of old magazines, and there was a shelf dedicated to his awards, one of which was in Mateo’s hand. There was a couple of framed jerseys hanging on the wall, one of the legendary Gil Demers, a Greenliner who played back in the fifties and sixties and up until a couple of years ago, was a special assistant to the team. There was a hockey stick signed by Bobby Orr hanging there as well, and a Patriots football, signed by Brady, that sat on what resembled a pedestal. Bob Nilsson was an all-round Boston sports fan and this room was a testament to that.
Mateo glanced over at her and grinned.
“I am being interviewed by one of the best. You didn’t tell me this.”
“He won a couple of Sportswriter of the Year awards, not just that one.”
Bob pointed to a ball enclosed in a glass case. “That’s one of Mac’s homerun balls, one he smashed into kingdom come during one of the championship series games. Maybe if you ever crack a hit that clutch, you’ll pass it along for my shelf of fame.”
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br /> “I could do that. My mother will get the first, then, perhaps, my wife, if she wants one. You will definitely get the third.”
Her father’s ears perked up at that.
“You’re married? No one said.”
Mateo must have noticed she’d paled and said quickly to correct the assumption, “Perhaps by the second one, I will be. I have to be prepared.”
She gulped, snuck a peek at her father to see if he bought it. There was a casual smile on his face and no sign of suspicion. Why would there be? Not in a million years would his mind go down that path. She had to relax.
“I think Allie would agree with me on this, that clutch hits will be a regular occurrence for you.”
He tilted his head at her, his eyes piercing in their intensity. “If you are both right, and I am not in a committed relationship by then, it is yours.”
She finally placed the platter down on a round table next to her father’s desk and handed over the beers.
“I’ll let you get to it.”
Her father snagged her arm. “Before you leave, can I ask you a couple of questions?”
She gave him a skeptical look. “About?”
“Your development plan for him. What improvements can be made by a man who was born to hit?”
She’d asked herself that same question and hadn’t come up with an answer yet. Did she admit that here? To both of them?
As if Mateo sensed her disquiet, he answered for her. “There are always ways to take it to the next level.”
Bob was interested enough to ask, “In what way?”
“Pitchers will soon figure out which pitches I hit well and will stop throwing them. My job will be to find new pitches to like. There will be trial and error involved until I do. Then they’ll adjust again. It will be a season-long job.”
The interview seemed to have officially started, so she slipped out, closing the door behind her. His answer had been well-reasoned, and she’d be adding it to the plan once she got up the nerve to sit down and write it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bob sat in his swivel chair, a notebook in his hand.
“Take a seat, Mateo, and enjoy some of Ida’s delicious food.”
He did as suggested, in a chair by the window overlooking the harbor, bay or whatever they called it here. He popped one of the clams in his mouth and took a swig of beer to chase it with. He ate more squid at home, but these were fleshy and delicious. He could get used to eating like this.