by Magan Vernon
I rubbed the back of my neck, searching for the right reply. The man basically just talked down to me like I was some poor little redneck. I didn't need his handouts, nor did I want them, but I had to play nice.
"Thank you sir, we appreciate your kindness, but I think we're good for now."
By the time we had the plywood base cut and screwed in, Libby had finally crawled out of bed.
I would have complained, but when I took one look at her wet blonde hair falling over her sun-kissed shoulders, I couldn't help but smile.
"Look who's finally up!" Dad said, enveloping Libby in a big hug. He always had a soft spot for the "Yankee Princess" as he called her.
"Yeah and since it looks like I'm not getting into the kitchen, do you want me to run into town and grab breakfast?"
I couldn't help but smile. It was good that she was remembering to eat. On more than one occasion I'd noticed she'd forgotten to eat dinner so I'd suggest late night pizza or a run to Sam's Drive-Thru. She never turned it down.
"Yeah, that sounds great, baby." I leaned over and kissed her forehead.
She wrinkled her nose and wiped a slick streak from her forehead. "You are one sweaty beast."
I picked up the corner of her tank top and wiped my face. She squealed and pulled back, giggling. "Oh my god! That's so gross!"
"You know you like it!" I pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her waist.
She squirmed against me. "Ew, no. You're so sweaty. I feel like I'm taking a sticky shower."
I gave her another quick kiss on her forehead, then let her go. "All right, all right. You win. Go get me a root beer and a breakfast burger. Once we get this granite in, I can maybe take a shower."
She laughed. "Yeah, you definitely need it."
She grabbed her keys from the hook near the fridge and headed out the front door.
I turned back to the counter and no sooner had I screwed in another nail was Libby yelling over the sound of the electric drill.
I whirled around to see her standing there with a big smile on her face.
"Back so soon?"
"Yeah, the UPS guy is here with a big delivery and I can't carry it."
I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't expecting anything else to come in for the remodel, but there could have been something I missed.
The brown truck was backed up to the house and the guy lifted up the back. I think his name was Steve or maybe Dave. He was a few years older than me in school and even at his age, he still had a face like a cherub.
"Hey, Blaine, got a big order here."
I wiped my face and hopped off the porch. "All right, man, I'll help you out."
He got in the back of the truck and pushed a large rectangular box forward. "This is the first one. It's a bit awkward and heavy as all get out."
"Okay." I held onto the back of it and pulled as he pushed it out before he jumped off the tailgate and we shuffled it to the front porch. This was followed by six more boxes.
"Damn, Blaine, what are y'all doing to the house?" Steve, or whatever, asked as we set the last box on the porch.
I shrugged. "A lot. I'm just not sure what this is."
"Must be pretty fancy if it's from Pottery Barn," Steve said, whistling through his teeth.
Libby's ears perked up and she examined the packages. "Pottery Barn? Did you order me furniture and not tell me?"
I shook my head. "I wish I could say I did."
"Well, I'll let you two lovebirds sort this out. Have a good day!" Steve, or whatever, said before he was off.
"Do you have your pocket knife on you?" Libby asked.
"Uh, yeah, always do." I brandished it from my pocket and she took it, slicing open the first of many packages.
There were a bunch of pieces of white wood with a note on top of it. Libby picked up the note and scanned it before covering her mouth. "Holy shit."
"What? What is it?" I asked, scooting closer to her.
"It's from my mom. She bought us all the furniture for Mathieu's room."
"No shit?" I stared at the paper and read the note.
Sorry we couldn't make your baby shower. Hopefully this set will make up for it.
Love you,
Mom and Dad
I was speechless. I didn't know if it was a compliment and something they were doing for their baby girl, or if it was just another dig at me. That I couldn't afford the nice things for her.
Libby squealed, reading over the paper. "It's the entire Gemma campaign! Crib, changing table, nightstand, and dresser! Oh the wingback rocker and the bedding with the little alligators printed on it and curtains to go with them! This is awesome! One last thing we have to buy! Can you and your dad put it together once you're done with the countertops?"
She stared up at me, the biggest smile on her face that I'd ever seen.
I wanted to ask why she was so happy when just a few months ago she was telling them that we wanted to do this all on her own. Why considering it a "gift" made any difference. But seeing her so happy, shut all that down.
"Yeah, baby, I'm sure Dad and I could do that."
***
Dad and I didn't get done with the countertops until after lunch. The furniture in the baby's room didn't take as long as I thought it would, but still was one hell of a job.
Dad and I stood in the doorway with Libby in the middle of the room. She twirled around, flitting from the white crib to the large dresser and changing table, then sat on the wingback rocker for a few beats before jumping up again and running her fingers over the blanket with the tiny alligators printed on it that read "Mathieu" in blue stitched letters.
"This is beautiful. Thank you guys so much for putting it together," she said, turning toward us with tears in her eyes.
"Think nothing of it, darlin'. I'm just happy to be here to help," Dad said, embracing her in a big hug.
"But I'd better get going. Your Ma's probably wondering where the hell I am."
"Are you sure you don't want to stay? I'll order pizza," Libby asked as she let go of him.
He shook his head. "Naw, better eat something a little better. Vicki's been getting on me about my cholesterol and I'm sure the sausage and bacon this morning did me in."
"Are you sure?" Libby asked.
Dad smiled and patted her on the shoulder. "I'm sure."
"Well, thank you, Art. You really helped us a lot today."
He was talking to Libby, but looked directly at me. "Parents would do anything that's best for their kids."
Chapter 9
Going back to work after a long weekend sucked. But it sucked even more that it was the first day of my new job in New Orleans.
I left even earlier than usual. Libby was still sound asleep, curled up on her side with a set of pillows between her legs.
I would have given anything to be that pillow instead, but if she wanted things like new furniture, I had to take this job. I had to prove that I was the man who could provide for her.
It was still dark out as I drove my truck down the highway. None of the shops were open when I pulled into a small strip mall for one of those chain coffee places.
I would have just brought my normal Thermos of coffee and lunch, but I was too damn tired to even think about it and Libby still hadn't gone grocery shopping to restock our fridge. I needed to text her later to remind her to do that.
I stepped inside and stared at the menu board in front of me. Five dollars for some fancy coffee? Man, how did girls buy this shit all the time?
I ordered a large black coffee and some kind of breakfast sandwich thing and inwardly cringed when I pulled the large bill out of my wallet.
But nothing could make me cringe more than the person I saw when I stepped around the counter to wait for my order.
"Hey, I've never seen you here before,;slumming it in New Orleans?"
Julie's voice was perky. Too perky for this early in the morning.
She was wearing a purple button down shirt with a knee-length skirt and her hair
pulled back into a tight bun. She looked like a professional. Or maybe one of those professional looking women in porn videos.
"I have a job on the new toll going in," I muttered, before yawning. Damn, I was going to have to start going to bed earlier.
"Oh, that's really cool. I didn't know you were working out this far. We should do lunch sometime."
I shook my head. "Naw, I usually have lunch real quick on site, then get back to work."
The guy behind the counter called both our names and set down my coffee and sandwich and some frou frou blended drink with a lot of whipped cream for Julie.
"Okay, how about having your cup with me now then? I have a few minutes to spare."
I looked at the guy behind the counter who wiggled his eyebrows then I rubbed the back of my neck as I turned to Julie and walked toward the door. "I don't know. I don't want to be late for my first day."
"Well, what time you do start?" She blinked those big green eyes at me.
"Seven."
Shit. I should have lied and said earlier, but my reflexes weren't on point that early in the morning.
She smiled and put her hand on my elbow. "Then we still have time for a quick cup. Please, Blaine? I just want to talk."
Her touch didn't give me the same tingles that it used to. That girl used to have a direct line to my libido, but then again I was a horny ass teenager when we dated. But even though there wasn't a spark, that didn't stop me from answering the thing I shouldn't have said.
I sighed. "Okay, one quick cup."
The smile broadened on her face and I followed her to a set of polka dot chairs in the corner. She took a long sip of her drink and crossed one leg over the other. "So, how long are you going to be working in New Orleans?"
I shrugged. "Whenever the job is done or they reassign me. It could be a few years. A few months. More than likely a few years."
She nodded. "Wow, that's going to be a long time to be away from Elsbury."
"Yeah, not too bad. This early it only takes me about forty minutes, if that."
She took another long sip of her drink. "What does Libby think about that?"
"She's fine with it."
"Libby really does seem like a nice girl, even though she hates me."
I laughed. "Can you blame her? You're kind of my cheating ex."
She winced. "I guess I deserve that, but to be fair, you may have not cheated with another girl, but I would say I was second in your life to your boys and baseball."
I couldn't help but laugh at the stupidity of comparing her sleeping with someone else to me and baseball. "Wow, that's a good one, Jules."
She shook her head and looked down at her hands. "I'm serious, Blaine. Half of our relationship was me sitting on the bench while you practiced, then sitting again at Sam's while you and your friends talked about stupid shit. If I was lucky you might fool around with me in the cab of your truck until my curfew. But that was it. We never talked. When we did it was mainly you talking about baseball."
"Oh, come on, I wasn't that bad and even if I was, I was young and stupid. What else was there to talk about besides baseball and our friends?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. You never really asked what I wanted. Do you even know why I chose to go to Ole Miss? Or that I actually hated being a cheerleader, but I was afraid I'd ruin my reputation if I quit the squad, even though the girls were bitches? No girl wanted to hang out with me because I spent so much time with you that there wasn't room for anyone else."
I blinked and went to shake my head, but the more I thought about it, the more that did make sense.
"Blaine, are you even listening to me?"
LSU was up by one and Ole Miss' best batter was up to bat. I didn't want to miss the play so my eyes were glued to the TV, even though Julie was shoving my arm, trying to get my attention.
"Yeah, hey, let me just watch this play."
The batter swung and the crack of the bat rang out before the ball went wide and into foul territory.
"Hell yeah. If that's the only thing he hits, I'll be happy."
The screen went black and I gasped without even thinking about what I was doing and turned to Julie, who sat with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed. "Blaine, I'm trying to talk to you! Seriously, this is my last night here and all you want to do is watch a dumb game."
I shook my head and let out a single laugh. "It's not a dumb game. It's a very important game for LSU and they happen to be going against your college. Better brush up on your Crimson Tide, ma'am."
I poked her in the ribs and tickled right under her breastbone for good measure, but she didn't laugh. She didn't even crack a smile.
"Blaine. Seriously. I'm not going to see you for weeks and you've barely even looked at me all night."
"That's not true. We just went out to dinner and I've been with you since the moment I got off work."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, dinner at the drive-thru where you tried to feel me up the entire time, then the waitress flirted with you. And before that, it was a lot more groping and you getting interrupted every two seconds by texts from your friends asking if you were coming by."
"I know what this is..."
I scooted closer and put my arm around her. "You think I'm going to replace you with another woman while you're gone. I can promise you that you're my only girl, Jules."
She shoved my hand off. "Are you seriously even listening? That's not what I said at all!"
I groaned. "What do you want me to say? Can we just not fight? It's our last night together before you leave. I promise, this game only has a few more innings then we can watch whatever you want."
She sighed but nodded. I would have tried to figure out what was bugging her, hell, maybe even just gone down on her to see if that made her smile, but I really didn't want to miss the game.
"You're the best." I leaned in and kissed her cheek, then took the remote and turned the game back on.
***
I was the youngest guy on site. It was one of the longest and most grueling days of working in the Louisiana heat.
Which made my day all that much worse.
All I could think about was what Julie said.
Was I really that bad of a boyfriend?
Hell, was I an even worse husband?
I didn't even notice the radio wasn't on when I drove to the high school in Elsbury. I parked and went to turn down the dial and stared at the blank screen.
Slowly, I rested my head against the steering wheel. Was I doing the right thing? Was it even worth it?
I rolled up my shirt sleeves. I didn't have time to run home and shower, so I'd changed into a button-down shirt and my khakis in the back of my car. I'd also put on a second coat of deodorant and the expensive cologne that Libby's sister got me for Christmas. Damn, now I really was smelling like a teenage boy. I didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing for getting the job.
"Okay, Crabtree, you can do this. You want this. You finally get to get back on the field."
I shook my head. Shit, now I was talking to myself? Maybe I'd had too much sun.
While work in Elsbury was breezy, in New Orleans I was the youngest guy by at least ten years and as the new guy, I had to do the grunt work. My hands were hurting and my muscles ached, but I wasn't going to pansy out.
Slowly, I got out of the car and stretched. School was still out for the summer, but the parking lot was packed with football players in for two-a-days. I sure as hell didn't miss that. At least with baseball we didn't start until the winter and that was just for indoor batting practice.
But I did play football. And that did take up my life for six months, then baseball did.
Maybe Julie was right.
I shook my head, even though I didn't say the feelings out loud. I couldn't think like that. I had to keep my head out of the clouds. This was game time and Coach would know if I didn't bring my best plays.
I crossed the paved parking lot and opened the doors closest to
the gym. Coach's office was right outside of the boy's locker room, and I cringed from the familiar scent of too much men's body spray and sweat. I'd spent way too much time against the gray metal lockers, staring at the chipped green walls.
I'd also spent a lot of time in Coach's office. I knew the place well.
Three of his walls were covered in glass and faced the rest of the locker room. It was a small room that was crammed with a large metal desk and some folding chairs. Framed newspaper clippings and trophies covering the little bit of wall space.
Coach was hunched over his desk, his familiar LSU ball cap on his head as he stared down at some papers in front of him.
I knocked for formality, but I knew I could just walk in. I'd always done it.
Coach looked up and smiled, waving me in. "Crabtree, glad you made it!"
He stood up and we briskly shook hands. "Take a seat." He pointed toward one of the folding chairs across from him.
"Thank you, sir," I said and sat down.
Coach laughed. "Don't give me that 'sir', shit, Crabtree. I rode your ass for four years and now you're a grown ass man coming in for a job interview. You can still call me Coach or hell, you can call me Rene."
I smiled. There was no way in hell I could ever get used to calling the man by his first name. "Okay, Coach."
He sifted through the papers on his desk, then folded his hands on top of him. "Now you know this is just a formality to have you come in for the assistant job. I saw you out on the field with Brady Preston and I've seen you on the field as a pitcher. We both know you have the talent for it and no one else could compare."
I blinked hard. I wasn't expecting him to say any of that. Sure, I knew I was a great pitcher, but never expected Coach to actually admit it or to think I could be an assistant coach.
"The assistant position doesn't pay well. Actually, it barely pays anything. I was able to talk to the school board about giving a small stipend since you have a baby on the way."
I nodded. "Thank you si— I mean Coach."