“Yes!” I almost yelled my response. I was overly excited that he wanted to see me again so soon. “Of course I will!”
“Okay, I’ll make our chocolate while you check on Jenise.” His delicious smile bloomed.
I glided all the way upstairs. I was about to open my sister's door, when I remembered the monitors Mom had bought. Quietly, I snuck into my parents’ bedroom and grabbed them from underneath her bedside. I turned on the monitor, and put it on Jenise's nightstand. Just to be sure, I put her pocket mirror to her nose to watch the glass fog and lightly put my hand on her chest, making sure it rose as she took a breath.
While upstairs I decided I’d get out of my tight pants and changed into my pajamas.
Ah, so much better. I wonder if he might want some slippers. Dad is too small for Ryan to wear his stuff . . . maybe a robe?
“Hey,” I walked into the kitchen as he was pouring the hot chocolate.
“Everything o . . . oh, Nicky.” His eyes became hooded. "Is . . . is um, is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I remembered these monitors Mom bought for dad.” I held up the one I'd brought downstairs.
Are my pajamas turning him on? Boy, he gets excited so easy! How am I going to handle him?
“I left one in Jenise’s room and I'll keep one down here with us. I want to know—well, here.” I gave him the slippers and robe. “Do you want these?”
“Uh, not sure.”
“Why not?” I wanted to understand his rationale.
“If your dad comes down and sees me in them . . . I’ll take the slippers, I guess, but I’ll keep my jeans on.”
“Yeah, I can see your point.” I grabbed one of the cups of hot chocolate. “Let’s drink!”
We clanked the mugs and discussed our evening.
“Your voice is incredible. You really should explore doing something with it, even if it’s not professionally. Maybe the drama department at Stanford.”
“I’ll be so busy." I braided my hair. "I don’t want to screw up my first year . . . my charity work and all. We’ll see. What’s your relationship with Kevin? I know you two are good friends, but he seems to have genuine concern for you. In fact, I felt like you were brothers. I think he loves you.”
“We came up in semi-pro ball together. When I met him, his sweetheart back home had just dumped him.”
“Oh, poor guy.”
“We spent many a night in the bars talking about it."
"But you—"
"Back then we both drank some and at the stage when liquid courage kicked in, he opened up and told me his story."
"How come you don't drink now? I mean, I'm glad, but it's unusual for someone like you and in your position."
"My position?" His sly grin dared me to continue.
"Single, goes to social events, hits the clubs and all that."
"I don't like losing control," he confessed.
"Yeah, but—"
"Alcohol doesn't mix well with my body," he put his hand on mine, obviously not wanting to discuss it. "Anyway, Kevin's girl back home didn’t trust that he’d stay true to her. I kind of took him under my wing—actually, we were there for each other. He did the same for me when I talked about my dad.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen at the ballpark and at the table tonight, I can’t blame Kevin's ex,” I noted. "It's hard to have the kind of blind faith a woman needs to commit to you guys."
“What happened at the table?” He looked up as if he'd been smacked in his forehead.
Oh crap, I didn’t mean to say anything. Do I tell him what a jerk Henry was? Should I change the topic?
“Well, you know . . . all the women.” I covered my mistake.
“I know." He looked down. “Was there anything else?”
“No. Well, yes." I decided to be honest. "Um, a few of those guys, Henry for one—he’s an ass.”
“I know he is." His left hand fisted. "When we first approached the table and I stopped?”
“Yeah?”
“It wasn’t only because of Dana. I told you to stay away from him that day you sang the anthem. He was after you and pissed when he saw us talking in the tunnel.”
“You knew all that and yet you let me to face him." I shook my head, trying to understand his motives. "Why did you turn your back on me tonight? I mean for so long? I felt alone for so much of the evening.”
“Two things." His eyes saddened and he looked away before refocusing. "I really did have to talk with Glen. He was down on himself and considering a request to go back to semi-pro. I told him that was a death sentence and he shouldn't do that. I don't want to see a rookie make a mistake that could affect his career because of a moment that might pass." He brushed a crumb from the tabletop. "It's one thing if management sends you down, but to request it?"
"Bad move," I agreed.
"Really bad. The other thing, well first on Henry, I knew you could handle him."
"Yeah, but he said some bad stuff, Ryan. I wished you'd been present and attentive so you could have stopped it."
"What did he say?" His faced flushed.
"I'm not going to repeat the words. You can imagine some of them, can't you?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't think . . . with Kevin and the others so close . . . I'll handle him."
"No!" I begged. "Please don't start anything on my behalf. I didn't want to say anything for just this reason. Promise me you won't."
"The other thing," he avoided answering me like a panther glistening in the night, his eye on his prey, aware of all that was around him. "I wasn’t ready to face Dana and the history she shares with Jesse and me. She's . . . She's uh . . ." he let out a long sigh.
"Did you sleep with her?"
"No."
"What about Monica?" God, why did I go there?
"Nicky," his shoulders dropped. "Do you really want to quiz me on every woman you meet that I happen to know?"
"I can't answer that yet," I admitted.
"I'm not going to keep doing this with you. You have to trust me and let my past go. The answer is no."
"What?" I mocked. "You mean there's a woman you know—"
"Please don't." Blue eyes stilled me.
"Sorry." You don't understand the only way I can get through my fears is to joke or be sarcastic. How can I stop eighteen years of doing the same thing? “Um . . . I’m a little pissed.”
"I told Kevin to keep an eye on you to make sure you were all right. I knew Monica would be there and you could talk with her. If I had any doubt I'd never have taken the chance.”
“Well, okay, but that’s pretty ballsy! I mean you could have at least talked to me awhile before you turned away. And Monica didn't introduce herself until things got dicey with the Jesse conversation so . . ."
“I’m sorry. I knew Dana would bring up my past. It bothers you so much . . . I didn't know what to do. At least if I wasn't in the conversation I didn't have to go there." He paused. "Because I knew you'd make me go there. I don’t have all the answers.”
“Yeah, I know, but I can’t get a handle on you guys,” I mused. “When you talk to me at the ballpark everything seems good. Henry was once a nice guy. We talked quite a lot in the beginning. And now, Kevin seems nice, but is he? Or is it an act the same way Henry’s was?”
“Kevin’s genuine,” Ryan said. “Heart of gold. He’s been hurt, so the walls are up. He really loved Maryanne. It was a complete shock when she cut him off. He took a long time to get over her. Too long, I guess—if there is a such a thing.”
“He’s one of the wild boys along with you. I've been warned plenty about you guys. What did he expect? The girl back home is nothing compared to the models and socialites that you guys attract in pro-ball.”
“I’m not a wild boy,” Ryan said disgustedly. “And Kevin’s not either. Not really.”
“Yeah?” I lifted my chin a little. "That's why you've dated—"
“You’re doubting me?” He folded his arms on the table and rested his chin on them. The innoce
nt look in his eyes was endearing. Still, I didn't believe him.
“What about Jesse?” I ignored his question. “Dana said you guys were taken. What does that mean?"
“We worked events together. We weren’t looking to connect with anyone else because we were networking. We had a standing arrangement that way; Jesse knows a lot of people and so do I. We introduced each other at social gatherings and parties.”
“And what about the way you treated Dana?" The look in his eyes seemed to convey he was telling the truth. Still, I needed more evidence. "She was a friend who was once close to you both or at least to Jesse. Now she's cast off because you two aren't together? That's cold and . . . irrational.”
“I can't explain why Jesse stopped seeing her. For me, it was because I didn’t want to talk about Jesse in front of you. I was never Dana's friend. We just didn't connect in any way. In fact, I think it was pretty rude that she brought our history to your attention like that.”
“I guess so. Kevin thought so, too, but I don’t think she meant anything by it. On the other hand, sometimes I should be more suspicious of people. I don’t trust easily, but then again I do, or I want to at least, and . . . I don’t know.”
Maybe she meant more than I thought. Now that I’ve reconsidered . . . even if she didn’t know Ryan and I were seeing each other, she had to know we were on a date, right?
"I get confused about knowing who you can and can’t trust, too.” He held my hand. “I know I have to earn yours.”
"You're doing a damn fine job." I smiled and stroked his thumb with mine. “I didn’t know you could sing! You were, the way you did your song, you know—backing me up against the wall like that, you were so . . . well, I shouldn’t say this, but um . . . really sexy. You know, you make me want to tell you everything. It's like I can't keep anything to myself. And you know what? I've said to myself so many times how I wish you wouldn't say everything that's on your mind, and here I am doing the same thing. Anyway, your voice, well, truthfully, just you talking, you get me. Did you know that?”
Be careful about revealing too much, Nick.
“I can tell by your body language when you’re excited." his eyes danced with pleasure. "When I say something that stirs you up inside your pupils dilate and your body expands.”
“Well that’s not fair,” I laughed.
“I hardly think I’m much of a mystery to you, either.”
“No.” I smiled in amusement that he'd admitted how I could sense his “sexual aura,” the same way he could mine.
“So, school is starting pretty soon.” Ryan changed the subject.
"Yeah."
“Would you consider coming on the road with me? You know, I don’t mean the entire trip. A few games maybe?”
“Possibly.”
“You could bring Jenise if she makes you feel safer—or not. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
“It’s not that I don’t feel safe with you. It’s just . . . you don’t understand what a big deal sex is for me. Sex shouldn’t be so difficult; I know that. Jenise doesn't have a problem either. Everything seems easy for you guys. Crap, who am I kidding? Sex seems easy for just about everyone but me. I’m getting there, you know. You’re helping and Jenise is helping, too. I understand that I’m not the greatest person for you to be with. And that bothers me, too. Everything gets to me.”
“I understand you need time,” he agreed simply. “I’d like to help you get there. Will you let me?"
“I want that.”
Just then, Jenise started to cough. I ran upstairs and into her room. She had turned over and was already asleep. I checked to make sure she breathed freely and there was no vomit anywhere. When I went back down, I carried a blanket and pillow for Ryan. I placed them on the chair near the living room sofa where Sean was sleeping.
“Do you want me to stay down here with you?” I asked as soon as I walked into the kitchen.
“No, you can go ahead and get some sleep. I'll be fine. Once I know Sean’s okay I’ll take him home. I’ll leave tickets—”
“No railings, please. I enjoy the bleachers with the real fans. Okay boyfriend?”
“Bleachers it is. Give your man a goodnight kiss.”
“Gladly,” I put my arms around him. “You’re so, such a . . . I’m glad you’re my boyfriend. I really appreciate how you stayed with me tonight.”
“You’re welcome." His arms returned the embrace, lifting me off my feet for a moment. “You’re just upstairs, but in a way that’s worse. I’ll miss you.”
“Yeah, you’re right about that. I might be tempted to sneak down here and take a peek at you. I promise I’ll stay upstairs.” I grabbed the monitor and looked back at him. "Maybe."
“Not sure I'll get to sleep. I'll be listening for you. Dress casual tomorrow my adorable girlfriend. We'll head out after the game."
"Dress casual; now that I can do. Can't wait, Ryan."
With a long kiss, we said goodnight.
It was the sweetest kiss ever.
Chapter 23
Church And Doughnuts
As soon as I opened my eyes, I threw on my robe and hurried downstairs. I'd hoped to catch Ryan before he left but like a dream in the night, he and Sean were gone. The pillows and blankets were folded neatly on the sofa. I took them upstairs and put them back in the linen closet.
Dad came out of the bedroom, dressed and ready for wherever he was going.
“Where you headed?” I asked suspiciously.
“Church. What’s with the blanket and pillow?” he asked with a tone of doubt.
“Ryan slept over. He stayed downstairs while I slept upstairs.”
“Join me?” It seemed a look of relief washed over him as he asked for my company.
“Can you wait ten minutes?”
“Barely." He looked at his watch. “Hurry up.”
I threw on some slacks and a blouse, brushed my hair, and quickly wiped my face with a cotton ball soaked in witch hazel.
“Ready!” I shouted while running downstairs.
“You guys got back late? Your mom and I didn’t hear you.”
Just as well. That way you’ll never know Sean got drunk, which might put him in the doghouse forever.
“Yeah, we did. Are you going to the bakery after mass?”
“We could.” He smiled at my question, possibly remembering earlier days when he bought hot bread and warm doughnuts for us after church service.
“That would be great,” I patted his hand and quickly turned away before my tears betrayed me.
"Did you guys have fun last night? Everyone get along?"
"Yeah, it was a blast." Especially my boyfriend's song.
We drove to a modest looking Catholic Church across town, Our Lady of the Visitation. The church was beige colored and had a large round stained glass window under the steeple. A bell tower made it quaint and beautiful and when we arrived, they were ringing; the service was about to start.
Why he went all the way across town? I suppose it could have been that no one there knew of him or his addiction. I thought maybe it was that he considered each week a fresh start. At least doing it metaphorically, it could have given him some hope.
Dipping our fingers in the holy water on either side of the entry doors, we made the sign of the cross, blessed ourselves, sat in the back pew and joined in the opening hymn.
I hadn’t gone to Sunday mass with my dad for many years. Being with him when he was sober made everything seem possible. After the service ended, we drove to Hilda's, a bakery on Geneva Avenue. He picked up the twisty French bread Jenise loved and also a sweet loaf for my mother. I chose two glazed doughnuts and a coffee and downed them quickly on the way home.
“Thanks for inviting me.” I gave Dad a kiss on the cheek, knowing it might be the last time I'd see him sober that day.
"What are you doing today?" He avoided the emotion I’d just shown him, so typical of our family.
“Going to the Goliaths’ game and then out with R
yan afterward.” When his face curled down into a frown, I added, “Don’t ruin our morning with a speech. I know what I’m doing.”
“I hope so.” He gave in, letting drop whatever comment he had on his mind. Instead, he concentrated on making coffee.
It was barely eight in the morning. I had hours before Ryan's game started, so I decided to put on my sweats to go for a speed walk. I had to release some of my nervous energy. When I got back, I took a shower and opened my journal to try and catch up on the last few days. Around eleven, my cell phone beeped.
Ryan: Can’t wait 2 c u.
I typed: Me 2
I couldn’t help but break into a huge grin. Knowing that I was on his mind filled me up with happiness—too much to contain.
He replied: Ticket 4 u in will call—bleachers, as u ordered.
I sent back: Thank u. Luv sitting there! Xxoo.
He wrote: Come any time, earlier the better.
I couldn't wait to find out where we were going. I put on a clean pair of sweats, a T-shirt and tennis shoes, grabbed my backpack and jacket, and hopped the streetcar to the ballpark.
I’m meeting my boyfriend and he plays baseball, my favorite sport. How cool!
To continue the possibilities of change, after I got my tickets, rather than go through the bay gate as I usually did, I entered the stadium from King Street near the souvenir store. It was a silly gesture, but doing it reinforced how I felt.
I wonder if that's why dad goes to the church across town? Changing up the smallest of steps in his life . . .
When I walked in, the Goliaths were taking batting practice and Ryan was in the outfield. I watched him a few minutes, admiring how his fit body and long legs were packaged neatly in his uniform.
No wonder he attracts so many women. I hope he’s telling me the truth when he says he's not seeing anyone else. What a cute belly he has—all those firm muscles protecting him—yummy.
I grabbed a rice bowl and a bottle of water from one of the food kiosks and found my seat in the bleachers. As soon as I began eating, I heard my name. Ryan was at the railing.
Be careful . . . management might be watching. On the other hand, that's probably shot to hell after last night.
Jagged Heart (Broken Bottles Series Book 3) Page 16