A couple of months later she discovered she was pregnant and had tried to locate him, but her memory of that night and the party was hazy. All she could remember was that his name was Kirk; he was in the military and had confessed to being nervous about being deployed soon. She’d asked a few people who’d been at the party if they knew him, but no one had ever seen him before. She’d concluded that he was probably visiting someone in Barstow, had tagged along with them to the party and then left shortly afterward. She’d never seen him again. It was as if he’d disappeared into thin air.
“Has Danny ever asked about him?”
Amy wrapped her fingers around her coffee cup and nodded. “A couple of times. I told him his father went to fight in the war and didn’t come back.”
So far Danny had been content with that answer. But someday her son would want to know more about his father and what would she tell him then? She supposed she could have tried harder to locate Kirk, but she was seventeen, pregnant, and overwhelmed at the prospect of being responsible for a child.
She’d never felt more alone in her life. And it wasn’t like she could confide in her Aunt Helen. The woman was fanatically religious and Amy was afraid of what her aunt would do to her if she found out Amy had not only slept with a guy but had gotten pregnant. She had been to one church service with Aunt Helen and had never gone back. She wasn’t sure what religion it was, but during the service the entire congregation had started talking in weird voices. The whole experience scared the crap out of her and when they finally got home, she and her aunt had gotten into a huge argument after Amy vowed to never step foot in the church again.
After that night Aunt Helen had no use for her and subsequently informed her that when Amy graduated high school she was on her own. Since her aunt barely paid attention to her, she was able to hide her pregnancy until she graduated in May. By the time Danny was born in late August, she was staying with a co-worker from the diner who needed a roommate and didn’t mind having a baby around. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but she’d managed to scrape by.
“Are you working at Stylus tomorrow night?” Jade asked.
“No,” Amy said, grateful for the change of topic. “Brock called yesterday. There are only a few reservations and Cynda and Ronnie wanted to work so I got the night off. I’m working Saturday night, though.” Amy sipped her coffee, and then broached the subject she hadn’t stopped thinking about since last weekend. “Rick Taylor asked me to have coffee with him.”
Jade’s eyes widened. “What did you say?”
“That I’d think about it.” She let out a sigh. “But I can’t.”
“Why not? Rick’s a nice guy.”
“Maybe, but he asked out Amy from Stylus. That’s not the real me.”
“Umm. Yeah, it is. A wig and a boatload of makeup doesn’t change who you are.”
“He’ll recognize me from Logan-Johnson.”
“So what? You worry way too much about that if you ask me. I doubt Adam or Nick would care that you supplement your income by working at the club. They know you’re a single mom. Besides, it’s not like Stylus is some sleazy strip club.”
“So if it was a strip club they’d have a problem?”
“Depends.” A mischievous smile crinkled the corners of Jade’s eyes. “Are you one of the strippers?”
Amy’s stomach tightened. “I’m serious. Look, I can’t afford to lose either job.” She set her cup on the table. “I like Rick and, yes, I find him attractive, but I can’t get involved. With anyone. I’ve got a plan, and thanks to you I’m on the right track.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Jade replied with a self-deprecating shrug.
“That’s not true. You put in a good word for me at L-J, and don’t tell me you didn’t talk your dad into renting me the apartment at a drastically reduced rate. People would kill to get a deal like that in the city.”
“Dad has always liked you, and he knew how hard it was for you after your father died. Besides, a temporary rental is the perfect situation for him right now. He and Mom are in the middle of converting another Victorian they bought into separate apartments so they’ve put off updating the apartments in ours. It was sitting empty and now he’s making a few bucks. It’s a win-win. Now quit changing the subject. Are you going out with Rick or not?”
“Not.”
Jade shook her head. “It’s just coffee.”
“That’s what he said.”
“And you don’t believe him?”
“What if it turns into more than coffee?”
“I think you’re getting ahead of yourself, but if it did, would that be so bad?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because every time I get involved with a guy it ends badly.” And if that wasn’t the understatement of the century, Amy didn’t know what was.
“Maybe you’re choosing the wrong men?”
“Exactly my point. I can’t be trusted when it comes to men. And if Rick Taylor is one of the good ones then he shouldn’t be with me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not. Trust me. Getting involved with me is the last thing Rick needs.”
Concern flickered in Jade’s eyes. “Are you in trouble? Is that why you want to move across the country?”
“No.” Amy shook her head. “There’s no…I’m not in trouble. I just want to make a fresh start. Leave the past behind.”
“You know, that’s a good idea in theory, but whatever problems you have will follow you wherever you go unless you deal with them.” Jade reached out and covered Amy’s hand with her own. “I know something happened in Barstow. Something you’re afraid to talk about. But maybe you need to talk about it with someone you trust. Someone you know is on your side.”
For a moment Amy considered spilling her whole sordid history in Barstow to Jade. Jade had been the first person she’d confided in when she was scared to death of her stepfather. But what good would it do? It wouldn’t change anything. The choices she’d made couldn’t be undone.
“Okay, I won’t pressure you,” Jade said when Amy remained silent. “But if you change your mind, I’m here. I care about you and Danny, and maybe it’s selfish but now that you’re finally back I don’t want you to leave. I missed you.”
Amy gave Jade a tremulous smile. “I missed you too.”
The day after Thanksgiving, Rick walked into his parents’ cheery yellow kitchen and nodded to his father who was sitting at the kitchen table reading the Statesman. Grabbing a cup from the cabinet next to the sink, he poured himself some coffee and then selected one of the gooey iced cinnamon rolls from the tin his mother had left out on the counter.
“Where’s Mom?” he asked as he set the roll on a small plate, snagged a fork from the drawer, and then carried his not-so-healthy breakfast and coffee to the table.
Walt Taylor glanced up from the paper and grinned, his bushy salt and pepper mustache hid the corners of his mouth. “Same place she is every Black Friday; in Austin, shopping with her friends from the book club.”
Rick had never understood the appeal of Black Friday. First off, shopping wasn’t high on the list of things he enjoyed, but to be subjected to it along with hordes of people was something to be avoided at all costs. It was like playing ball without wearing a jockstrap. Yeah, you could do it, but why the hell would you?
Taking a seat at the table, he dug into the cinnamon roll while his father resumed reading up on the latest happenings in the Austin area. After thirty years on the job as a deputy sheriff, Walt Taylor had retired last summer and, so far, seemed to be enjoying his newly retired status. Every week he and a few of his fellow retirees got together for lunch at Kreuz Market, hailed, for good reason, as one of the best barbeque joints in Texas.
Walt closed the paper, folded it in half, and laid it on the table. “How’s the training going?”
“Good. I’ve been working with Trey Gentry’s personal trainer. He changed up my routine and added in some mobilit
y exercises and joint integrity training.”
The furrows in his father’s forehead deepened. “What the devil does that mean?”
Rick pushed his empty plate to the side and picked up his cup. “In addition to weightlifting and cardio, I do more dynamic stretching and work with resistance tubing. The goal is to improve joint mobility and arm strength.”
“And your leg? Any problems there?”
“No. It’s completely healed. I don’t even think about it anymore.” Rick sipped his coffee. His father was in an inquisitive mood this morning. Which meant that any second now he’d get to the real question he wanted an answer to. It was a sheriff thing, or so he and his older brother Mike had always believed.
“You hitting the batting cages?”
“Yep.”
Walt leaned forward to rest his forearms on the table. “So, how’s your social life?”
Bingo. And there it was. “I keep busy.”
“Doing what?” Walt asked with a certain amount of skepticism. “You can’t work out all the time.”
“Do you want an hour by hour account?”
Exasperation flared in his father’s eyes. “No. I’m curious, that’s all.”
“Dad, are you trying in your roundabout way to ask if I’m seeing anyone?”
“Well, since you brought it up.” Walt grinned. “I reckon I was.”
Rick couldn’t help but shake his head. “I’m not seeing anyone. Yet.”
“Yet? What does that mean?”
“It means I asked a woman I met recently out for coffee after Thanksgiving. But she’s kind of skittish. I’m not sure it’s going to happen.”
“You like her then?”
“Yeah.”
“Well don’t spook her by coming on too strong. No one likes a stalker.”
Rick’s brows rose. “You’re giving me dating advice now?”
“Now don’t get up on your high horse there, son. You and Jill got together when you were teenagers. It’s not like you have a lot of experience with the opposite sex. I figure you could use some pointers. Even from an old geezer like me.” The sly quirk of his mouth caused his mustache to twitch. “Until your mother tamed me, I got around some.”
Rick winced and his hand shot up. “Spare me the gory details. I don’t think I could take it.”
“Copy that.” Walt chuckled, then quickly sobered as he studied Rick thoughtfully. “I’m proud of you, son. What you’ve faced would be enough to break any man, but you found a way to get through it. I know you’re worried about hurting Grady and Merilee by moving on, but starting over and finding someone else isn’t being disrespectful of Jill’s memory. That girl had a heart as big as the sky. She wouldn’t want you mourning her forever.”
“I know, Dad. Jill is the reason I’m playing ball again. She’d never forgive me if I wasn’t doing what I love to do.”
At noon, Rick borrowed his father’s truck. On his way to his brother’s house he took a detour to the cemetery. As he drove along the narrow gravel lane to the section where Jill was buried, he was surprised to find that the heavy blanket of sorrow that usually descended on him at the cemetery was noticeably absent. Due to his schedule with the Blaze, he hadn’t been to the cemetery since before he’d left for spring training last February. At the time he’d been a non-roster invitee and his performance during February and March would determine if he would make the team. Jill had been his inspiration to reclaim his career and he told her as much when he’d brought flowers to her grave before heading to the airport.
In the torturous year after her death, he’d visited the cemetery on a regular basis. At first, he’d sit for hours staring at her headstone. Then, when he’d started drinking heavily, he’d bring along a bottle or two of Jack and get rip-roaring drunk as he replayed their courtship and marriage over and over in his head. But no matter how many times he recounted the past or relived the happy memories, the end result was always the same; Jill and their unborn child were dead and his life was over. He couldn’t count the number of times his parents or his brother had found him passed out next to her headstone. That he’d put them through that worry was something he was still ashamed of.
After parking the truck on the side of the lane and grabbing the bouquet of flowers he’d bought at the florist shop, he trudged across the brown grass. The chilly fall air stung his cheeks and seeped through the fabric of his fleece jacket as he wound his way around the grave markers. The nearly barren tree limbs swayed gently in the breeze and the only sounds he heard were their branches scraping together like gritty sandpaper.
As it usually was, the area around Jill’s grave was well-tended. Grady and Merilee made sure of that. The upright granite headstone was modest compared to some others in the cemetery, and at the base, Jill’s parents had placed a miniature sculpture of a horse. Jill had loved riding and was an expert horsewoman. Her dream had been to one day open her own stable, where she would board horses and give riding lessons.
“Were your ears burning?” He brushed a few stray leaves off the top of the headstone, then crouched in front of it. “Dad and I were talking about you this morning. It’s getting easier to do that without…without feeling like I want to swear at God for taking you.” He laid the bouquet of white roses on the grass at the base of the headstone. “I’m working hard in San Francisco. Trey’s trainer is busting my ass and I can already see a difference. Between you and me, I have a damn good shot at beating out Dallas Bristow for the starting catcher spot in spring training.
“I know it’s been a while since I’ve been here, but since it’s because I’m playing ball again, I have a feeling you don’t mind.” He lightly traced the carving of Jill’s name with his finger. Underneath her name it read ‘Beloved by family, cherished by friends’. A nice sentiment, but it would never capture what Jill had meant to those who loved her. “If you’re watching over me, you know I asked Amy to have coffee with me. I gave her my number but I’m not sure she’ll call. She’s a mystery, but one I want to figure out. If that makes any sense.” His wry laugh floated into the air and disappeared with the breeze. “You’re the only one I can say this to, but I have no fucking clue what I’m doing. I never dated anyone but you, I never wanted anyone but you, and I sure as hell never thought I’d be with any woman but you.” Tears pricked the back of his eyes. He blinked them away, taking comfort in the fact that the thought of a life without Jill no longer crippled him. “This probably goes without saying, but if something does happen between me and Amy, or with anyone else, it doesn’t diminish what I felt for you. You’ll always be in my heart.” He pressed his fingers to his mouth and then to the headstone. “I love you, Cowgirl,” he whispered, then stood and made his way back toward the lane.
As he approached his dad’s truck, a white mid-size SUV pulled up and parked behind it. The windows were tinted, but Rick recognized the vehicle and despite the sudden churning in his gut, he waved and waited as Merilee Rollins turned off the engine, slid out of the SUV, and headed toward him.
Dressed in gray pants and a black jacket, Merilee carried a small bouquet of colorful flowers. She’d always been thin, but now she looked frail and much older than her fifty years.
“It’s good to see you,” she said, and after a quick hug, she took a step back and met his gaze. “I’m sorry Grady and I couldn’t stop by the house yesterday. We spent Thanksgiving with my sister and her family in Houston. They send their regards.”
“How are they?”
“Doing well. My niece and her husband just had another baby. A girl.” Merilee’s eyes shone with sudden moisture and her chin trembled. “They named her Jill.”
“Jill and Patsy were always close,” Rick said. “Jill would be pleased.”
“I agree.” Merilee lifted her free hand and wiped at the corners of her eyes. “We were surprised you decided to stay in San Francisco during the off-season. Are you going to live there permanently?”
“I don’t think so. But it’s easier being there whil
e I’m playing ball.”
“Don’t you mean it’s easier than spending time with me and Grady?” When he didn’t answer, she lifted an eyebrow. “You’re starting to forget her, aren’t you?”
The sadness in Merilee’s eyes hurt his heart. “She was too big a part of my life to ever forget.”
“But you’re moving on.” A gusty breeze ruffled her faded blonde hair over her eyes; she lifted her hand to push it aside. “I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be. You’ll get married again. Have a family. You’ll be happy, and that’s okay, it really is.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes. “But my sweet girl is gone. The baby she was carrying is gone. There’ll be no second chances for us. Whoever said time heals everything couldn’t have lost a child.” Merilee’s voice broke as the tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “There’s no getting over that. Ever.”
There were no words he could say to comfort her, so instead, Rick folded her into his arms and hugged her. She clung to him and cried against his jacket, her thin shoulders shaking with grief. “Why did she have to die?” Merilee whispered. “Why?”
Rick had asked himself that same question a million times. If only he’d picked up the milk that night. If only Jill hadn’t gotten upset with him for forgetting it and left the house to go pick it up herself. If only she’d worn her seatbelt. If only she hadn’t made an illegal turn in front of that truck. If only the paramedics had gotten to her quicker.
If only. If only. If only.
He’d lost a child too. The baby Jill had carried inside of her for four months had been real to him, to both of them. They’d already started turning the second bedroom in their house into a nursery. They had compiled a list of baby names and argued happily over their choices. But the baby hadn’t been old enough to survive, and he’d lost them both. Then he’d lost himself in alcohol and sorrow.
Putting distance between himself and Lockhart had been the right decision. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t help Grady and Merilee get over their loss. Merilee was right, he was moving on, and for the first time since he’d begun the process he didn’t feel guilty about it.
Playing for Keeps (Feeling the Heat Book 6) Page 7