Encroachment (Coach's Shadow Trilogy #2)

by Monica DeSimone

  “No, no it’s fine. Come in!” I can tell that she doesn’t want to have this talk but her pride won’t let her give in.

  Walking in, I make sure to leave the door to her office open, Claire doesn’t like to be in confined spaces. If I hadn’t broken into her therapist’s files I would have figured it out while walking through her home. Sitting down, I look over at the woman I have admired for years. With a nod her way, I say, “You wanted to talk to me?”

  “I, ummm, yes, I did.” She’s looking around her office, her comfort zone, gathering her strength and composure. With a huff of breath, she pushes on, “I’ve just kind of been thrown for a loop just now, so I’m not quite sure where to begin.” She looks down at her hands.

  “Would you prefer to do this another time?”

  Claire squares her shoulders and looks at me, and in that look I know the inner strength that helped her raise Sasha alone is still there. “Oh hell, Jackson, I’m not going to lie and pretend that my last visitor didn’t affect me. He did. And I am not going to insult your intelligence by saying nothing happened. You know me too well, see too much.”

  “You bet your ass I see too much, Legs. What did he want?”

  “To let me know that Sasha is an amazing kid. That he doesn’t have to fuck with me directly to fuck with me.”

  If I hadn’t learned years ago to rein my emotions in, this office would be destroyed. Al Pacino’s speech when defending Charlie in Scent of a Woman enters my mind. It’s one of my favorite movies and speeches. I’m too old, I’m too tired, I’m too fucking blind. If I were the man that I was five years ago, I’d take a flamethrower to this place! I inwardly chuckle at my own poor imitation of Pacino, and realize how my own temper has calmed over the years.

  Thankfully Claire is oblivious to my inner wreckage and continues on as though what she just said didn’t flip the table along with the fucking apple cart. I’ve missed something, I know that I have because when I snap out of my inner musings Claire is on a roll. She is magnificent in her anger.

  “Well I told him now, didn’t I. Bastard thought that he could intimidate me. Me!! ‘The McEvoy name isn’t what it once was. Who would believe you?’ Well fuck him!” Pushing away from her desk, Claire starts to pace the small space. “I mean really, Jackson, who does he think he is? And did you see the fucking linen suit? What man under fifty wears a linen suit?”

  Laughing at her last statement, I garner her attention. “What’s so freaking funny?”

  “I thought the exact same thing when I first saw him is all. I found it funny how our minds work similarly.”

  Claire looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind and walks back over to her desk, leaning one of those amazing legs onto it. She looks at me and shakes her head, then says, almost sheepishly, “We usually were on the same page weren’t we, Jackson.”

  Rubbing a hand over my head, because I need a haircut and the action soothes me, I say “Yeah, Legs, we are,” making it present tense instead of past. “As much as I want to know what you wanted to talk to me about, Claire, I think that we need to figure out what Brad’s next step is so that we are on the offense instead of always the defense.”

  “Jesus, Jackson, I don’t want to talk about Brad. He took too much from me and I’ll be damned if he takes one more thing from me,” she says in a rush and as though it has left a nasty taste in her mouth. “Let’s talk about why I asked you to stop by instead.”

  That’s my girl, right on cue, she’s sweeping all of the unpleasantness that is Brad right under the rug. Although this is an amazing oriental rug, it still doesn’t help fix the messed up situation that we have found ourselves in, yet again. Knowing better then to poke the beast, because once that animal is awoken there will be no stopping it, I decide to let it go, for now, for the better good.

  “Okay, Legs, why did you want to see me?”

  Taking the reprieve that I have given her, Claire says, “I was…I was kind of hoping that we could have dinner together…just you and me. A date.” She stands to her full height and walks back around her desk and sits down. In those short seconds that it has taken her to get back into her seat, she has regained some of the composure that she is known for. “I’ll even cook!” is her final plea.

  I sit up straighter in a chair I dwarf and attempt to get over the shock of Claire asking me out on a date. “When, Legs? You tell me when and I’ll be there.”

  Claire

  I’M STANDING IN the kitchen chopping vegetables for tonight’s dinner with Dallas and Legs basking in the fading light on the sunporch and Alexa playing music throughout the room, and I can’t help but feel both light and heavy at the same time. Light because I have finally worked up the courage to take this step with Jackson. Heavy because of Brad and his tossing the gauntlet down today. Sweeping that thought completely out of my mind, I refuse to let Bradford Callahan ruin one more minute of my day, more less dinner with my girls.

  But I know that I need to keep my eye on Sasha and Zoey. I may not always voice my concerns, who am I kidding, voicing my concerns and fears allows weakness in, and weakness is not acceptable. I need to strategize my next move when it comes to Brad. Just because I don’t voice my fears doesn’t mean I am going to be caught with my panties down, again.

  Although I hate even thinking about Brad, Jackson is right, we need to stay on the offensive. It’s going to take everything I have in me to remain calm, but what Brad seems to forget is that if push comes to shove, I will protect my daughter. I need to make sure that Sash has as minimal interaction with him as possible.

  The front door slamming against the wall pulls me out of my own head. Dallas and Legs take off to greet my guests.

  “Claire? I’m here and I’m starving! What do you have for a hungry, pregnant woman?” Zoey waddles toward me, and just the sight of her makes me chuckle.

  “God, you’re beautiful.”

  “For a beach ball with legs and a head. I swear to God I look like Kim Kardashian did during her first pregnancy. I’m just glad that I can’t see my thighs right now.”

  Laughing at my sister’s weight concern, because she is literally all baby, I say, “I have the meat bruschetta already made.” One sure fire way of getting Zoey off the amount of weight she feels she has gained is to offer her food.

  She makes a beeline to the kitchen island and snatches one of the few things our mother taught us how to cook, and shovels it into her mouth. With a moan of pure ecstasy, her eyes roll up and she is in heaven. “Jesus, have these always been this good?” Picking up another one, she pops it into her mouth, and follows up with, “I don’t remember these being this good.” Of course, this is said around an entire mouth full of food.

  Heading back over to the forgotten vegetables, I pick up the knife I discarded when Zoey came barging in and start chopping. “I thought you said that Derrick was bringing you by?”

  “Yeah me too. He got pulled into a last-minute receiver’s meeting, so I Uber’d over.”

  I shake my head at the sarcasm in my sister’s voice.

  “What?”

  “Nothing”

  “Claire!” Zoey whines. “Tell me what had you shaking your head. Please!”

  “I was just thinking how you fought so hard to not have anything to do with a professional athlete and now you’re married to one. And so very understanding about it all. You are more disgusted about having to take an Uber than you are about Derrick changing plans on you.”

  With a negligent shrug, Zoey says, “Ehhh, he sent flowers and apologized by telling me that he’d rub my feet when he gets home.”

  “Sucker.”

  “What? I like a good foot rub and Derrick is excellent at them. Plus, they always turn into a rubbing of my entire body. So win-win!”

  “For the love of God, do not go any further with that visual. I’ve worked too hard on this dinner to have it ruined with that.” Picking up another delicious crostini topped with cream cheese, ground beef, parmesan and mozzarella, I hand it to Zoey and f
inish up with, “In fact, just keep stuffing your face with the bruschetta.”

  “You can be such a prude sometimes,” she says, yet again, with her mouth full. It actually came out sounding like, “Eww aww e utch a dud umtems.”

  “It’s a good thing I speak pregnant.” With a laugh, I turn to grab the salad bowl that I had sitting by the sink and bring it back to my cutting station, and toss the fresh veggies in along with the arugula and mixed greens. “Do you want something to drink?” I ask.

  “No room. I already have to pee and I need to get in as much food before these kids make it unbearable to eat because they are sitting on my stomach.”

  “Thank you, again, Zoey for that lovely visual.”

  Dallas and Legs taking off toward the front door has me walking that way. With a quick “sit” they both do exactly as I say. I guess that Legs is rubbing off on my little girl. Dallas imitates her every move.

  Opening the door for Suzie and Ally is a whirlwind. Suz is a tiny tornado in her own right but adding Ally into the mix and it’s like a tsunami has just struck my home. The front door bangs against the wall, again, and in walks Hurricane Anderson. With Ally crying, her beautiful brown hair falling out of what I know was once a meticulous bun, Suzie says, “Take her,” as she walks by and all but shoves Ally at me.

  Sensing Ally’s unrest, Dallas and Legs inch over to us but know that there isn’t anything they can do to help her, so instead, they bail for the sunporch. Closing the door and locking it, thanks for the reminder, Jackson, I carry a screaming Ally into the kitchen. Pulling the highchair that I bought for times like this when Ally is here, as well as for Zoey’s babies, I secure the very unhappy toddler to the seat and scoot it closer to the granite island so that she is situated between her mother and godmother, and give her brown curls a tussle as I move to grab her a juice box out of the refrigerator.

  Odd thing is Suzie and Zoey are ignoring the screaming child between them. After placing the apple juice in front of Ally, I look over at the two grown women and say, “Would someone pick that baby up!”

  “No,” they say in unison and as a matter-of-fact.

  At my incredulous look, Suzie begins to explain why they are ignoring Ally. “She’s a beast, Claire. If she doesn’t get her way she is an absolute beast. The only thing she hates more than not getting her way is being ignored. So doting on the precious child doesn’t help. Actually it only makes her tantrum worse.”

  “Well okay then,” I say as if that actually makes sense. But apparently to my sister and friend it makes all the sense that is needed.

  But I’ll be damned if Ally doesn’t settle down within the next three minutes, wipes her runny nose with her arm, picks up the apple juice and taking a sip, smacks her lips together and says, “Doots.” It’s her nickname for Zoey and makes my heart melt.

  WE’RE THROUGH WITH dinner and are enjoying the strawberry-lemon granita that I made. Sasha is still a no show. I’ve texted her a couple of times but she hasn’t responded. With all that has happened over the past few days, to say that my anxiety is at orange level would be an understatement. The fact that Sash works for douchebag Brad only makes it worse.

  “O.M.G. Claire, you have done it again. I’m stuffed!” Suzie says as she pushes her dessert bowl away. “I still don’t know how you managed to perfect enchiladas, but they beat anything I could get in Mexico anytime!”

  “Thanks, Suz”

  “Where’s Sash tonight? When I texted her earlier she said that she’d be here. Claire, I haven’t seen Sasha in almost two months.”

  “Zo, she’s a senior in college and interning for the team. She’s busy,” I say as nonchalantly as possible, trying to get my sister off this topic. I have barely seen my own child in as many months. She seems to have grown more distant by the day. I know Brad is behind the most recent push of distance, but I know my kid, if I push her one way, she’ll only go in the opposite direction just to spite me. That is her grandfather, the bastard!

  “Whatever. She hasn’t even responded to my texts,” Zoey says with disgust as she tosses her phone on the table. “What if I needed her to pick me up or something?”

  “Seriously, Zoey! We all know that I’m the back up. If Derrick isn’t in town we all know I’m the quarterback. And if you can’t get ahold of me, it’s Suz. What’s your point here so that we can all get on with our night?”

  “What the fuck, Claire? Normally you’d kick that kid’s butt to Texas and back for not responding to a text. Now it’s all ‘she’s busy and shit.’ I’d like to know which alien has inhabited my sister’s body. Jesus, I was twenty-eight and you still insisted that I let you know when I got home and that all my doors were locked. Have you hit your head? Lost your fucking mind?”

  “Ha ha ha ha, Zoey. No, I have not lost my mind. I’m trying to let my kid grow up and spread her wings. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “It took a village to raise her, Claire. And you know she is more of a sister to me,” Zoey says at the same time that Suzie pipes up with, “I do.”

  Ignoring Zoey’s comment, I look over at Suzie and know deep in my heart that she has uncovered something in her cyberstalking. “Excuse me? You do what?” I say with a raised eyebrow.

  “I have a problem with you not making Sasha accountable to you and Zo.”

  “Christ, Suz. What do you know that I need to?” comes from my sister.

  Biting her lower lip, Suzie looks at me, then to Zoey and then back to me. “I’ve done my research, Claire,” is all that she says.

  “Meaning???”

  On a sigh, Suzie looks me in the eyes and says, “Claire, I know.” At my look of bewilderment she looks me in the eyes and says, “I KNOW.”

  My stomach drops to the floor as I look at my friend for lenience as well as forgiveness. Having my shame being brought to light is not something that I’m ready for. And knowing that my past is about to bite me in the ass, sooner than I was hoping, sends me into a tailspin of massive proportions. So for the first time ever when it comes to these two, I do what has always worked for me. I shut down and erect a wall that effectively shuts them out and become the Ice Queen.

  Pushing up from the table, I grab first my dessert bowl and then Suzie’s and Zoey’s. It didn’t matter to me that my sister is still eating out of hers. “What the fuck, Claire. I’m not done!”

  “Apparently you are now,” Suzie mumbles.

  It’s as I reach the sink that Zoey finally clues in to the conversation and pipes in. “What do you mean you know, Suz? What do you know?”

  In my attempt to diffuse the entire situation, I say, “Nothing. She knows absolutely nothing, Zo.”

  Looking me in the eye, Suzie says, “Do you really want to go there right now, Claire?”

  Dropping the bowls in the sink with a clatter, I say, “Night’s over. Your men are going to be waiting for you all. You need to go home.”

  Zoey looks at me in confusion and concern. “What the fuck, Claire. You’re kicking us out?”

  “I won’t say a word. I promise!”

  Both are said at the exact same time and only serve to make me feel guilty about the entire situation.

  “You know what, guys. I love you, I do, but I’ve had enough family time and everyone needs to go. Right now.” Seeing the insult on my sister’s face, my first instinct is to appease her. But thinking about the past, I just don’t have it in me at the moment to really care. The only thing that I know is that my kid is not responding to me and has been distant and withdrawn lately, Suzie knows my dirty secret, and Zoey is about to pop any minute and unable to handle the additional stress of this shame of mine. I’ve been threatened by my child’s birth father, and the only man I can trust wants a relationship that I’m not entirely sure I’m ready for. To say that I’ve reached my limit is an understatement.

  “I’m only going to say this once and I expect you to respect my wishes and know that I will explain when I can. But I need you all to leave. Right now.”

&
nbsp; Zoey’s face would make me laugh if I were in the mood. But I’m not. She’s going to revolt and that means she’s going to pick up the phone and call Derrick. The one thing she has learned is that she can ALWAYS rely on her husband. But Derrick isn’t going to make this better. No one is. And unless Bradford Callahan ends up dead, nothing will.

  Just as Zoey picks up her phone, I say, “Put it down, Zo.” With the look on her face, I follow up with, “Now. I raised you, Monkey, and I know what you’re doing. Derrick isn’t going to make this better. Now put the phone down. I got this. When I don’t, I promise you”—I look my sister in the eyes—“I promise you, when I need help, you are the first person I will come to.”

  Then looking over to Suzie, I say, “This ends here. Do you hear me, Suz? Whatever you think you know, you don’t. So this ends here. You got me?”

  Seeing the seriousness on my face and hearing it in my voice, Suzie backs down and nods, letting me know that although she thinks she knows what is going on, she truly doesn’t have an idea.

  “I need for y’all to go home,” I say on a deep exhale out. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I really need for y’all to leave.”

  Suzie grabs Zoey’s hand and looks over to me, making eye contact, she nods again, and says, “Zo, let me grab Ally and I’ll drive you home.”

  “Bu…”

  Suzie stops her, and says, “Let’s go, Zoey.”

  Zoey gets up without a word, which is shocking. I look to Suzie and mouth a thank you.

  I’m not quite sure what I’m thanking her for, but I am grateful for the small reprieve that I have been given.

  Jackson

  IT’S BEEN ONE hell of a long day and the only thing that I want to do is go home, grab a bite to eat, watch a little Sports Center on ESPN and go to bed. Time got away from me and I didn’t realize that it was as late as it is. I’m the last person left in the facility and the hallway is dark. The only light is from the Exit sign at the end which leaves an eerie red glow throughout the space. Reaching the lobby, I head for the door that leads me to the parking lot and my truck, and ultimately home. I sigh in exhaustion. Claire is keeping Legs for the unforeseeable future, so I don’t have to stop and get her tonight. Thank God because I’m tired.