Wait for It

by Mariana Zapata

  I couldn’t believe it.

  “Tia?”

  The sound of Josh’s voice almost immediately ripped me away from the edge of diving back into Diana From Years Ago who would have told everyone to lick a dick. First, I had to mentally picture myself smacking everyone in the back of the head, and then I cut off the rage that had started taking over. It was maybe only ten seconds after my nephew called me that I managed to turn around with a nearly serene smile and find him looking up at me with a suspicious expression on his face.

  “What happened?” he immediately asked.

  My head hurt, but I knew that wasn’t what he was picking up on. If there was someone in the world who was my spirit animal, it was this kid. I wasn’t sure how I ever forgot it. And since Louie wasn’t here, I told the one who had already heard everything and more in his life the truth. “I’m about five seconds away from going to kick Jonathan’s mom’s ass, and then kicking her mom’s ass afterward to teach them both a lesson.”

  The kid burst out laughing, reminding me of how young he was beneath it all. “Why?”

  “She’s out of her mind. We were having a parent meeting and she started talking nonsense. I might go kick Jonathan’s ass too for being the reason she’s here.”

  Josh laughed again, shaking his head. “You’re crazy.”

  “A little,” I agreed, winking at him, suddenly feeling whatever was left over of my rage disappear. How could you stay mad when you had so many great things in your life? “You ready to go home?”

  He nodded, his grin a mile wide. “Yeah.”

  “All right, come on.” I waved him toward the walkway, pausing until he was by my side. “According to your coach, I can’t come to practice with you next time because of that psycho, so tell your grandpa tomorrow that he’ll have to bring you. I’ll call him, but you tell him too, okay?”

  That had Josh stopping and frowning. “Why can’t you come?”

  “Because, I told you, she was saying crazy stuff about how it’s my fault that we’re trying to get the schedule changed, and I might have said something about how she didn’t care about her kid and that’s why she thinks the schedule is fine,” I explained to him honestly, not wanting him to consider me a liar. I felt like, if I didn’t lie to him, I hoped he would learn not to lie to me either. No one was perfect, and I didn’t want him to believe he needed to be. He just had to be the best kind of person he could be and stand up for himself. Being “right” was so subjective.

  “And because of that you can’t come?”

  I nodded, giving him an “I know, right?” face.

  The downturn of Josh’s mouth deepened and he shook his head. “That’s not fair.”

  “I don’t think it is either, but I guess I did egg her on, too, J. I didn’t have to say anything back to her. I could have just let her think whatever she wanted to.” That simple truth had me resigned. I could have let it go. I really could have. “Too late now. It’s okay. It’s just one practice, and hopefully they will change the schedule so it’ll be worth it.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  I shot him a look.

  “That’s dumb,” he amended.

  I shrugged, reaching up to rub at my temple with my index and middle finger. “She’s just mad her kid is in the right field.”

  Chapter Eight

  My good mood lasted until the next morning. When your first thought after waking up includes the word “bullshit” in it, it shouldn’t be a surprise when you’re grumpy the rest of the day. But the fact was even though I was well aware that I had thrown verbal lighter fluid into my talk with the baseball mom at practice yesterday, what resulted from it was still a whole load of horseshit. The more I thought about it, the angrier it made me. What was I supposed to do? Stand there and get blamed for something that wasn’t my fault? I was dreading having to call Mr. Larsen and tell him that I wasn’t going to be able to take Josh to practice, and then have to explain why. It made me feel like a kid who had gotten caught cheating on her test.

  Josh was too sleepy to notice that I was grumpy, and Louie, well, who the hell knew what was going through that kid’s head. The last time I asked him what he was thinking about, he’d said “buttholes.” Since then, I kept that question to myself. But Ginny, who happened to open the salon with me that morning, immediately picked up on my mood.

  “What’s wrong?” she’d asked, already smirking.

  “How can you tell something’s wrong?” I asked, shoving the last piece of smores flavored Pop-Tart into my mouth.

  “Because you eat Pop-Tarts when you’re mad or aggravated.” Her smirk grew. “And I know you. I can sense it.”

  She was right. Pop-Tarts were my comfort food in time of need. The boys already knew that when they caught me eating a package, something was wrong. I slid her a look as I unpacked my lunch and put it into the refrigerator, chewing and swallowing the last bit of my makeshift breakfast. To balance it out, I’d scarfed down a banana first. “You get into one little argument with another parent at baseball and you get suspended from a practice.”

  I didn’t have to look at my boss to know she’d hunched over when she started laughing. I could hear her, and I knew her. And it was the sound of her laugh that made me smile so hard my face hurt from trying not to do the same. It did sound ridiculous.

  “Trip did that?” she asked, wiping at her eyes.

  “No, your other cousin did. Trip just stood by and let it happen.” We weren’t friends, I’d accepted that while I sulked on the way to work that morning, but I still couldn’t help but feel betrayed.

  That had her cracking up all over again. “What happened?”

  So I told her in detail, and when she nodded at me in response, I knew I hadn’t done some crazy, unheard of thing. Plus, Ginny really had been nineteen when she’d had her first child. Of course she was going to get at least a little offended. Luckily for both of us, she didn’t offer to call Trip and put in a good word for me. I would never ask her to do that and she knew I could handle my own battles… unless I specifically asked for help. When she patted me on the back and shared half an orange with me, I told myself again it wasn’t a big deal, that I shouldn’t get so bent out of shape.

  I had acted wrongly, but I still wouldn’t change what I’d said. I could be a grown-up and accept responsibility for my actions. Somehow my mood spiked after I accepted that reality, and the next few hours went better.

  Until I went to the deli for two soft drinks during a small break between customers right around lunch.

  It wasn’t a surprise that the line to order and pay was long. They kept the sodas behind the counter. With two people ahead of me, the door chimed open, but I didn’t turn around. I was too busy looking down at my phone, browsing through flight times to visit my best friend.

  “How’s it going?” a male voice asked behind me.

  I didn’t realize they were talking to me, so I kept looking at my screen.

  There was a short laugh. “Diana, you gonna ignore me?”

  Wondering who the hell would be talking to me, I glanced over my shoulder and immediately went from being confused to not amused. It was Trip, my not-friend. “Hi. I didn’t know you were talking to me.”

  That signature bright smile of his went up a notch, indifferent to my tone and mood. “Who else would I be talkin’ to?” he asked, still grinning.

  I shrugged, that slight taste of resentment on my tongue. “I don’t know.”

  Unaffected, he asked, “Gettin’ some lunch?”

  “No, just two drinks.” I paused, fighting the urge between being rude and polite. The champion winning as it always did. “You?”

  “Lunch.” If he knew he wasn’t exactly my favorite person in that moment, he didn’t let it get to him. “How’s your day goin’?”

  “Good.” I kept my mouth flat. “You?”

  “No complaints.” That pretty pink mouth of his twitched and he raised his eyebrows, his impressive smile growing by the second. “You mad
at me too?”

  My mood felt like a balloon that had been pricked by a needle. I sighed and took a step closer as the line behind me shifted. “Maybe.”

  He straight up smirked. “Aww, honey, don’t be like that. We gotta be fair. The boys can’t see y’all goin’ at it and think there’s no consequences if they get into fights.”

  I started to open my mouth about how we hadn’t gotten into a fight, but closed it just as quickly. The thing with being an adult sometimes, was that it sucked. I hated admitting I was wrong to other people, even though last night while I’d been talking to Josh I had admitted having a part in what happened. But Trip was right.

  “If it matters any, I would’ve been rootin’ for you and not Christy.”

  How could I stay mad after that, especially with that beaming grin he had aimed in my direction? “At least you would have. I don’t know what I did to your head coach. He makes me feel like I have cooties. Every time I talk to him, it’s like I’m a burden on his soul. If he didn’t want Josh or me on the team, he could have said something before, or just not put him on the team to begin with.”

  “What?” Trip chuckled, his forehead scrunched up in confusion as he did it. I was starting to see this man laughed more than he did anything else. It was so cute. “Dallas?”

  “Yeah.” I wasn’t about to tell him about the first day we met. It wasn’t any of his business what had happened to Dallas’s brother, family or not. I didn’t know what Dallas could or would have told others about that night. Maybe he had told them everything. Maybe he had told them nothing. But it wasn’t my news to share with other people. I would hate for him to spread my business around.

  The blond’s forehead became lined even more, and he shook his head just slightly in disbelief. “He was the one who pointed out your boy in the first place.” He paused and shook his head again. “He’s being like that?”

  I nodded.

  “Nah. That doesn’t make any sense. I’ve known him my whole life and I’ve never seen him get mad at anybody. He’s pretty fuckin’ chill.”

  Were we talking about the same person? I had seen him get mad at two people in the handful of times I’d been around him.

  He seemed to think about it for a moment before making a noise deep in the back of his throat. One of his eyes went a little squinty. “You hit on him?”

  The snort that burst out of me was so insulted, there was no way he could have taken it a different way. No fucking way. “No.” I didn’t even have to think about it. I hadn’t. Not even a little. Maybe I’d checked him out a tiny bit, I wasn’t a saint, but I hadn’t told him to come out of his room in only his boxers. But I’d cut myself off from looking at him below the neck the instant I learned he was married.

  Trip looked more than a little amused. “I’m just askin’. He gets a little sensitive about that shit.” Because he was married or separated or whatever the hell he was? “He hasn’t said nothin’ to me about you.”

  Not knowing what to think or say, I rubbed my hands across the front of my pants nervously. “I just don’t want things to be awkward if we have to see each other all the time. I swear I didn’t do anything to make him dislike me. He was pretty nice at first—” At that moment, I realized I was complaining to a grown man about his cousin. I needed to stop. There were plenty of pointless things you could do in your life and whining to a man about another man seemed like it would be at the top of the list. “I just don’t know what I did, and I don’t want things to be awkward.”

  “I’d ask him. I don’t always get what climbs up his ass and what doesn’t,” Trip explained casually, so openly it caught me off guard since we didn’t really know each other well. “You’re easy on the eyes, honey. I know I wouldn’t mind you flirtin’ with me.”

  “I didn’t flirt with him,” I practically ground out, replaying every conversation I’d had with the man. Nothing. I couldn’t see any flirting in there.

  Trip raised his shoulders in this casual gesture, still grinning; that could have meant “I believe you” or “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  Great. I scoffed, taking into consideration his words for later, and then focusing again on the man in front of me, grinning. “Stop smiling at me like that,” I said, watching him.

  That only made his smile wider. “Like what?”

  He knew exactly what he was doing. I wasn’t a fool. He definitely wasn’t one either. “Like that. I’m a lost cause. Don’t waste all that—” I waved my hand in a circle. “—on me.”

  His laugh reminded me so much of Ginny, in that moment, it seemed like I’d known Trip half my life. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about.”

  “You’re a damn liar.” I snorted at him, smiling seriously.

  The more he laughed, the more the edges of us not knowing each other chiseled away and made me feel like we were friends already. “Gin already told me to pretend you were married and had warts all over your face.” His hands went up to pat the stained white T-shirt he had on. Something told me she wasn’t the first person in his life to make that distinction clear to him. “She said her scissors would slip or some shit like that if I tried anything.”

  Oh, Ginny. I wasn’t sure how I got so lucky to not just have one great friend, but to have two just seemed like a blessing not many people got in their lives. “You don’t mess with a girl and her shears.” I raised my hand and made snipping motions with my index and middle finger, eyebrows raised.

  “I know how to behave.”

  I eyed him. “I don’t believe you.”

  The smirk on his handsome face, all five o’clock shadow and yellow-gray hair, confirmed just how full of shit he was. At least he wasn’t going to bother continuing. And now that the ground rules between us had been set into place, it made me feel even more at ease with him.

  “How’s Josh likin’ the team?” he asked, as if sensing that our lines had been drawn.

  I told him the truth. “Good. He’s ready to start competing.” I had already started mentally preparing myself for sitting through game after game, hour after hour, for the next chunk of my life. Competitive baseball was probably one of the hardest things I’d had to adapt to when I first got Josh.

  “How long has he been playing?”

  “Since… tee-ball when he was three.” That was almost eight years ago. I’d been almost twenty-two when he’d started. If that didn’t have the ability to make me feel like life had flown by, I didn’t know what could.

  “Your boy’s got that look in his eye. I kinda feel like a dumbass now that I never paid much attention to Gin when she’d bring up her coworker’s boy that played.”

  I shrugged. At least he knew he should feel dumb. “She said your son is on the team too. Which one is he?” I’d been trying to figure out which of the boys on the team was his son, but I hadn’t put it together yet. Both coaches were always surrounded by at least two boys, and maybe I hadn’t paid enough attention, but I hadn’t caught him singling one out more than the others.

  “Dean. Yellow hair. Hyper. Never stops talking.”

  There was a dark blond boy on the team who had been a giant goofball even during tryouts. At practice the day before, he’d been singing theme songs each time a different boy went up to bat during practice. “And you have another one, don’t you?”

  Trip made a sound in his throat. “He’s two. I don’t get to see him much,” he admitted so easily I wasn’t sure how to take it. His tone hadn’t changed, but… well, I didn’t know him well enough to be sure if there was something else hidden under there, but there easily could have been. Trip didn’t know I knew he had kids with different people, and I wasn’t positive how much he would like Ginny telling me things like that, even if it hadn’t been with bad intentions or a lack of affection on her part. She was just watching out for me.

  The line behind me moved until I was next.

  “You only got your two boys?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “They’re actuall
y my—”

  His phone started ringing, and he winked at me as he reached into his pocket. “Gimme a sec,” he said, bringing it up to his face and answering.

  I turned around to give him some privacy, promising myself I’d tell him about the boys some other time.

  * * *

  “Who is it that we don’t like?”

  I almost snorted out the water I’d been in the middle of drinking.

  “Cat got your tongue, Di?” the older man chuckled, slapping me on the back as I coughed for breath after his question.

  Louie, who was sitting on the other side of his grandpa on the same bleachers as us leaned over, his face all worried and soft. “Tia, you okay?”

  I coughed and then coughed some more, the hand I’d slapped over my mouth to keep from spitting on the people in front of us, coming off more than a little wet from what I hadn’t been able to catch. I looked at Mr. Larsen out of the corner of my eye, trying so hard not to laugh, and nodded at Lou. “I think a bug flew into my mouth, Goo. I’m all right.”

  He winced. “I hate it when they do that. They don’t taste like chicken.”

  What the hell?

  Before I could ask him why he would assume bugs tasted like chicken, Mr. Larsen shot me a horrified expression that we shared for a moment. He raised his shoulders and I raised them right back. I was going to blame his side of the family for that. Then I whispered to the older man, “She isn’t here. They aren’t letting her come to two practices. It was only me that got suspended from one.”

  He had “oohed” and “ahhed,” a total sport after I’d had to admit to him why I couldn’t take Josh to practice. Without missing a beat, he asked afterward, “What time does he need to be there?” My love for the Larsens didn’t know an end or a beginning. I had a big family, but sometimes you met people who fit so perfectly into your life, you couldn’t imagine them ever not being a part of it. And these two people went above and beyond. Their ability to love knew no bounds.