“He’s a good kid.” Ryan shook the teacher’s hand.
By now, a crowd of parents and children gathered around. “Are you really Ryan Hudson?”
“We love you. How are you feeling?”
“When will you be back on the field?”
“That’s my dad’s friend,” Brock’s daughter, Bianca, said. “My dad says he’s the best pitcher since Nolan Ryan.”
“Is it true you can trick people with your pitches?” a freckle-faced boy asked. “I want to be like you when I grow up.”
“Can I get your autograph?” a cute little girl asked.
“Please sign my mitt,” the boy said, digging through his backpack.
Ryan held his hands up and looked at the teacher. “I’m sure Mrs. Udelhoven needs to get the class started. Why don’t I talk to the principal and see if I can do a pitching demonstration? Then we can have questions and autographs.”
“That’s a great idea,” Mrs. Udelhoven said. Turning to Ben, she added, “You and I can go see Mr. Whipple during recess and make a proposal for an assembly.”
“Wow. Yes!” Ben’s entire face brightened. “Then everyone can participate.”
“Great,” Ryan said. “I’ll be back to pick you up.”
He tipped his cap and waved goodbye to Ben as the bell rang and Mrs. Udelhoven herded her second-grade class into the room.
The parents and grandparents, however, hung around.
“So, what’s the scoop on your injury?” a middle-aged man asked. “You think you can get back this season?”
“Definitely,” Ryan said. “Lucky it happened in spring training and not later on.”
A wiry young woman with a mop of unruly hair walked by holding a squirmy chocolate brown Labrador puppy. “Oh, dang, she closed her door already.”
“That’s a cute puppy,” Ryan said. “You have any more like him?”
The woman lifted the puppy for Ryan to examine. “I’m running a rescue and someone dropped off an entire litter. Mrs. Udelhoven said a boy in her class is looking for a puppy for his brother. I wanted his mother to get a look at it to see if she wants it.”
The puppy sniffed at Ryan and wagged his tail. He was fuzzy and brown like a Hershey chocolate bar with floppy ears and gray-blue eyes. His little potbelly rolled adorably as he wiggled wanting Ryan to hold him. He licked his hand with a sweet pink tongue, and Ryan’s heart turned to mush.
“Who’s the little boy who wanted a puppy?” he asked. “I might know him.”
“Ben Rush. He has a brother who’s autistic,” the woman said, handing the puppy to Ryan. “I knew a girl who was autistic. Her name was Madge, and my foster mother burned her with an iron.”
The woman scratched herself with stubby fingernails which had been chewed to the quick and decorated with chipped black nail polish. She seemed to be in her early to mid-twenties but dressed like a teenager, complete with ripped, laddered jeans, a skinny ribbed tank top and too much cheap jewelry.
Ryan shrank with horror at what the woman had said. “Where’s Madge now? Is she safe from that horrible woman?”
“I don’t know.” Tina shrugged. “I got reassigned. Anyway, I got a bunch of dogs, and Ben Rush’s teacher said he wanted one.”
She seemed not to be all there, so Ryan let the cold shiver go down his spine and focused on the adorable puppy. “I happen to be a friend of Ben’s mother. Mind if I take the puppy?”
“How do I know you’re who you say you are?” The woman narrowed her eyes, but couldn’t quite pull off the suspicious look due to her tweezed-to-a-thin-line eyebrows.
“You don’t recognize Mr. Hudson?” an elderly Asian man asked. “He’s my son’s teammate.”
“Your son is?” Ryan cradled the puppy with one arm and stuck his hand out to shake.
“Timmy Li,” the man said. “My son says you’re the best.”
“Oh, wow, you’re baseball players?” The woman’s eyes lit. “I know a few. I’m Tina Lee, L E E, not L I.”
“Do you know my son?” the man asked.
“Of course I do,” Tina said. “I used to bartend at The Hot Corner. Your son’s real hot. Always got two or three ladies with him.” She then turned her attention to Ryan. “Now that I think about it, you used to go there, too, but you had a beard. I wasn’t there long because I went to jail, and now they won’t let me have my job back.”
Ryan glanced at Timmy’s dad who winced at the torrent of information from this strange woman. He didn’t really want to hand the puppy back, because he wanted to surprise Ben and Drew with it. Besides, he was already in love with the cute ball of fuzz.
“What do I have to do to keep this little one?” Ryan asked.
Tina screwed her eyes and face and rolled her eyes up briefly before saying, “Three hundred bucks.”
“Oh, come on, now,” Ryan said, knowing that if he didn’t react, Tina would believe she could have gotten more. “He’s a rescue dog.”
“But he’s adorable,” Tina said. “Two hundred.”
“Like you said, there are a lot more like him back at your place.”
“But the kid wants the dog to help his autistic brother. If my foster sister had a dog, maybe my foster mother wouldn’t have beat her as much. Maybe the dog would have bitten her.”
Hopefully, the foster mother was in jail and the foster sister was in a better place.
“Okay, then, two hundred,” Ryan said. “I want all his papers, if he has any, and a receipt. Has he been seen by a vet?”
“Yep, no balls.” Tina grabbed the puppy’s legs and opened them. “That’s why you have to pay.”
The puppy whined and wiggled in the crook of Ryan’s arm, then squirted Tina in the eye with a shot of pee.
“Hey, that’s not nice,” Tina squealed while Timmy’s father laughed.
“I like that dog,” the older man said. “Does he have a brother?”
“He sure does.” Tina wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “And sisters, too, want to see them?”
“Sure, but I’m an old man and I can’t pay more than twenty dollars.”
“Your son can pay,” Tina said, perking up at the prospect of making money off a puppy she likely was going to give away.
Ryan took his wallet out and peeled out ten twenties. Tina stuffed the money into her pocket and produced a business card for the rescue center. On the back of it, she wrote Ryan’s name and the amount he paid for one chocolate colored male puppy.
“Well, Hershey.” Ryan nuzzled the puppy, earning himself a slather of licks. “I think you got yourself a new home.”
It didn’t matter if Jamie wanted him or not, Ryan would keep little Hershey until he, too, had wormed his way into the little Rush family.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
On the drive home, Jamie played and replayed the doctor’s insinuations. There was no way Ryan would have done any of the things the doctor hinted at. For one thing, she was always around and the doors were always open. Besides, Drew wore diapers to go to bed, and the tapes were not the refastening types—not on the inexpensive ones she purchased.
The other thing was that Drew was extremely touch sensitive. He didn’t like anyone touching him and had learned to wash himself in the bathtub. He hated diaper wipes and insisted on wiping himself. Besides, he was liable to have a meltdown if he felt stressed. Dr. Sampson should have known all of that.
But then again, even though Ryan would never hurt an innocent child, she still had to be wary. Children who were nonverbal, or barely able to express themselves, oftentimes made easy marks for abusers since they couldn’t or wouldn’t tell their parents if anything happened. Drew was one of those hypersensitive kids, so he would scream and let on if he was hurt, but some autistic children suffered in silence, and their parents never knew if they were hurt or sick.
Jamie glanced in the rearview mirror at Drew. He seemed content to twirl her house keys around and around, making jangling sounds. The doctor hadn’t said how long it would take for him to
speak again, if ever. She would have to wait it out and hope and pray he hadn’t regressed completely.
The hard part would be to inform Andrew of what had happened. He was out in California dealing with a client, and even though they didn’t keep in touch while he was away, she would eventually have to let him know.
And then what? He’d blame Ryan for taking the boys fishing. He’d blame her for letting Ryan take the boys fishing, and he could possibly sue for custody like he’d threatened her multiple times.
Her heart soggy and heavy, she pulled the SUV into the garage.
“Drew, when we go home, I want you to go to the potty, and then you have to eat breakfast,” she said as a matter of course. She would treat him like he was still responsive and then walk him through the motions.
Silently, she got Drew out of his car seat, wondering if Ryan had gone out. He must have heard the garage door, and if he were home, he would have come to ask her how it went.
She unlocked the door leading into the house and opened it, noticing the alarm was not armed. She’d have to speak to him about arming the alarm, but with everything that had happened, maybe it would be better for him to move out.
“Woof, woof!” A squeaky rough bark sounded from the hallway, and a fluffy brown puppy bounded toward them, followed by Ryan.
“Puppy!” Drew cried before Jamie could ask Ryan what the heck he was doing bringing a dog into her house.
“Hey, you like him?” Ryan got down on the ground and picked up the wiggling puppy.
“My puppy?” Drew stood still, not reaching for the dog.
“Only if your mother okays it,” Ryan said. “You want to pet him? I’ll show you how.”
Slowly, Drew put his hand out. Ryan took it and helped him rub his hand through the puppy’s soft fur.
It was on the edge of Jamie’s lips to tell Ryan that Drew didn’t like furry stuffed animals, that he only liked smooth plastic toys. But the puppy jumped into Drew’s arms licking him all over, and the look in Drew’s face was pure elation.
The little guy was a ball of energy and his tail wagged furiously as he tried to get in every bit of loving. What was Jamie going to do? Be the bad one in the face of such cuteness?
The problem was: Ryan hadn’t gotten her approval. Like Andrew, he made the decisions and she had to accept the consequences.
“His name’s Hershey,” Ryan said.
“Hershey,” Drew said. “He’s brown all over.”
“Yes, he is, a chocolate Lab, just like I had when I was little.”
A smile crinkled Drew’s face and he looked up at Ryan. Their eyes met briefly, and happiness bubbled through Ryan’s heart. Drew was recoverable. The almost-drowning hadn’t messed him up. Thank God.
He glanced up at Jamie, but her lips were pursed and she looked like she had steam blowing out of her nostrils.
Okay, so she wasn’t happy, and he hadn’t spoken to her about it.
“Early birthday present?” he asked, spreading his hands out apologetically.
“I’m not sure we can take him,” she said. “You shouldn’t have done this.”
“Then he’s my dog and I’ll let Drew play with him,” Ryan said.
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “You know full well what you’re doing here.”
“What am I doing?” Ryan stood and put his hands on his hips.
“Taking control away from me. Manipulating me with emotional blackmail. I never agreed to a dog.” She sighed and watched Drew play with the puppy. “I don’t like to be controlled.”
She held her hand over her forehead and headed for the kitchen. Ryan followed.
“Did you really mean what you said about manipulating you and emotional blackmail?” He got in front of her as she took a bottle of pills from the top of the refrigerator. “The last thing I want to do is control you or run your life. I was just trying to help.”
“I know you think you’re doing everything for my welfare and for Drew and Ben’s benefit, but I don’t need you to fix things in my life.” She poured out a Tylenol tablet and put it in her mouth.
“What’s wrong with me trying to make life better for you? What’s wrong with me caring for you?”
“Nothing, except this is happening too fast.” She filled water into a cup and swallowed the pain pill. “I have to tell Andrew about Drew’s almost-drowning and that he regressed because of it.”
“But he’s okay now,” Ryan said. “Do you really have to rock the boat and tell him?”
“He’s Drew’s father.” Jamie huffed. “Of course I have to tell him about his own child.”
“You know the last time Drew went unresponsive was when Andrew swung a baseball bat at him?”
“Who told you?” Jamie’s face blanched, and she dragged her fingers through her tangled hair. “Ben?”
“Was he not supposed to? I can’t figure you out. If this guy’s so dangerous, why do you let him come around?”
“He’s not dangerous!” Jamie shouted. “He’s their father and he pays all the bills.”
“Are you saying Ben lied?” Ryan grabbed Jamie’s shoulders and turned her toward him. “Because it seemed so traumatic that it triggered Drew’s head banging.”
“Drew gets stressed and bangs his head,” Jamie said. “No need to read more into it.”
“So, what did the doctor say? Is he okay?” Ryan let his hands drop from Jamie. She was stiff, and she didn’t lean into his touch.
“Doctor says he doesn’t have a concussion and to wait and watch.” She glanced over at the boy and dog playing on the living room floor. “Guess he snapped out of it. I have to get him fed and back on schedule.”
“Do you want me and Hershey to leave?”
She nodded, not able to meet his gaze. “It’s for the better. I can’t have Andrew coming home and finding you here.”
Ryan’s blood boiled and every muscle in his body clenched. Jamie obviously cared a lot about what Andrew thought. That man had such tight control over her that she was making excuses for him.
“Then, I best get out of your way.” Ryan headed for the bedroom and took his duffel bag out of the closet.
So much for the dancing in the dark and the sweet nothings he’d whispered into her ear.
Apparently, they’d meant nothing to her.
Jamie’s heart fluttered aimlessly and she felt starved of oxygen, as if she couldn’t catch her breath. Hot and cold prickles danced over her face and flashes of light fired behind her eyelids.
Her head throbbed as if a crew of jackhammers were drilling into her brain, and her eyes ached with unshed tears.
Why had she given into temptation and taken what she shouldn’t have? She was a mother—a single mother, and her only priority should be her children.
Ryan was a here today, gone tomorrow fantasy, and she’d been greedily drinking up all the romance he’d showered her with.
The ache inside her grew as she watched him pack. For the short time he was here, she hadn’t been lonely. She’d had another grownup to talk to. They’d been a team with the boys. They’d pretended to have something more, and it had fed into her deep-seated wish that she could have a partner in life.
This yearning had overwhelmed her common sense and she’d let her guard down—enough so that he’d said he loved her.
Loved her.
And the boys.
Jamie swallowed a lump in her throat and wiped her eyes.
Was it so bad to want to be loved? To desire human companionship? To have a partner to hold and to enjoy?
Except she’d neglected her child, and Drew had had a relapse. His head was bruised, and he’d almost drowned.
How could she ever forgive herself?
Ryan finished packing and set his duffel bag at the door. “Guess I should be taking Hershey with me, too.”
“Yes, you should, if you can get him away from Drew,” Jamie said.
“See? This is where you’re wrong,” Ryan said, glaring at her. “You’re his mother. You n
eed to take the dog away from him. You need to be the one with authority, instead of pawning him off on others.”
Jamie’s brain snapped like an overstretched rubber band. “How dare you stand there in judgment of me? You don’t know the first thing about living with autism. You experienced forty-eight hours and now you’re telling me I’m not tough enough?”
“I’m calling it as I see it.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You defer too much to me, and as you keep reminding me, I’m not his father. I don’t have authority over him. Let me get my dog and be on my way.”
Jamie marched back into the living room and tapped Drew on the shoulder. “You need to eat breakfast and then we’ll do the emotions puzzle. The dog has to go with Ryan.”
Drew stood up and the puppy followed, barking in a scruffy cute way and wagging his tail. Ryan scooped up his dog and walked toward the front door.
“Guess I’ll see you around,” he said to Jamie. “Call me for anything you need.” Looking down at Drew, he said, “Hey, I got to go right now, but you let your mother know if you want to play ball.”
Drew didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. His big blue eyes tracked Ryan’s every move, and when Ryan got to the door, Drew ran over and put his hand in Ryan’s.
“I’m going with you,” the little boy said.
“No, you can’t,” Jamie said. “You have to stay here with me and Ben.”
“I’m going with Ryan,” Drew insisted. “We can play ball with the dog.”
“No.” Jamie put her foot down. “You’re already skipping school. We’re going to have breakfast, and then I’m taking you to school. Ryan has to go home now.”
Drew’s lower lip jutted out a mile, and he threw himself on the floor, letting out an eerie wail.
Meltdown or tantrum?
Jamie wasn’t going to let Drew control her. She’d show Ryan she could parent.
Grabbing Drew by the arm, she led him to the kitchen and put him on the time-out mat. “You’re staying here until you stop whining and carrying on.”
Drew shook his head and screamed, crying and slapping his own face.
Playing for the Save (Men of Spring Baseball Book 3) Page 16