Changing Her Plans (Santa Fe Bobcats)

by Jeanette Murray

  “I might need a breakfast beer,” he muttered as she laughed and carried his plate to the sink.

  Clay knocked softly, backing up to wait on the front porch. While he waited, he watched the moths and other various flying insects buzz and flit around the porch light.

  When the door opened, he gave his sister a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

  Amanda sighed and rolled her eyes but let him in. “Why can’t you just use the damn key I gave you and save me a trip off the couch to open the door?”

  “Because you’re home. That would be rude.” He went to the kitchen and helped himself to a bottle of water, noting the disaster that lay in wait for his sister. “Rough day?”

  “Not particularly. I just never feel like wasting time on dishes when he naps. If he naps,” she added darkly, flopping down. “So I save them for another time. ‘Another time’ is often code for ‘when hell freezes over.’”

  He laughed and sat opposite her on the couch. The TV was on but muted. “Whatcha watching?”

  “No clue. I zoned out somewhere along the way.” She sat up a little straighter. “What’s going on?”

  “Just thinking. I spent the weekend with Kristen.”

  Amanda rubbed her hands together and showed a bit more spunk. “Kristen, huh? The whole weekend? I need to meet this girl. She sounds like she’s got you tied up in knots. I can applaud anyone who gets my brother all mixed up in the head like this.”

  “Thanks, brat,” he said dryly, then took a sip of water. It didn’t help wash down the taste of worry. “I’ve already told her about you.”

  “All flattering things, I’m sure.”

  “Nothing but the best,” he agreed with a smile.

  “Seriously though. I need to see what my brother’s getting himself into. Divorced, single mom, teenager, works under you,” Amanda said, ticking off points on her fingers.

  “I wouldn’t say works under me, but yeah. Mostly.” Another sip did nothing but delay. “I already told you she doesn’t want kids. More kids,” he clarified when his sister’s brow rose in reminder. “She’s past that, she says. Done with it. And I’m...”

  “You never got started.” Amanda’s voice was softer now, all teasing gone. In true sibling fashion, she’d realized her brother was hurting and wouldn’t add to the pain. Siblings were always allowed to bust on each other, but the moment someone outside the family took a swing, it was war. “You mentioned this before. But you never told me…does she know you want kids?”

  “She does.”

  “Then what the hell? Is she playing games with you? That’s a shitty thing to do.”

  He smiled a little at her defense. “Put away the sword, Xena. She tried hard to let me down gently from the start. Date one, actually, she was pretty honest about not wanting more kids and wanted to break things off.”

  There was silence for a moment, with nothing more than the hum of the ceiling fan to break the air. “And you wouldn’t let her.”

  “There was too much there. Too much spark. Too much...everything.” He set the bottle down on the coffee table and rubbed a hand over his face. “How do I walk away from someone I’m falling in love with?”

  “Well, you don’t. I don’t think.” Amanda shrugged when he side-eyed her. “I’m not sure since I’ve never actually been in love myself. But something tells me it doesn’t happen often, so you don’t walk away.”

  “But Amanda...I’m not going to change her mind on the kids thing. She’s done. Full stop. I can respect that, intellectually. I do get it. But I look at her, and I want to keep her forever. And I want to have kids. I want to have kids with her. She’s my it. You know?”

  Though she’d already said romantic love was a foreign concept, Amanda nodded and rubbed his back a bit in sympathy.

  “So I give up her, or I give up kids.”

  “She’s got one,” Amanda pointed out. “He needs a father.”

  “He’s all but grown. And according to Kristen, he’s got a good dad. He’s not local, so there’s that. But his dad sounds like a really good man. He even gets along really well with Kristen, despite the whole divorce thing. That’s pretty rare.”

  “So he’s got a dad and a mom. You can still be there for him. And it’s not the same,” she added when Clay took a deep breath. “I know it. It’s not the same as being there from conception on. Clay, I get it. I really do. You want something that’s a piece of you and a piece of Kristen. You want to hold that little life in your arms and sing it to sleep.”

  His heart simply ached at the picture she painted in his mind’s eye.

  “But what if she couldn’t have kids?”

  That made him look at her. “Clearly, she can.”

  “Secondary infertility is a real thing. But just go with me here. What if she said, ‘Just so you know, I can’t have kids. I had an operation and I can’t carry any more children.’ Would you have walked away then? Her mind can’t be changed with that scenario, because it’s not her choice. Would you leave?”

  “No,” he said instantly, horrified at the idea of walking away from Kristen in any situation. But especially a medical one totally out of her control.

  “So now you know she has the option, but she’s still not budging. Either way, you weren’t going to get a child that’s a piece of each of you. Is it enough?”

  He started to answer, then shut his mouth again. “I want to say yes.”

  “Want to and saying it are two different things, brother mine.”

  “Am I always going to be hoping, deep down inside, that she’ll change her mind? Is that fair for either of us? I can’t step into a relationship, into a marriage, hoping the other person changes. That’s bullshit.”

  “Yes it is. And the fact that you know this, and you’re willing to ask yourself the question, speaks a lot about how you feel about her. That you wouldn’t want to trap her into a marriage where you’re waiting for her to change any more than she’s wanting to trap you into a marriage where you’ll never get the one thing you truly want.”

  His sister’s words washed over him and only left him feeling more confused.

  “It’s clear you both love each other. Nobody who felt less could make such a mess out of this.” Amanda kissed his cheek. “I’m happy you found her even if after this weekend it is nothing more than a memory. She’s softened you a little. She’s made you really think and consider what you want in life. That’s important. But can I ask you one last thing before I go crawl in bed and make you see yourself out?”

  “Yeah, might as well,” he said sarcastically.

  “Think about the future you. Are you seeing kids because that’s the most comfortable image you’ve had from the time you first knew you’d get married? Are children there simply because it’s what you’ve always thought you should have?”

  He began to answer, but she silenced him with the palm of her hand. He debated biting it like he had when they were kids, but she must have seen the gleam in his eye and snatched her hand away again.

  “You’re mean. I’m helping here.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “The point is, which is more important to you? A future with Kristen in it, or a future with kids in it?”

  That…wasn’t easy to answer.

  “Go home, think about it. Let it sink in and really consider. There’s no right answer. And I think…” She sighed and looked away for a second. “I think no matter what you choose, it’s going to hurt a little. Giving something up that you really want, that always hurts. It doesn’t mean it’s not right though. The pain just means it was special, and even if it’s not permanent, it’s okay to be sad. Just consider it, okay? Really give it some thought.”

  Clay nodded, then waited for Amanda to walk back toward her bedroom. Then he headed for the kitchen.

  He could think about it while he did the dishes. But the way his heart was leaning, he had a feeling the decision was already made.

  Kristen sat down at her desk and smiled at the notecard lying on
her keyboard.

  Space is cool, but just know I’m still thinking of you.

  She picked up the notecard—just a plain index card, nothing fancy—and ran her fingers along the edges. He hadn’t signed it, but he’d taken the time to walk to her desk and leave it there before she’d gotten into the office. She’d missed him the night before. Two nights of sleeping in his arms, waking up to him in the morning, and subconsciously feeling his strong body beside hers at any given point during the hours between sleep and wake had given her an unrealistic expectation of the future.

  “Good weekend?”

  Kristen blinked and looked at Marge, who was watching her. “Hmm?”

  “You’re smiling. You and Isaac get up to something fun?”

  “Oh, right.” She opened her bottom drawer, slipped the index card in her purse, and closed it again firmly. Hopefully with her silly daydreaming alongside it. “Isaac went to his dad’s for the weekend. He came home late last night. Which should have been yesterday afternoon, but he and his sisters were engaged in an intense battle of Monopoly that lasted way too long.”

  “Ah, that’s the smile then. Your baby’s back home.”

  Kristen nodded absently. “One more year, and then who knows how often I’ll get to see him.”

  “Soak it up now,” Marge advised. Having raised three kids of her own—two daughters and a son, all of whom were currently in their twenties—Kristen knew her coworker spoke from experience.

  “Will do.” She opened her e-mail and began sifting through the most important conversations, taking quick notes on what needed to be done ASAP and what could be tasked for later in the day or week. When the door to the front opened, she didn’t even look up. She listened to Marge greet their visitor and continued to work.

  “Kristen,” Marge said, her voice unexpectedly close by. Kristen jolted, then laid a hand to her heart as she looked up to find the older woman standing just beside her desk, a concerned look on her face.

  “You startled me,” she began, then looked around Marge to see two uniformed police officers waiting in their lobby. “What’s going on?”

  “They need to speak to Coach Barnes.”

  Chapter 12

  Clay sighed and tossed the binder back on the pile. “We’re getting nowhere fast.”

  “Coach, are you sure this is all necessary?” Trey held up the binder in his own hands, covered with sticky note tabs. “I mean, it’s fine to weed out the stuff we don’t use, but is it worth the man hours?”

  “Did you have anything else going on?” Clay shot back.

  “Sort of,” Josh muttered, not looking up.

  “I’m always able to find something. I’ve got a wife, you know,” Trey pointed out.

  “Who works here. You’re twice as likely to spend time with her in this building during office hours as you are at home.”

  “Fine, I could be working out.”

  “Which you already did this morning.”

  “I could be sleeping.”

  “Sleeping is for retired players.”

  “I could be practicing for retirement. Sitting on my back deck, taking a nap in the shade. I’m not getting any younger, you know.”

  Clay snorted. Trey would retire when his body quit and not a minute before. The guy was a lifer. He’d never fully step away from the game. Just like Clay. If Trey wasn’t announcing or coaching, he’d be doing something else with the sport.

  “We’ve got a few weeks before you’re both officially back on team time, with pre-camp conditioning. We’ll get what we can done, and what doesn’t get done, Coach Jordan will just have to suck it up.”

  Josh laughed but smothered it into a cough and kept his head down.

  Clay picked up another binder and opened to the first page to see which book he had before leafing through to the sticky notes left by both quarterbacks.

  A knock on his open door had all three of them looking up. Kristen hovered, a serious look on her face.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt—”

  “Hey, Kristen,” Trey said, leaning back and holding his fist out. She gave a ghost of a smile and stepped into the office to bump her smaller fist with his. “How’s the summer treating Isaac?”

  “Fine, great.” Her voice was monotone. “Guys, I’m going to borrow the coach for a bit.”

  Trey nodded. “Sure thing.”

  Josh just kept flipping and noting.

  Clay stood, sensing this wasn’t going to be a fun trip to the break room where she’d pull him close and kiss him senseless before sending him back to his office. He walked out into the hallway. “What’s wrong?”

  She just shook her head, walking back toward the front reception area without looking at him. But before they reached the door that led to the public entrance, she stopped and placed a hand on his chest. “Clay...”

  “What’s up?” His heart dropped. “Is it Isaac? What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

  “No. I mean, Isaac is fine. But there are two state troopers here in the conference room.” She tilted her head toward the closed door. “They’re here for you. I don’t know...I mean, I didn’t ask, and they didn’t...”

  “Probably a mistake.” There was nothing he could think of they would want with him. “You sure they asked for me?”

  She just watched him with big eyes. Of course she was sure.

  “I’ll go clear it up and send them on their way.”

  “Sure.” She nodded and kept nodding, but it was clear she didn’t believe him. “I’ll be at my desk.”

  “No, come with me.” He shrugged when both her brows rose. “It won’t take but a minute.”

  He opened the door, and she walked in ahead of him.

  “Sir, we regret to inform you that Amanda Barnes was involved in a car accident this morning on State Road 599. She didn’t make it.”

  The only outward sign Kristen could see that Clay had heard the news were his hands clenching the armrests of his chair.

  “Sir?” the other officer said, leaning forward a bit in his chair.

  “Clay,” Kristen said quietly, stepping up behind him to touch his shoulder. Just a nudge. Something to ground him. “Did you hear…”

  “Yeah.” His voice was raspy. “I heard. She… You’re sure it was Amanda? Positive?”

  “We don’t speak to the family without being positive,” the first officer said, regret in his voice. Kristen could tell he would like nothing more than to say Yes, this is all a misunderstanding. So sorry to have wasted your time. But then he’d just have to go through this ritual with another family somewhere.

  “I…I’m not sure…” Clay looked up at her, and she immediately sat beside him and laced her fingers with his, squeezing silently. “What do I… Oh Jesus. Shit. Oh God. Stan.”

  Kristen froze for a moment, then recalled. His nephew. His sister’s son. No…

  “Was he in the car?” Clay’s voice was firm now, as if having something to focus on—to hope for—gave him the strength. “Her son, thirteen months old. Stanley. Was he in the car?”

  “No.” The second officer shook his head. “There was a car seat but no child in the vehicle. We’ve ascertained she dropped him off at his day care before the accident. He’s still there and will stay there until social services can get involved.”

  “I’m his uncle.” Clay stood so quickly the chair flew back and his legs bumped into the conference table, shaking it. “I’m going to go get him. I have to get him. I have to…” He started breathing heavily, and Kristen squeezed his hand again, forcing him to focus. Forcing him to stay in the moment, not get ahead.

  “Can you tell us how to claim him?” she asked the officers quietly. “Is there a protocol so we can get him before the end of business day and he’s not taken to a temporary foster family? Paperwork or an interview? Anything?”

  “Here’s the card for the office. You can call, and they’ll walk you through. I won’t claim to know everything about the system and all the hoops, but my guess is as
her nearest and closest living relative, with a clean record I’m sure the coach has, it won’t be an issue. But call the number.” The second officer slid her the card, clearly sensing she was the more levelheaded of the two and would keep track of it.

  “Coach Barnes, I’m very sorry for your loss.” The first officer stood and held out a hand. Clay stared at it a moment, as if he forgot what the gesture meant, before reaching out to shake.

  “Thank you,” Kristen said, then pushed on Clay’s shoulder. “You sit,” she said firmly. He didn’t argue—didn’t even look at her—before complying and staring at a wall. “I’m going to walk them out, and then I’ll be back.”

  Clay just stared straight ahead.

  “Officers, if you’ll follow me.” She noticed they hesitated only a moment before coming along.

  Gone. Almost his entire family, gone.

  Stanley. Stan the Man was all he had left. He needed to get the boy. Needed…

  Clay dug the heels of his hands into his eyes for a moment. Just a moment of respite from the pressure.

  “Clay.”

  A soft voice filled the room, and then a softer touch brushed over the back of his neck. Kristen sat beside him, just rubbing over his shoulders and back while he kept his head down.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said after a minute that felt like an hour. “So, so sorry. What can I do?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice sounded so strange. Like listening to himself through a tunnel. “I don’t…I’m not…” And then, riding a flood of embarrassment, he felt a knot form in his throat. “Jesus,” he managed to croak out before it broke him.

  Just before his forehead hit the table, Kristen slid into his lap, let him lay his head on her chest, and just held him while he sobbed.

  Kristen knocked softly on the door to the Bobcats’ head coach office. “Coach Jordan?”

  He held up a finger, indicating to give him a moment, flipped a page in his binder, then glanced up with a polite smile. “What can I do for you, Kristen?”