Despite his choice to step back from the team, Clay stayed through the entire practice. Kristen managed to get some sunscreen on Stanley, and a hat—though the child was unappreciative of both efforts. And after practice was over, several of the teens came over their way.
“Is this Stanley?” one asked, pointing to the boy on Kristen’s lap.
“Yup. This is Coach Barnes’s nephew.” She let the boy stand on her thighs, wincing when one of his shoes dug into her flesh.
“He’s a pretty cool dude. Watch.” Isaac reached for the boy again, then twirled him around. Kristen’s breath caught in her throat, but her son kept a firm grip, and Stanley laughed and kicked his feet at the feeling of weightlessness. The guys all asked questions and the group wandered away to a grassy area, where they put him down and let him crawl around and practice walking, holding on to shoulders and arms.
“You know it’s not a normal group of teenage boys when...” Sienna said under her breath.
“Don’t I know it. God bless our sons having a solid core of decent, kindhearted friends.”
Clay walked over at that moment, and she watched his eyes widen in momentary panic when he realized Kristen wasn’t holding the baby.
“He’s over there,” she said, pointing to the shaded area where the team sat. “Reveling in the attention of the older boys.”
Clay’s shoulders relaxed instantly, and he sat down on the bench. “Sorry about that. I just…I was here, and I didn’t want to leave and—”
“You don’t have to apologize.” She rubbed his arm and grimaced a little when it pulled muscles she’d abused the past ninety minutes. When he shot her a questioning glance, she shook her head. “Nothing. Just a little sore. That guy’s a big one.”
Clay’s face flushed. “I shouldn’t have stayed. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.”
“You didn’t ask; I offered. Stop,” she added on a whisper. “Just take a moment to relax and realize that Stanley is happy and he’s being watched by someone other than ourselves. That’s a pretty nice thing.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t sound convinced, but he did lean back against the bleachers to watch the team entertain his nephew.
Kristen called Cassie Owens later that night, stepping out into the evening air so she wouldn’t disturb her son on the couch or Clay upstairs. Or, God forbid, the baby.
“Hey, Kristen,” Cassie answered on the second ring. “Are you doing okay? How’s Coach Barnes doing?”
“He’s fine. Well, fine is a relative term,” she qualified. “Thank Trey again for us for coming over to help set the crib up. It was above and beyond and very generous.”
“He was happy to do it, seriously. He joked about having the whole routine down pat now, so when we’re ready for that step, he can have ours assembled in no time flat.” She laughed softly. “Can I help with anything?”
“We need a sitter. I don’t know that Clay would be comfortable with day care just yet, but he’s going to have to start leaving the house for things, and I have to return to work on Monday. I’ll be out of town over the weekend, so I figured I would ask now. I also thought he’d be more comfortable with someone who isn’t, you know, a high schooler. Do you know any wives who might be willing to earn some decent cash for a week or two while he decides what the full-time plan is for Stanley?”
“You know…maybe. Any other stipulations besides not a high schooler?”
Kristen laughed. “I’m pretty sure I know all the wives, at least by name, and none of them are remotely in high school.”
“That’s true enough. Let me double-check first, and then we’ll go from there. Sound good?”
“Sounds great. Thanks, Cassie.”
She hung up the phone, grateful she’d have a lead on someone to watch Stanley during the day.
The thought of leaving Clay and Stanley over the weekend broke her heart, but it had to be done. She’d already committed to the out-of-town tournament as a chaperone, and this wasn’t one her ex could meet Isaac at and stay with him. Yes, she could call another parent and ask to switch chaperoning duties or just skip going since they were two chaperones over the usual number, but it wasn’t something she wanted to do. This was her one and only son. Her baby. And this was, likely, his last year playing travel baseball. She needed to go.
This was ridiculous. She’d have to leave them alone eventually. Clay was a responsible adult, who loved his nephew. He’d have questions, but that was what the phone was for. He’d figure things out and make mistakes, just like any first-time parent. She was worrying for nothing.
So why did she feel like crap about it?
Chapter 19
Clay sat down at the kitchen table with his cool cup of coffee and wondered if this was just the first of many room temperature caffeine hits he’d be taking over the years. But today he’d succeeded in getting up with Stanley before Kristen. And he was pretty sure—please God be sure—that Stanley hadn’t woken up through the night, meaning Kristen got a full night’s sleep.
Just as he began to shush Stanley as the child banged his fork on the high chair tray, Isaac walked in. The teen’s hair stuck out every which way, his eyes were still half-closed, and he scratched at his T-shirt-clad chest while shuffling into the kitchen. “Mornin’,” he said through a yawn. “Bathroom?”
Clay knew he’d used it at least once before but understood the kid was basically one step up from a zombie. “That way. First door. Watch the—”
Thump.
“Ow,” Isaac moaned.
“Watch the door frame,” Clay tried again, wincing. “Sorry.”
“Yeah. It’s cool. I don’t hardly ever use that side of my brain anyway.” Isaac waved an arm from around the corner, which delighted Stanley into a high-pitched shriek of amusement.
“That was pretty funny, wasn’t it?” Clay asked the younger boy in a conspiratorial whisper. “We just won’t tell our friend Isaac how much fun that was. No we won’t.”
“What’s fun?” Kristen walked up behind him, letting her fingertips glide over the back of his neck as she leaned in to make a silly noise in Stanley’s neck.
Stanley shrank back in surprise, then laughed and looked up at Kristen with such longing, Clay’s head started to pound.
“Your son nailed his head on the door on the way to the bathroom.”
“Not surprised.” Clearly unconcerned for her son’s safety, Kristen went to the coffeepot and poured herself a mug. “He’s really not considered a full human being until at least ten in the morning.” The doorbell rang then, and she checked the time on the microwave. “Early.”
“Were you expecting someone?” Clay stood, but she shooed him back down.
“Yup. I’ll bring her in. Just stay with Stan.” He watched Stanley shovel food in his mouth the best he could with his fork, waiting for the sign to take over and finish the job. A minute later, Kristen came back in with a young lady behind her.
“Clay, I’m sure you’ve met Mellie Jordan, Coach Ken Jordan’s daughter.”
“I have, yes.” He stood and held out a hand to the lovely young woman standing in front of him. “It’s been close to a year though since we’ve seen each other, I believe.”
“Just about.” Mellie’s dark eyes smiled as she gave him a firm handshake in return. “Good to see you again, Coach. And this must be Stanley.” She walked over to sit beside Stanley on the other side of the kitchen table. “Hey, buddy. What are we eating this morning?”
“Eggs and toast,” Clay answered for Stanley, as the young boy babbled. Mellie smiled and nodded along, as if everything the child said made sense.
“Mellie is looking to make some cash before her freshman year of college. She’s going into elementary education, has extensive babysitting references with several other Bobcats families, and has not yet taken on a summer job. In short, she’s your perfect answer for childcare while you decide how to handle a more permanent situation.”
Mellie didn’t give any indication she minded bei
ng spoken about like she wasn’t there. Instead, she picked up Stanley’s abandoned fork and scooped up a bite of egg, making a choo-choo sound before feeding it to Stan.
“How… When did you set this up?”
“I made a call last night, answered a few texts today after I woke up, and she appeared on your doorstep like a childcare fairy dropped her off. It’s a good stopgap, Clay, while you pick out day cares that are near work. She doesn’t expect a full-time job, she’s available last second if you need to go somewhere, and she’s got experience. You can call her references, if you want—”
“Start with Stephen and Mags Harrison. I watch their daughter when Mags is in a meeting she can’t bring the baby to. Their baby girl is the cutest thing ever. How something so tiny came from someone so big is a mystery. Stephen, I mean, not Mags,” Mellie said without even looking their direction. Cleary, she was confident in her place.
“Uh, right. Yeah, well, clearly you’re responsible, and I doubt I need to call your references. So sounds good. We can hammer out schedules later today. Is that all right with you?”
“Sounds perfect.” Mellie nodded once, then fed Stanley a bite of toast.
“Hey, did I hear…” Isaac’s voice trailed off as he walked into the kitchen and found an unexpected visitor. Eyes wide, he looked around the kitchen wildly, as if searching for a place to hide. “Jesus Christ, Mom! Warning much?” He bolted into the living room.
“Mellie, you remember my son Isaac?” Kristen asked with humor in her voice.
“Sure do. You can tell him I said cute boxers.” The young lady stood and winked. “I’ve always been partial to the Road Runner.”
Clay chuckled to himself as Kristen showed Mellie back out.
One more problem she’d solved for him without a blink.
Isaac was already back at their house packing his bags when Kristen knew she had to go. But the idea of setting Stanley down and kissing Clay good-bye was hard. So damn hard.
“This feels silly, going back to work on a Friday.” She sighed. “But I’ll be gone all weekend for the tournament, and there’s some stuff piling up on my desk, and if I don’t get it done now, it will bug me the whole time I’m at the tournament. But remember, I won’t be coming back after the workday. I’ll head straight home, grab Isaac, and we’ll be off to the tournament.”
“It’s fine. I’ve got a few things to do myself, so Mellie is coming over in a little bit. I texted her while you were in the shower.” When she raised her brow in question, he added, “Funeral stuff. Just…stuff to do.”
Kristen turned her back on him to look for her purse—and to blink away the tears forming. After she coughed delicately, hooking the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she turned and asked, “Do you want me to come with you? That’s important. My stuff can wait.”
“No, go. You’ve already taken off so much time to be with us.” He caressed her cheek with the backs of two fingers. “You’re a miracle, you know that?”
“Hardly.” But her throat felt clogged again.
“Kristen, you’ve got to go.” Clay held out his arms for Stanley, but the boy leaned farther into her embrace, tucking his head in the crook of her neck.
“He likes me,” she whispered, grinning at him.
“Yeah well, what’s not to like?”
Kristen ran a hand over his head, then frowned. “Is he warm?”
“You’re inventing a reason to stay. Gimme.” More assertive, Clay pried Stanley out of her arms. The toddler whimpered but accepted the change of caregiver with enough ease that Kristen didn’t feel too guilty.
Kristen rubbed Stanley’s back, then leaned over and kissed Clay. Kissed him again. Okay, one more for the road…
Then Clay cupped the back of her neck, shifted Stanley farther over and hauled her in for a serious lip lock that had the toddler clapping and Kristen doing some serious mental applauding herself.
“Whoa,” she said when they resurfaced. “What was that for?”
“I’m going to miss the hell out of you.” Clay touched his forehead to hers, and they both closed their eyes for a moment. “Take video of Isaac batting. Remind him not to drop his elbow. And when he’s in the outfield, a step back is always worth two steps forward. And—”
“I’m going now!” she said, bolting for the door before he could give her any more instructions. There was no way she’d remember the ones he gave her. Clay was laughing as she slid into her car, and both he and Stanley waved from the driveway as she pulled away.
And it occurred to her that he’d known that, and made it easier for her to drive off without worrying.
Clay stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking around the room for his keys. “Where the hell…” He glanced up and caught Mellie hiding a smile in Stanley’s hair. “Sorry. Heck. Where the heck are my keys?”
“I’m assuming these aren’t what you’re looking for?” She held up a colorful plastic set of teething keys.
He blew out a breath, then let his hands fall to his sides. And winced when his pocket jingled.
“Found them?” Mellie asked with a cheeky grin.
Clay just gave her a narrowed look.
“Doesn’t faze me, Coach. You forget who my dad is. He’s got the intimidating glare down to a science.”
“Figures,” Clay muttered. “Okay, so I’ll be reachable by my cell at any point. Or I should be anyway. He’s pretty chill though.” He glanced around. “Shit, should I have written down his schedule or something?”
“We’ll figure it out. I’m pretty good on reading signals.” Mellie bounced Stanley on her hip, giving him a reassuring smile. “Really, Coach, I’ve got this. I’ll call if there are problems, but we’ll be fine.”
The young boy rested his head on Mellie’s shoulder, his eyes fluttering closed. Mellie’s hand came up to rub circles on his back.
Clearly, obviously, without a doubt the boy was in good hands.
So why did it feel like abandonment to leave his nephew behind?
“I’m about half an hour away, maybe a little more, depending. But I will break the sound barrier to get back if you need me,” he said.
Mellie nodded, not talking.
Clay frowned when Stanley’s eyes fluttered closed. “It’s a little early for his nap…”
“It’s fine. We’ll work it out,” she said softly, tilting her head toward the door in a not-so-subtle gesture of get going, dude. “I’ve got this, I promise.”
“But if not—”
“I’ll call, yes, absolutely.”
With reluctance, Clay tossed his keys one more time, fighting for a reason to stay. But there wasn’t one, and so he gave Mellie a wave. She lifted one hand off Stanley’s back in silent acknowledgment. The kid was out cold. He must be pretty comfortable with Mellie to trust so easily.
Amanda had done a fantastic job.
Two hours later, Clay walked out of the funeral director’s office, his hands shaking a little. His only saving grace had been Amanda’s will, which she’d created when Stanley was only a month old. He’d simply had to sit in the office and nod along as the director read off her wishes. Nothing more than agreeing and signing. No real thinking at all. If he’d had to really consider what to do with her body…
Remains, the director had called them. Not unkindly, but factually. As if that would help.
The second he got to his car, he checked his voice mail for the call he’d silenced while he’d been in the director’s office. Had it been Mellie, he would have answered in a heartbeat. But it hadn’t been.
He listened, then sighed and made a quick call to confirm with the lawyer that yes, he could be there in an hour. Then answered another call from the social worker that he needed to come in.
And he still hadn’t left the parking lot of the funeral home yet. Thank God he’d asked Mellie to stay all day, with the hopes he’d be done sooner than anticipated.
After leaving the lawyer’s office—paperwork on top of paperwork with a side of, oh yeah,
paperwork—he headed to the social worker’s office. Just as he pulled in, his phone rang again.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, but answered quickly when he saw it was Mellie. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong?” Mellie’s confused young voice echoed back at him. “Nothing’s wrong, Coach. I was just going to ask if Stanley had any allergies. I’m planning lunch, and it totally slipped my mind to ask you before you left.”
He rested his forehead on the steering wheel in relief. Allergies. This was probably something Kristen would have known to tell Mellie. She likely had a whole worksheet of stuff to fill out for the babysitter. “No allergies. He’s an eater, so he’ll probably devour anything you give him. Any food in the kitchen is game.”
“Awesome, then we’ll get along just fine.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Still asleep, actually.”
Clay blinked at the clock in his car. It was past noon already. “Still? Like, hasn’t woken up since I left?”
“Probably a growth spurt,” was Mellie’s confident answer. “Even kids who never nap are suddenly logs during a growth spurt. I see it all the time. If he’s not up in another hour, I’ll wake him for a late lunch and we’ll go from there. He’ll probably sleep great tonight. We’re doing fine, Coach. I promise. I’ve got this covered.”
“Thanks, Mellie. I’m heading into another meeting, so if you need me—”
“I won’t,” was her reply, a laugh in her voice. “Seriously, we’re fine.”
Clay hung up, spent time double-checking the papers the lawyer had given him to smooth the process, and walked into the office, file folder in hand. Hopefully, the fact that Amanda’s will named him as guardian of Stanley would carry additional weight to speed up the process.
Changing Her Plans (Santa Fe Bobcats) Page 17