Changing Her Plans (Santa Fe Bobcats)

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Changing Her Plans (Santa Fe Bobcats) Page 21

by Jeanette Murray


  “But it’s not like we would bring the whole baseball team. I wouldn’t have distracted him. I would have stood quietly in the back.”

  Kristen glanced over, saw her son was actually upset, and paused the movie. “Honey.”

  “I like him. And I’m mad I couldn’t be there for him.” Isaac’s cheeks were flushed with temper. “Why can’t you two just get along enough that I can go to his sister’s funeral, or he can come back and coach our team?”

  He was normally so levelheaded, so easygoing it was hard for Kristen to remember at times, he was still a teenage boy with wildly swinging emotions and hormones. “Isaac. I wish it were that simple. God, I do. Coach Barnes…Clay… He was a one-in-a-million guy for me. And we are getting along. It’s just best, for today, that we give him space. Please try to understand that.”

  Isaac’s face said he didn’t, but he just shrugged his shoulders and hunched over the popcorn bowl territorially.

  There went any hope of Kristen getting some of that salty, buttery goodness.

  This was that moment of parenting Kristen hated. The fine line of not treating him like a child but remembering he wasn’t a fully mature adult either.

  We’re all just winging it.

  She smiled just a little at the memory of her parenting advice to Clay.

  “Okay, bud. Let’s talk.” When Isaac merely glanced at her from under his lashes, she set the remote and candy on the coffee table and crossed her legs, facing him on the couch. He relented and moved one knee up so he could face her.

  “I wanted Clay and I to work, even more than you did. I tried. Clay tried. If he walked in that door right now and said he made a mistake and wanted to give it another shot, I’d happily go round two.” Or was it round three? “But I also can’t push myself on him. It’s not fair to him, or Stanley, if I make it harder for him to learn the parenting game. I love him.” She placed a hand over her aching heart and watched her son soften in sympathy. “I love him so much. And Stanley too. I watched you and that little boy bond. And I watched you and Clay connect. It hurts my heart that we’re missing out on that. All four of us.”

  “And you can’t fix it.” His voice was full of resignation now, not accusation.

  “I’d try, but he’s not ready to let me.” Running a hand over Isaac’s hair, she sighed. “This is a lot to put on your plate. I’m trusting you with this information because I think you’re mature enough to handle it. You’re mature enough to hear your mom’s disappointed without freaking out.”

  “I’m not freaking out,” he scoffed. Which made her bite back a chuckle.

  The doorbell rang, and she reached over to the side table and grabbed the cash she’d laid there. “Pizza’s here.”

  “Pizza? I thought we were doing junk food only,” he said sullenly.

  “Pizza is junk food, you human garbage disposal. Woman cannot survive on Twizzlers alone. The pizza at least provides a grain and the suggestion of dairy. Go pay for the pie and bring it back.”

  “Yeah, fine.” Grumbling good-naturedly, Isaac snatched the cash from her hand, set the popcorn bowl down, and walked to the front door.

  And Kristen let herself breathe for a moment. Sinking back into the cushions of the couch, she finally allowed her mind to connect with her body’s reactions. Racing heart, aching stomach, shaking hands, clammy skin… If an innocent bystander wandered along, they might think she was having a heart attack and call 911.

  She was mature enough to know, eventually, these physical reactions would fade until hearing Clay’s name was nothing more than a gentle squeeze to the heart and a fond memory of a happy moment. But for now it hurt. It hurt like a living hell.

  “Mom?”

  “Yeah, baby.” She composed herself as much as she could and turned to look at her son in the doorway.

  And found Clayton Barnes instead.

  “Hi,” he said softly, frozen in place just barely inside the living room entry.

  “Hi,” she returned.

  Then they both just stared at each other.

  “Oh, for the love of God.” Isaac huffed out a breath and edged around Clay in an effort to get to his mother. When he bent down, he whispered in her ear, “Please don’t give up. I want you to be happy.” Then he kissed her cheek, which was already wet with a tear, and headed for Clay. Isaac held out a hand to shake—causing another tear to roll and join the first—and said something in a low voice to the older man.

  Clay nodded, then laughed and gave Isaac a hug. Just as he was releasing the teen, the doorbell rang again.

  “I think that’s really the pizza now,” Isaac said with a grin.

  “Why don’t you get the pizza and scram for a while? Take the thing over to my house,” Clay suggested. “Trey and Cassie have Stan.” Isaac agreed and took off with a whoop. Kristen listened for the door opening, a quick, low exchange of voices, and then the door slamming. Isaac had clearly taken Clay literally and paid for the pizza and gone straight to his car with the pie.

  Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard the engine of his beater start a moment later.

  And then there were two.

  “Can I come in?” Clay asked seriously.

  “Of course.” Kristen reached down to move the remote and got a good look at her sweatpants. Not quite how she’d envisioned seeing Clay again next. She was supposed to be at work, with her best pencil skirt that showed off her curves and four-inch heels, looking polished and unbroken. “I, uh… Movie night,” she finally said, gesturing to the plethora of candy, popcorn and other snacks that surrounded the couch.

  “Sounds like a good night.” Clay smiled a little and came to sit down on the other side of the couch. He hadn’t chosen the chair, which was close enough for a conversation, but he also hadn’t chosen the cushion closest to her. It was some sort of awkward halfway point and left her baffled about his intentions.

  “How’s Stanley?” she asked when he didn’t speak.

  “Good, good.” Clay rubbed his hands together, rocked back and forth a bit, looking nervous. “He’s fine. Totally unaware. He’s with Trey and Cassie right now. You probably heard that part. Practice, they said. She’s pregnant.”

  “I know.” No, Cassie hadn’t told her, but Kristen had spotted how the woman wrinkled her nose at the scent of coffee—something she’d previously salivated for—and that she’d been making more frequent trips to the restroom in the morning. And she wouldn’t say a word until Cassie was ready to reveal. Every woman deserved to share her pregnancy when she was ready.

  “Right. Of course you do.” Clay watched her as if she was supposed to say something next.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t attend the service,” she said, her voice cracking a bit. She cleared her throat and continued. “I didn’t want to distract you.”

  He nodded but said nothing.

  And the silence was killing her. “I hope you aren’t mad. I just thought you needed support. It started smaller, with just the coaches, a few players. But—”

  “You don’t have to apologize. You were right.”

  That shut her up.

  Then he sighed. “I’m screwing this up.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re doing, so thus far, nothing’s screwed up.”

  He stood and took the seat beside her, and her heart kicked up a beat.

  “I made a mistake.”

  “I think we both did,” she said softly.

  “No, don’t try to soften the blow. I made the error in thinking I knew better.”

  She settled back against the arm of the couch to keep from throwing her arms around him.

  “I wanted to protect you. From me, from the situation, from your own selflessness… I love you. God, I love you so damn much, and it scared the shit out of me to think that you’d walk into a relationship with me and two years later, look at me with regret. Because you weren’t doing the things you wanted to do. Weren’t able to attack life like you dreamed of.”

  She started to speak, to deny w
hat he was saying, but he pressed a finger to her lips.

  “Let me get this out, please. Just…let me do this first. Then you can say anything you need to say.”

  She nodded but pressed a barely-there kiss to his finger before he lowered it. His eyes closed momentarily, as if savoring the touch before opening again. Fierce. His gaze was fierce and intense and she was drawn in.

  “Stanley will always be the most important person in my life. I can’t change that. I won’t change that. And I’m guessing, because of Isaac, you understand it and don’t disagree.” She shook her head, but he kept going without waiting. “But you…you’re the future I want. I’ve been thinking about that, about raising Stanley and being content with him as my only child. If I’d regret it myself. If I’d feel like I lost something.”

  She swallowed, and it felt like razor blades in her throat.

  “But you said it earlier. Dreams change. They mold and shift because of who we are when we dream them and who we become while we’re chasing them. I’m still experiencing fatherhood, just not the way I ever expected to. It isn’t less, it’s just different.”

  The tears were rolling freely now, and she had to physically hug herself to keep from launching herself at him.

  “So what I guess I’m saying is, I’m done trying to protect you from yourself. I love you, and that means I trust you. I trust that you know your own mind and that you’ll think things through before you jump into anything. I love you, which means I know your heart and that you wouldn’t treat Stanley any other way than with affection and care. I love you and that means I have to lay it all on the line, or else I won’t deserve you. I’ll grovel if I have to. Because Kristen, you’re worth more than my pride, my ego, anything that’s in me.”

  She waited, still blinking the tears from her eyes, but he didn’t speak. He shrugged and settled back a bit.

  “Can I talk now?”

  “Oh. Right.” He laughed, but it was shaky. “Of course. Go ahead.”

  “We were both so worried about stealing each other’s dreams…and both of them had already changed.” It made her chuckle, even through the tears. “We’re a mess.”

  “My mess.” He gave her a lopsided smile and tousled her already-disastrous hair.

  “My dream shifted too. My dreams for the future changed when I met Stanley and realized this was your future. Because I don’t want a future without you either. And Stan the Man’s a part of you.”

  He smiled at his own nickname for his nephew but stayed quiet.

  “I had all these ideas of what life after Isaac was in college would look like. Travel, trying new things, exploring new places. Things I couldn’t afford before, when I was feeding a human garbage disposal. And I’m realizing now, I won’t give up on those things.” She smiled. “Stanley’s just going to have to get a passport, I guess.”

  He barked out a laugh, but she wasn’t finished.

  “I tried to push you away when we wanted different things. You tried to push me away for the same reason. I think it’s time we stopped dreaming separately and start dreaming together. As a family.”

  He started to reach for her but then held back. “Something’s missing.”

  Already poised to jump at him, Kristen sat back on her haunches. “What?”

  “Earlier, before…” Clay ran a hand over his face, then his body tensed. “Worth more than my ego,” he muttered to himself. Then to her, “You haven’t said it…but you’ve shown me in every possible way that you love me.”

  “Oh,” she breathed, then fought to not smile. “I never said it, did I…”

  His expression hardened. “And I’ve screwed up royally since then. So I’ve got to earn it back.”

  “Too late,” she sang, then threw her body at him, sending him tumbling back to the couch cushions. Stretched out on top of him, front to front, she grinned at his shocked face. “Gotcha.”

  He arched his neck up, lips an inch away from hers, when he whispered, “Say it.”

  “Can’t earn back what you never lost.”

  He nipped at her bottom lip. “No. Say them.”

  “Them.”

  “Smart ass,” he groused, then cupped the back of her head and kissed her until she couldn’t breathe. “The words.”

  “I love you,” she said on a gasp, pulling back. “Clay, I love you so much.”

  “And you’ll marry me.”

  “What?” she shrieked, sitting back up.

  Clay sighed and sat up as well, keeping his legs around her body. “We love each other. We’re in it for the long haul. I sure as hell learned my mistake. I’m not letting you go. You can’t disagree with any of that.”

  “Oh, I’m not disagreeing,” Kristen said, slapping a hand on his chest when he reached for her.

  “So the problem is?”

  “The problem is, that was the weakest proposal I think I’ve ever heard of!”

  Clay stared at her, mouth slightly open, then shut it. His jaw tightened, his eyes grew steely with determination…

  And Kristen knew just a single second of trepidation.

  That was before she went sailing over Clay’s shoulder as he stood up, his arms locked over her legs. She made an oomph sound as he stood and started walking.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “Upstairs. Apparently, I need to practice my proposing skills. You’re going to help me.”

  “Where, in bed?” she asked, slapping his butt for emphasis as they hit the stairs.

  “In bed. On the floor. Bent over the bathroom counter… I want this proposal to be memorable. So you’ll just have to help me get it right.”

  “Oh, if I have to,” she said on an exaggerated sigh, then laughed as he tossed her onto the bed and crawled over her.

  Two hours later, Clay relaxed into the mattress, loving the feel of Kristen’s hot, sweat-slicked skin against his. “I think I was too hasty when I told Isaac to take the pizza and scram.”

  “Hungry?” She twirled her fingers over his stomach, making the ab muscles tighten in response.

  “I could use some energy for round two.”

  “I think you mean round three.” She kissed his neck and snuggled closer. “You still haven’t officially asked, you know.”

  “I thought I just did. Several times.” When she tugged on a bit of his chest hair, he laughed and flattened her fingers with his. “Okay, all right. Vicious.”

  “When I want something, you bet.”

  “Then who am I to deny?” He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. His breath caught for just a moment at the realization he was looking down at the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. Would die for. She was his, for good. “Kristen. I love you more than I’ve ever known it was possible to love a woman. I can’t picture my life without you in it. Will you marry me?”

  He watched as the teasing light in her eyes softened to love and joy. “Now that,” she whispered, “was a proposal. Yes. Absolutely.”

  He kissed her hard, then broke off when his stomach growled. Kristen laughed. “Maybe we really should have made Isaac bring the pizza back.”

  “I’ll do you one better. Let’s order another one and have it meet us at home. Isaac should already be over there with Cassie and Trey. Share the good news. Send the parents-to-be home so they can enjoy their last few months of quiet. Then we can celebrate together. Like a family.”

  “Like a family,” she agreed dreamily, a smile slowly spreading as if she’d just now connected the dots and loved how the picture turned out. “Oh, yes. Let’s do that.”

  Clay sat up to text Trey that they would be back within an hour. Kristen grabbed her phone, presumably to contact Isaac. But after just a minute of waiting for Trey’s response, Kristen started giggling.

  “What?” He glanced over her shoulder, and she showed him the text she’d received from Isaac.

  IB: Does this mean I’m getting a baby brother?

  Clay grinned, nuzzled at Kristen’s neck, and whis
pered, “Text him yes.”

  Epilogue

  “Why do these seats have to be so gosh darn hard?”

  Clay glanced over and watched as his wife shifted on the bleachers. “They’re aluminum. What more did you want? I told you we could turn back for the seat pads.”

  “And miss them running through the tunnel?” Kristen shot him a look that asked How big of an idiot are you?

  “Since you insisted on getting here over an hour early, I think we would have made it,” he replied dryly. When her knee kept bouncing beside him, he reached out to grab her hand. “Relax. It’s fine.”

  “It’s his first year on varsity,” she shot back. “He’s just a baby.”

  “He’s fifteen and bigger than half the seniors.” As it turned out, Stephen Harrison’s prediction based on Stanley’s toddler size had been correct. There had been a moment of regret as Clay mourned the idea of his son turning into a quarterback…which had been immediately squashed when he watched Stan’s lightning-quick reflexes on the line. The boy had instincts that rivaled some college players with regard to offensive movement and catching the tiniest of holes to squeeze through. He’d led the conference in sacks his freshman year on JV—and would have been a varsity standout if the school’s policy on freshmen not playing up hadn’t existed.

  “Geez, Mom never got this nervous about any of my baseball games,” Isaac said from beside Clay. Wearing his brother’s number proudly, Isaac had made the drive over from Arizona, where he lived and worked as the assistant coach for his alma mater’s baseball team. “First night, think he’ll get a sack?”

  “Don’t put pressure on him!” Kristen said, glaring at her oldest. “It’s his first game, and they’re just kids.”

  “Who said anything about pressure? The squirt can’t hear me from up here,” Isaac said.

  “That squirt is taller than you and outweighs you by a good twenty pounds,” Clay reminded his stepson.

  “Yeah, well—”

  “How’s Alyssa?” Clay cut in, knowing the mention of Isaac’s on-again, off-again girlfriend would shut him right up.

  True to form, Isaac shot daggers at Clay and swiveled around to face forward.

 

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