Restoring Hope

by Smith, C. P.

  Nic reached Hope the same time as the rest of the team, and started shoving people away so he could get to her. When the ball collided with her head his heart about stopped. She was lying in the grass; her knees bent and a hand over her eyes when he reached her. Relieved to see she wasn’t knocked out, he kneeled down, put his mouth to her ear and whispered, “That’s not how you stop a ball, baby.”

  She opened her eyes to look at him and moaned, “There are two of you.”

  “That’s it, game over, we’re going to the hospital,” Nic ordered and then picked her up, cradled her in his arms and carried her towards the bench.

  “Dad, is she okay?” Nicky shouted; concern written across his face.

  “She’ll have a goose egg by nightfall if not sooner,” he told his son.

  He was surprised Hope didn’t fight him when he carried her; she’d laid her head on his shoulder and kept her eyes shut. When he reached the bench, he laid her down and put a towel under her head.

  “You hanging in there, sugar?” Nic asked her cupping her face and running his thumb back and forth across her cheek.

  “Still two of you, lucky me,” Hope whispered trying to breathe through her headache. She pulled the hat off her head, and then pulled the ponytail holder from her hair. The pressure from being pulled back all day wasn’t helping, and when her hair was free, she felt relief. The ball had hit her in the same spot as her ponytail, and she figured she owed not being knocked clean out to her fashion sense. She opened her eyes, and watched as Nic and Nicky gathered their things. She felt bad Nic had to cut the game short, but she wasn’t going to argue about seeing a doctor; she knew head injuries could be serious. As she waited, Kat moved to them both, running her hand through her son’s hair, smiling at him, and then she put her hand to Nic’s arm stopping him.

  “Sugar, you’re all hot, why don’t we go someplace cool and grab a bite to eat.”

  “Can’t,” Nic replied gruffly and Hope watched his jaw get tight.

  “Don’t say can’t, you’ll disappoint Nicky,” Kat pouted and if Hope could have rolled her eyes without hurting more she would have. Does this woman really think pouting works on men?

  “I’m not hungry, besides, Hope got hurt and we need to take her to the doctor,” Nicky jumped in to keep his parents from fighting. Blue eyes, almost as blue as her own turned to Hope, and she watched as the woman turned cold as ice.

  “I see, well, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to your favorite waitress.” The word waitress came out as an insult, as if waiting tables was beneath her.

  Nic barked “Kat,” and Kat turned her eyes to him, softening her face. “Yeah, sugar?” she purred and Nic leaned in and hissed, “Take your claws and go home.” Nic then walked around her, came to Hope with his bag thrown over his shoulder, bent down and without saying a word picked her up again and started heading for his car. Nicky hollered, “I’m coming with you,” then grabbed his bag and followed his father.

  Kat stood there watching as her husband and son walked briskly to his car. She realized they’d both forgotten all about her for some blonde bimbo who didn’t know when to duck. Narrowing her eyes at the three of them, she made a note to herself to find out more about the harlot who seemed to have her husband’s attention.

  The waiting room was crowded, but that was no surprise, so Nic found two seats in the corner for him and Nicky to sit while they waited for Hope. Luckily for their stomachs, the hospital was equipped with a variety of vending machines selling everything from coffee, pop and milk to tuna sandwiches and salad, so they both grabbed a snack while they waited. Nic watched as one person after another came out from the back, wishing he could be inside to hear what the doctor said. The waiting game didn’t set well with a man like Nic; he liked to be in charge of the situation, not at the mercy of others.

  After several hours of waiting, snacks consumed and the choice of magazines exhausted, he realized Nicky had gone quiet. When he turned to his son, he caught him staring and turned his eyes to see a teenage girl with blonde hair the color of Chelsea’s and his chest tightened for a moment.

  “You okay, Nicky?” he questioned; knowing the resemblance to his sister wouldn’t go unnoticed.

  “Yeah, I miss her ya know? We fought a lot, but I loved her.”

  “I know you did, bud.”

  “I just wish . . . I should have said something sooner,” Nicky whispered, and he watched his son’s lip quiver.

  “Said what?”

  “I knew, I mean I did, but I didn’t . . . I found her pot, but she told me it was oregano. I didn’t know any better, so I believed her.”

  “Nicky it wasn’t your job to look out for your sister, it was mine. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Nic assured him; troubled that his son carried any guilt about his sister’s death. The blame belongs with you.

  “You don’t understand; she was using before you and Mom split up,” Nicky explained. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and Nic wrapped an arm around his son and leaned in.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve heard you and Mom argue about whose fault it is that she started using. Dad, it wasn’t because of you or Mom, she started using before Mom cheated on you.”

  Nic closed his eyes; he didn’t think his son knew why they’d divorced. He’d always told them that sometimes people grow apart ‘cause he didn’t want to place blame, have his kids look at their mother differently.

  “Nicky, I should have been home more, it’s my fault not—”

  “No, Dad, I asked her why she did drugs. She told me because it’s fun; all the cool kids do it. Her friend Wendy told me they did them to fit in.”

  Nic sat in shock. Did Chelsea take drugs because they were cool? He looked at his son, tall for his age, good-looking and he wondered if Nicky felt the need to be cool.

  “Drugs don’t make you cool, Nicky, they—”

  “Drugs killed my sister,” Nicky spit out, “You don’t have to worry, Dad, I’d rather be a nerd gettin’ beat up every day than try that stuff.” Relief swept through Nic; his son was a shit liar, and he saw nothing but truth and anger from him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?” Nic asked and watched as his son’s face blanched. Taking a deep breath, Nicky looked at his shoes. “Cause Chelsea and I had a pact never to rat the other out. It was the last secret I had of hers,” Nicky told him, stumbling over his words, trying to be the man he was turning into much faster than Nic wanted. So, he let him be, knowing his son wouldn’t want comfort right now, he’d want to put on a brave face.

  Mon Dieu, had his ‘tite ange done drugs to fit in?

  Clearing his throat, and trying to act like he wasn’t emotional about what he’d just told his father, Nicky straightened, and looked at the door to the ER. As he stared, Hope emerged from the back, an icepack on the back of her head, and Nicky thought not for the first time she was hot. But, she was too old for him, like, way too old, so he figured she’d be perfect for his dad, and if he wasn’t mistaken, and he didn’t think he was, his dad was already interested in her. Why else would they have spent three hours at the hospital on a Saturday?

  Chapter Ten

  Leaning back against the headrest in Nic’s car, Hope tried not to think about why she’d pitched that ball before she and Nic were ready. Examining her actions would do her no good, whatever her reasons for reacting recklessly towards Nic staring at his ex-wife, it didn’t matter—she was leaving in a week. She’d spent the last week, since Nic had tried to kiss her, telling herself it was just a crush on a nice guy. That with space and time her feelings for him would change. Obviously, her reaction to Nic staring at his ex-wife meant she was just fooling herself. All week she’d avoided him, and kept to herself at the bar to make leaving easier for everyone. Then Big Daddy had begged her to play today, given her the day off for the game, and she’d stupidly agreed.

  Playing softball, a sport she loved, and hanging with Nic and his son had br
oken through the wall she’d tried to piece back together this week, and her feelings for Nic were now front and center again. She needed to leave soon, before the walls came tumbling down making it impossible for her to leave.

  Drifting back to her surroundings, it occurred to her that the car was quiet. Nic seemed lost in thought as he drove and when she glanced at Nicky in the backseat, he had his head resting in his hand staring out the window at the passing cars. Looking back and forth between the two, she got the feeling that something had happened while she was examined.

  Within a few minutes, Nic pulled his car into a neighborhood with houses that could only be described as mansions. Two and three-story homes with large yards, custom landscaping and expensive vehicles parked out front. He slowed to a stop in front of a two-story gem with a red tile roof that looked like it belonged in Hollywood. It seemed a mixture of craftsman and Spanish influence, with dormers across the front with lights burning bright. It had a large front porch the length of the house, with rock covered columns that led to a large wood door with divided light windows on both sides. It was off white in color and looked to be covered in stucco. There was a Mercedes parked in the driveway, and when he put the car into park, the front door opened and Kat walked out onto the front porch.

  Nic didn’t say a word, just opened his door and got out. Nicky turned and grabbed his bag and just before he got out; he looked back at her and with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes said, “Glad you’re ok, T-Hope.” Then he opened his door and got out as she tried to say goodbye.

  Seeing both Nic and Nicky like this bothered her. The more she watched them as they walked to the house; she was convinced something was wrong.

  Nic stopped short when he got to the front porch, said something to Nicky, and he nodded his head and then ran inside the house. He started talking, and she could tell by Kat’s reaction it was upsetting. Nic kept going as Kat threw her hands over her mouth and within moments launched herself into Nic’s arms crying. Hope felt her throat tighten watching them; whatever was going on she was sure it had to do with their daughter.

  Nic didn’t hesitate to hold his ex-wife, she may have cheated on him, but she adored their children and was devastated when Chelsea died. She sobbed into his neck as he held her; finding out your daughter died because she wanted to be popular was hard to wrap your mind around. There were tragedies in life, senseless killings, car accidents that took fathers and mothers, drunks who were selfish and got behind the wheel, but this? Dieu, he didn’t think he’d ever come to terms with this.

  Rubbing his hand up and down her back, she finally pulled back and wiped her eyes free of the makeup that ran under them. She looked up at him, and her bottom lip quivered. It was the first time in a long time he saw the girl he’d fallen in love with. She’d changed so much from that girl from Georgia who’d had dreams of family, hearth and home. Leaning in, he kissed her forehead to give her comfort and then turned to go.

  “Aren’t’ you staying?” Kat asked confused.

  “No, Kat, I gotta get Hope back to her place so she can rest.”

  “Why on earth is she still with you?’’ She hissed.

  “Hospital was full, took longer than expected to see a doctor.”

  “Nic, she’s just some waitress, you should have had that Big Daddy guy take her, for goodness sakes.”

  “Jesus you’re somethin else. Hope is a friend and I’m not gonna argue with you, not tonight of all nights, woman. You’re emotional, and I’ve got no patience for bullshit.”

  He watched her narrow her eyes and then she snapped out “What kind of friend?” as she looked over his shoulder at the street. Before he could answer her, she marched past him heading for his car. Nic tried to grab her arm, but she pulled free, moving quickly on those damn high-heeled shoes she always wore.

  “Kat, get back in the house,” Nic ordered as he caught up with his ex.

  “This is my family,” Kat shrieked through the window at Hope.

  “Jesus, woman, are you insane?” Nic ground out. Kat wheeled around and got in his face, and Hope felt the color drain from her own as she watched Nic’s face grow hard. A dangerous looking anger she’d seen before in another man crossed his face, and she braced herself for what would come next.

  “Haven’t I lost enough? Haven’t we both lost enough?” Kat screamed.

  “Get. In. The. House.” Nic repeated his jaw tight, but he didn’t put a hand on her.

  “Why? So you can leave with that slut and forget you have a family that needs you?” Nic’s head fell back looking at the heavens. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but still he didn’t put a hand on his wife. Hope realized she was panting, holding onto the handle of the passenger door ready to bolt once he started swinging. When she saw Nic tip his head back and take a deep breath to calm himself, it finally sank in that he wasn’t going to hit Kat. How fucked up was she that she automatically assumed Nic would put a hand on his ex-wife?

  Hope turned her eyes from the fight and looked out the side window trying to stop shaking. She heard him say, “Nicky’s watching out the window, you need to get inside.” Kat replied, “Nic, we need you,” in a voice that sounded like a lost child, and Hope closed her eyes at that sound of her desperation and wished she could slink away and leave.

  “Yeah? Nic bit out, “Well your family needed you when you were off fuckin' every guy in town.”

  She heard Kat gasp and then the sound of heels running away pulled Hope from the window, and she turned in time to see the front door slam shut. Nic stood there looking at the house and then bent his head to stare at the ground, hands on his hips, a look of exhaustion on his face. He stayed there a moment longer, just breathing in and out trying to control his anger. Raising his head, he turned to the car and took the few steps needed to reach it, opened the door, folded his large frame and then climbed in.

  Hope kept her eyes down, her hands folded in her lap, and waited as he sat there staring out the windshield.

  “She took drugs to fit in,” he finally whispered.

  “Who?” Hope asked, but she had a bad feeling she knew the answer.

  “Chelsea, my daughter, she started using drugs so she could be popular.” Hope’s breath caught and without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his hand.

  “Nic—”

  “My ‘tite ange is dead because she wanted to be cool,” Nic mumbled and his hand tightened around hers.

  “I’m so sorry, Nic.”

  “Yeah, so am I,” he sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner because I worked too damn much. I’m sorry that I didn’t teach her that drugs don’t make you cool. And I’m sorry I left her in a rehabilitation clinic; that her last days were filled with thoughts that I didn’t care enough to make her better myself,” he bit out his face blank as his dead eyes looked at her. “I better get you home so you can rest,” he mumbled and then let go of her hand and started the car.

  Nic was quiet the whole way to his condo; his jaw was tight, fingers flexing on the steering wheel and Hope tried to think of words to ease his pain. Her own loss was heartbreaking, and even though she never held her son, she would have given anything to have him here with her. But Nic’s grief hadn’t come full circle yet, he blamed himself as all parents do. She should have left when she found out she was pregnant, but didn’t out of fear. Nic blamed himself because he thought he should have done something different, and she understood that. She knew there was nothing she could say that would change his mind because it is a parent’s job to protect their child from everything. Yet, no matter how good a parent you are, sometimes, bad things just happen to good people. Period. No rhyme or reason for it, they just happen.

  When they pulled in front of his condo, and he turned off the car, Hope turned to him and in a gentle voice told him, “I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong for feeling the way you do. You lost your daughter, and that is beyond any pain a man or woman should have to bear. I’m sorry for your pain, and I wish I’d gotten
a chance to meet your daughter.”

  “You would have liked her. She had a hell of a sense of humor, was always playing practical jokes on her brother and me.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Blonde, like her mother, same eyes, she was beautiful, perfect really.” Hope smiled and thought she probably was perfect having both Kat and Nic for parents. Kat may have been a shrew, but she was a beautiful woman nonetheless.

  “I’m sure she was lovely, Nic,” she replied and then grabbed the handle of her door to open it. Nic touched her on the arm and Hope turned back to him and watched as he scanned her face.

  “How’s your head?”

  “Better, I’ll be fine. Thank you for, well, for taking care of me, I guess.”

  “Least I can do for the star pitcher,” Nic grinned.

  “Yeah, well, I think my pitching days are over.”

  “Big Daddy will be sorry to hear that, nothin’ he likes better than kicking ass in the bar league,” Nic laughed and then it hit him it was the first time he’d laughed since Nicky had told him about Chelsea and he stared back at the reason why.

  Hope had given him permission to grieve, didn't try to tell him he’d get over it and move on some day. She wasn’t afraid to ask him about Chelsea, as if the mention of her name would send him over the edge. She didn’t say she knew how he felt or compared his loss to her grandmother’s death. She’d just said your feelings are justified; I’m sorry you're hurting, and those small considerations had calmed him down and helped him move past his anger. Looking at Hope, he felt the knot in his chest break loose, and a burning in his chest started to rise.

  “You okay, Nic?” she asked. He’d been laughing one second and then deep in thought the next.

  “No,” he replied looking back at her, searching her face again. His own face grew intensely, and she watched as something like determination grew in his eyes.