by Claire Adams
“Perfect,” I said, liking it already.
We walked through an iron gate and were instantly immersed in overgrown foliage. “I guess you’d need to hire a landscaper,” he joked.
I laughed, loving it the more we walked towards the place. I could see potential where he saw a problem. “It looks to have a good-sized yard,” I pointed out.
“Yes, the property sits on two acres, which is almost unheard of anymore. If you could tame the vines and trees, it could be a nice yard.”
We approached the front door, and my initial enthusiasm faded a bit. There were boards over the windows, giving the place a very run-down, spooky appearance. He pushed open the door, and we were both overwhelmed by a musty odor.
“It’s going to need some airing out,” he said, waving a hand in front of his face.
I nodded but wasn’t completely turned off. The moment we walked into the house, I fell in love. The entire far wall was windows that faced the beach. It was a spectacular view. I could see an old lawn chair sitting on the porch.
“This is awesome!”
The young realtor looked at me as if I were crazy but quickly adopted my excited attitude. “The windows will likely need to be updated, along with the flooring,” he said, as we began our walkthrough.
I vigorously nodded, already making lists of what I wanted to change in the house. “Where are the bedrooms?” I asked.
The master suite was in great shape. There was a bedroom that faced the ocean, which I decided right then would be Ainsley’s. The other room could be a playroom.
“I want it.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want it. I’ll pay asking price, but I want it,” I said again, completely confident in my decision.
“Are you sure you don’t want to look at some other properties? I would have to recommend you get a home inspection on this one. I suspect there could be some roof damage and you would need to redo the plumbing and possibly the wiring,” he explained.
“I don’t care. I want it.”
I knew I sounded like a petulant child, but I didn’t care. I was ready to get my hands dirty and do some manual labor. This would be a great way to stay busy in the offseason. My mind was whirring with the possibilities. The place had a lot of potential. It was a little rough around the edges, but it was perfect. I couldn’t wait to show Liza.
“Okay, well I can write up an offer and get it to the seller today,” he said.
“I’ll pay asking price. I don’t want to risk someone buying it out from under me.”
He guffawed, “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
I glared at him.
“Sorry. I’ll tell the seller you’re very motivated and ready to move. Are you pre-approved for a loan?”
I looked at him. “What was the asking price?”
He told me, and I smiled. “I can write a check.”
His eyes bulged, “You want to do a cash purchase?”
I shrugged. “I guess. I have the money. I don’t need to get a bank loan.”
“Okay, listen, you’ve got to let me negotiate a lower price. With an all-cash offer, we can get this place a little cheaper.”
“Doesn’t that cut into your commission?” I asked.
He grinned. “Yes, but I love the thrill of making a good deal.”
“Fine, but don’t low-ball the guy and have him turn me down flat. I want this place like yesterday.”
“I can negotiate a quick close, assuming you don’t want that home inspection I strongly advise you to get,” he said.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t want it. If I can have the keys on Monday, I’ll throw in a bonus for you.”
He smiled and shook his head. “While that would be nice, I can’t accept it. I will see what I can do to lock this thing up and have you signing papers on Monday. I’ll get back to you as soon as I hear. You’ll need to sign some papers and then we can move forward.”
We walked through the jungle that would be my front yard, chatting about what could be done to make it more attractive and functional.
“Thanks for showing me the place. I promise I won’t take up any more of your time if you can get this deal closed for me.”
“Thank you. I think you may be the easiest client I’ve ever had,” he said, laughing.
We got in our cars, and he promised to get back to me tomorrow with the seller’s answer. I couldn’t see why the seller wouldn’t accept the offer. I was ready to pay double. I had to have it.
On the drive back to the hotel, my mind whirred, elated at the prospect of being a real homeowner. I could have Ainsley come over and stay the night. We could play on the beach, play in the yard and maybe even get her a dog. I was so damn giddy I had to fight to keep myself from clapping my hands like a child. I had seen Ainsley do it so many times in even the short time I had known her. The curtain was finally lifting. I could see my future, and I liked what I saw.
By the time I made it back to my room, I was exhausted. I was feeling better, but I was definitely not up to my normal status. I crawled back in bed and fell asleep. When I woke up, my phone was flashing, letting me know I had missed a call.
I yawned and listened to the voicemail. Holy shit. I was going to be a homeowner.
Chapter 31
Liza
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for the game?” I asked, slightly surprised that Milo was calling me.
“I am, but I wanted to make sure you were coming for the game today?”
“Yes, of course, I am! Why, what’s up?”
“I have some news, but I want to tell you in person,” he said.
I could hear the excitement in his voice but had no idea what it could be. I promised to find him after the game. It wasn’t like there was a chance they were going to be in the playoffs or anything like that. That ship had sailed. Next season looked promising, but I couldn’t imagine what had him in such a tizzy all the sudden. It was cute and endearing, but now I was going to be on pins and needles.
The game was far more fun than I had expected. Usually, December games were tense and stressful. There was so much weighing on a win, it took away a lot of the fun of watching. My dad was usually a terrible grump from December through January, but not this year. I was secretly excited they had failed so miserably early on with Milo coming in midway through to give them hope for the following season.
“Mommy, look, there goes Daddy,” Ainsley was yelling and pointing to the field where Milo was running out.
I almost vomited. People looked at us. It was the same group as always. We were all season ticket holders and kind of knew each other. They were looking at me strangely. I laughed and waved my hand.
“Yep, I see my Daddy!” I said, playing it off the best I could.
Ainsley didn’t seem to notice what I said and clapped her little hands. It was the fourth quarter, and the game was tied up. Even though the win wouldn’t do much for the team this year, it was still exciting. I held my breath as Milo held the ball. He was going to go for a pass. I could see it in the way he was moving.
My stomach turned over and over as I watched. I was on my feet alongside the rest of the fans, screaming my head off, begging him to throw a good pass. I held my breath as his arm went up and he released the ball.
The entire row went silent as we all waited to see if the intended receiver would catch what could only be referred to as a proverbial ‘Hail Mary’ pass. When number twenty-one, who I now knew to be Luke Dawson, caught the ball and started running, I screamed. The pass was good! It was a hell of a pass, and when Dawson scored the touchdown, the entire stadium erupted into cheers.
“Daddy won! Daddy won!” Ainsley was jumping up and down screaming.
“Yes, he did!” I said, not worried about anyone noticing her calling him Daddy.
We stayed in our seats, waiting for the crowds to clear out before we made our way down to the field. It was a bit of chaos with the team hanging around longer than usual
to talk with reporters. There seemed to be more reporters on the field than usual. It was madness. I had a death grip on Ainsley’s hand, afraid to lose her in the crowd of people.
“Hold tight, Ainsley,” I told the little girl who kept tugging on my hand, wanting to break free. “Wait for Mommy.”
“I want to see Daddy,” she complained.
“Ainsley, wait!”
In the blink of an eye, she was gone. One second, I had a grip on her little hand and the next I felt nothing.
“Ainsley!” I shouted, looking directly into the throng of people. “Ainsley! Come here, now!”
I began to push through people, not caring if they thought I was rude. I couldn’t see her. I began to panic. The crowd was too big, and Ainsley was too small. Her red hair was drowned out by the shoulders and bodies of the adults milling about as if there wasn’t a little girl in their midst.
Since I knew she was looking for her Daddy, I headed in Milo’s direction myself. I couldn’t see him from my vantage point, but I knew the general direction and hoped that she did too. Pushing my way through, fighting back the panic all the while, I was screaming her name over and over. Finally managing to break through the crowd, I saw a familiar shock of red hair.
“Ainsley!” I shouted, now more pissed than scared.
I pushed past the last shoulder blocking my view of Milo just in time to see Ainsley launch herself at him, yelling, “Daddy!” as loud as could be.
The reporters who had cameras and microphones in his face all froze as Milo caught Ainsley and pulled her up to his hip. Everything felt as if it went into slow motion from that point forward. Ainsley was smiling as bright as could be, Milo looked at me and saw what must have been a look of sheer horror on my face. We had that split second of calm before all hell broke loose.
Camera flashes were going off in such rapid succession I could hardly see, and people were yelling questions at Milo and Ainsley. I saw the exact moment Ainsley’s excitement to see her daddy turned to fear. My inner mama bear came roaring to the surface, and I pushed my way through the new throng of people, all vying to get the story.
I had seen Milo put up one of his big hands to protect Ainsley’s head and face, but the press was relentless. They were sticking their phones so close to Ainsley’s little body I thought for sure they would touch her.
“Get back!” I yelled. “Move!”
That familiar panic bubbled to the surface again as I realized I couldn’t reach my baby. I wanted to scream and run the nosey reporters over, but I didn’t have size on my side. Then, much like Moses parting the Red Sea, the crowd dispersed, and I could hear my dad shouting.
“Go! You will have more respect for my people on my field! Get out of here! Interviews are over!” he was shouting.
The press knew being allowed on the field was a courtesy. That courtesy would be revoked if Coach Summers was pushed too far, and he already had a reputation for being cantankerous. I ran to Milo, my eyes focused on Ainsley. She looked a little scared, but none the worse for wear.
“Ainsley! What were you thinking!” I scolded her, reaching out to take her from Milo.
“What happened?” Milo asked, clearly a little shaken.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I had her hand and then she just took off running. The crowd was so thick I couldn’t see her.”
“How did she get away from you?” my dad asked, anger vibrating his voice.
“I don’t know, Dad. She just did,” I said, defensively. “It wasn’t intentional.”
“Do you know how dangerous it is down here?” he shot back.
“Yes, actually I do. It was an accident. It’s not like I told her to run into the crowd.”
“It’s fine, I have her, she’s okay,” Milo said, rubbing the back of her head. He leaned away and looked at Ainsley who didn’t seem to realize what she had done to the adults in her life. “You can’t do that again, okay? You scared your Mom. You have to stay with one of us.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
I could see a dark object and then a flash out of the corner of my eye. I reached for Ainsley, kissed her and squeezed her tight. That same dark object in my peripheral vision flashed. I turned to look, but it was gone. It was probably someone from the press taking pictures of one of the other players. No one seemed to be looking at us, at least not directly.
“This isn’t going to be good,” Milo said in a low voice.
“No, it isn’t. Shit is gonna hit the damn fan now,” Dad growled.
“Dad!” I said, looking at Ainsley. He was usually very good about watching his language around her. The fact he didn’t gave me an idea about just how pissed he was.
“I’ll call Stan and see if we can get ahead of this,” Milo muttered.
“I’m going to have to call the owners, the GM and the PR team,” Dad grumbled.
“What are you two so upset about? How about the fact Ainsley nearly got trampled by a massive crowd of overzealous reporters and fans?” I said, hysteria in my voice. “You’re seriously worried about her getting her picture taken? Who cares what Stan or your press people think? I don’t care.”
Milo looked at me as if I was not quite getting it.
“Liza, she called me Daddy.”
I shrugged, “So, what? It was bound to come out eventually. Granted, I really wish it wouldn’t have been on live television with a hundred cameras on her, but it’ll fade. You guys are making a huge deal out of one mistake. I’m not the first parent to have lost my kid in a crowd. Obviously, you two are perfect parents, so you’ll have to forgive my mistake. Or don’t. I don’t care.”
“It isn’t that, Liza. I don’t understand why you let her go. What if she would have gotten lost?” Dad seethed.
“Don’t lecture me! It was an accident. I didn’t intentionally let go of her. She pulled away! She isn’t always the most well-behaved child!”
Milo looked at me, and I could see the disappointment in his eyes.
“Liza,” he started.
I rolled my eyes. “We’re leaving. That is if you trust me to get her to the car without throwing her to the wolves,” I spat out, spinning around and barreling my way through the rest of the lingering crowd.
Making my way out of the stadium, I ignored the few questions fired at me about Milo and our relationship. It was none of their damn business, but I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of getting me to tell them that.
I held Ainsley close to my body, her face buried into my neck. She fought and squirmed, but I warned her she was already in big trouble. That resulted in a few minutes of compliance. Once we made it to the team parking lot, I practically dragged her to the car. I was furious with her and my dad. Milo had just landed himself at the top of my shit list as well.
How dare those self-righteous jerks criticize me for how I took care of my daughter. Neither of them could have done any better. Neither of them ever had to try. I could feel the tears streaming down my face as I buckled Ainsley into her car seat.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?” she asked.
“You scared me. You can’t run off like that. It’s very dangerous. You could have been hurt, or someone could have snatched you away. Never, ever do that again, do you hear me?”
She nodded her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Good. Now, let’s go to McDonalds. I’m not in the mood to cook dinner.”
I wasn’t hungry, but I had to feed my child. It wasn’t a normal thing for us, so to her, it was a special treat. I realized I was rewarding her bad behavior, but I would chalk it up to another one of my ever-mounting parenting failures. I didn’t have enough energy to care at the moment. The two men in my life had let me down at a time when I needed their support. I was hurt by their harsh reaction to my mistake. As if I needed them to point out the many horrible ways that whole situation could have ended.
Checking my ringing phone, I declined the call from Milo. I was not interested in talking to him at the moment. By the time I got home, there wer
e several more calls from both Milo and my dad. They could both kiss my ass. I was mad and in a major pout, and definitely not in the mood for more of their lectures.
Chapter 32
Milo
The happy bubble I had been riding all weekend exploded the second Ainsley launched herself at me after the game. I wasn’t angry with Liza, but I also knew she didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. All our lives were going to change.
“Hi,” I greeted Coach Summers, who was already at Stan’s office.
We were trying to get ahead of the story, but it was too late. Twitter and every sports website had blown up minutes after the incident yesterday. The power of social media was ridiculous. Ainsley’s face and the moment she yelled “Daddy” had been splashed all over every news outlet, with various headlines splashed over the picture.
My little girl had made the headline on the front of most sports pages, and for all the wrong reasons.
“Go on in, Milo,” Stan’s secretary said, giving me a strange smile.
It had been happening all morning, everywhere I went. Women were looking at me as if they were fitting me for a new suit.
“It’s the Daddy thing,” Coach whispered, as we walked to Stan’s office.
“What?”
“You’re more appealing to them. Women love good Daddies,” he explained.
“Oh. Oh. God no!” I said, finally getting what he was saying. “No way. Never going to happen,” I said, making sure Coach knew I wasn’t out to repopulate the world with every attractive woman that threw herself at me.
Things suddenly felt very awkward.
“Have a seat,” Stan said, gesturing to the chairs across from his desk.
Coach and I sat. “What are we dealing with?” I asked, not interested in small talk.
“So far, the story is that she is your love child. No one is connecting Coach Summers’ daughter to her just yet, but I expect that will happen sometime today. There is always some armchair investigative reporter out there that will put together a meme showing one of the millions of pictures of the coach holding the little girl beside you holding the same little girl,” he explained. “Most reporters aren’t familiar with the coach’s personal life. Liza has managed to stay out of the press for the most part.”