I still feel like it was time to pack up her things. Granny even gave me a small smile and squeezed my hand when I let her know. I guess I wasn’t expecting to be hit yet another way this makes it all final. I mean, I know she’s gone and isn’t coming back, but taking away what presence she did have has hit me hard today.
I’m at the plate, wishing I were at home with my daughter instead. Deborah didn’t always watch me play, but she loved to watch me bat more than anything. I never understood why, but it was her favorite. Before games, she’d always wish me luck on getting a home run because she loved to watch me run the bases too.
The pitcher’s face is void of expressions. He turns the ball over in his hand as I get into position, enjoying the weight of the bat in my hands. I study him while I wait. After he pitches, I swing the bat. As the ball soars into the sky and I take off running, it feels like a blessing of sorts when it turns out to be a home run. It’s as if Deborah is patting me on the back and telling me I’m doing well here without her. I’m doing the best I can and just need to keep moving forward.
After that, I’m able to focus on the game and I feel better about being able to handle the cards I’ve been dealt.
***
I TAP MY pen on my desk and try to concentrate on the paperwork in front of me. I’m thinking about the messages from Trent last night. Why did he text me? Did he want to tell me he had removed his wife’s things? I can’t figure my life out right now. I assumed once I told Trent about Dominic he would never come around. And now…what?
Are we friends?
Does he want more?
Is he doing this to torture me?
Is this some mean plan of his to hurt me?
I can’t blame him. I’m the sister of the man who killed his wife. Having some plan might be something he is working on. However, I don’t see Trent doing something like that. Yes, he has every right to be mad at me, but I don’t know what the hell is going on now.
I need to find out the answers. I quickly bring up the Memphis Angels website and see they are playing a home game tonight. I don’t know what to do for sure. Do I go to the game or do I wait for him outside? I don’t know where he lives so I can’t go there.
I need to check out the stalking laws in Tennessee, because I’m sure I’ve broken them all. I grab my keys, purse, and phone and race out the office door.
“I can’t let you through this gate unless you have a pass. Do you have one?” The security guard stares me down.
“No, I don’t have a pass,” I tell him.
“Then you can’t come through. I’m sorry.” He motions me to leave the area.
“Thanks.” I try not to snap at him, but I want to see Trent. In about three seconds, I’m about to lose my nerve, and the entire drive over here, where I gave myself a lengthy pep talk, will have been worthless.
“Shit,” I mumble and pull out my phone.
Me: Can we talk? Tonight? I’m outside the West gate.
Trent: Sure. Give me a few minutes.
I didn’t think he would respond so quickly.
Me: I’m not parked. Can you meet me at the Downtown Coffee House? Or do you need to go home right away?
Trent: I can meet you there.
I jump in my car and head over. I stand in line, and I can feel my palms sweating thinking that Trent will be here soon. When the cashier asks me what I want to drink, I can barely remember my own name let alone what I drink, but finally I get the order out.
It seems like forever, but Trent finally walks through the door.
“Sorry to take you away from Kaelyn. I promise I will only be a few minutes.” I push his drink over to him.
“It’s okay. What’s going on? Has Macy found something new on Junior Mints?”
I giggle out of nervousness and not because it’s funny. “Of course you’d think that, but no, she hasn’t said anything to me. I want to talk you about us. Or the lack of us? Or the us you think we might or might not be? Or...well...you know.” My ongoing nervous rambling begins.
“What about us, Scarlett?” He furrows his brow.
“Okay, I’m just going to say this and then you can either leave or not.” I take a deep breath. “When you texted me the other day about you cleaning out the house, I was confused. I don’t know where we stand with each other. Are we friends? Are we just acquaintances that talk every once in awhile? Am I someone who just gives you advice when you need it? Or are you plotting something evil? I’m so confused, and I don’t like this feeling. I just want to know what you’re feeling because I know I’m a wreck, and I don’t know what to think anymore.” I finally shut my mouth and attempt to regain my normal breathing.
“I didn’t mean to confuse you. I didn’t intend to tell you I cleaned out the house. I texted you to tell you about Kaelyn ruining my plan to get her to spend time with a girl instead of a guy. I’m not plotting anything. I don’t know how to answer any of the other questions because I’m not so sure myself.”
“We’re both adults, and we’re connected by a twisted bitch called fate, and it sucks because I would never want anything to happen to your family. I know you know this about me. I’m not going to lie, because it’s not right for you or me, but I do like you. If you want to be friends, then it’s my honor to be your friend. If you want, I don’t know, something else or more, then we can discuss it later, or whatever.” I try not to sound like a desperate fool who’s throwing herself at his feet and begging him to date me.
“I like the way things are right now. That’s pretty much the only thing I’m certain of.”
“Then let’s be friends,” I blurt out with a bit too much excitement. “I like talking to you, Trent. I really do. I know you’re taking small steps to gain control of your life and not letting the grief overtake you. You are raising a beautiful daughter and she needs to be your focus. I understand more than anyone. But I feel better knowing this and I’m sorry I acted like a crazy lunatic, because I was one.”
“You weren’t acting crazy. I can’t blame you for not knowing what to expect from me.” He looks down at his untouched coffee. “So, we’re good? You feel better, right?”
“Yes, we’re good. Thank you, Trent. I really do want to be friends. I’m glad I got this all off my chest too.”
“Maybe just call next time?” He teases me and smiles.
“I promise no more showing up at the job site begging security to let me in.” I hold up my right hand with a grin. “Promise.”
Trent chuckles. “You tried begging security to let you in? I’m sure they didn’t even crack a smile.”
“Oh no, he wasn’t going to let me in without a pass to save my life. Trust me.”
“Yeah, they’re extremely good at their job. I should head home and relieve my grandmother.”
“Thanks again.”
I watch Trent leave the coffee house, and my heart swells. I feel so much better knowing where he and I stand. I can deal with everything else later.
***
“WE NEED TO talk.”
Granny turns from where she’s standing at the stove, cooking breakfast. I’m about to leave for a few road games, and the plan is for them to head to the library today. My stomach feels uneasy about how this conversation might go, but I’ve been thinking about it and I’m certain it should happen.
“About what?” Granny turns her attention back to the food.
I didn’t exactly want to have this conversation with her back, but my timing was off obviously. “I’ve appreciated you helping me as much as you have, Granny, and I never intended for it to be long-term, but I didn’t exactly think about it being short-term either.” At this, she turns to eye me, scrutinizing me. Granny can be an intimidating woman. “I think it’s time I start looking for a live-in nanny. I’d appreciate your help in finding someone who’d be good for her. With my schedule, she definitely needs someone and I’m sure you’re ready to return to being just her Granny.”
She removes a pot of grits from the stove, turn
ing off the burner before facing me. “I wish I could fight you on this because I don’t mind one bit helping you out and I love my granddaughter to death, but you need a nanny,” she agrees. “I’m getting old and my goodness, that child is nothing but energy, especially now she’s out of school.”
“I know.” I offer her a small smile. “I want to get started looking. I don’t know how long it’ll take to find someone.” Clearing my throat, I add, “I’m thinking about seeing if Mom and Dad or Deborah’s parents want her to visit for a week or two at some point this summer, too.”
“Have you spoken to them lately?”
I shake my head. What would I say to them?
“What about your parents?”
I shake my head again.
“What’s going on with the Davis girl? You haven’t mentioned her lately.”
“It’s Knowles,” I correct, not wanting to think about Scarlett as a Davis, even if she is related to the man. “Nothing new. We’re friends. There’s a reporter, if you can call him that, who thinks I was having an affair with her before Deborah died. I don’t think he’s anything to worry about though.” I don’t want to talk about that, so I backtrack. “So, you’ll help me look for a nanny?”
Granny chuckles and nods, walking over to me. “Of course, I will. I already have someone in mind, too.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I was discussing my little ball of energy of a granddaughter with some of my BINGO girls and one of them mentioned that her granddaughter is a college student in need of a job. She might be a good fit. She’s young, could keep up with Kaelyn, and would most likely have the flexible kind of schedule you’d need. Plus, she has nieces and nephews around Kaelyn’s age.”
I eye my Granny. “Have you been scouting out a nanny all this time?”
She grins, pats my cheek, and then nods. “I already have the girl’s number and know she’d be interested.”
I laugh and hug her. “I’d be lost without you, Granny.”
“Yes, you would, boy. Yes, you would. Go get your daughter for breakfast.”
Leaving her, I walk down to Kaelyn’s room. Hearing soft cries causes me to run the rest of the way. Kaelyn is standing at the foot of her bed, tears plopping onto the floor as she holds her stomach, bent over, vomit on the floor in front of her.
“I don’t feel good, Daddy,” she whines when she lifts her head.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” I say gently, picking her up and carrying her to the bathroom as she rest her head on my shoulder.
“Are you mad?” she whispers.
“Mad? Why would I be mad?”
“I threw up on the floor.”
I rub her back. “No, I’m not mad. You didn’t mean to.” I sit her on the counter, and feel her forehead with the back of my hand. She’s burning up. “What’s bothering my girl?”
“My tummy hurts, Daddy.” Her eyes well with tears, breaking my heart. Her hair is all over the place from where she was sleeping, and she looks miserable.
I grab a cloth, wet it, and wipe her mouth. I get a little cup, fill it with water, and hand it to her so she can swish. Next, I find the thermometer.
“What’s going on?”
I glance over at Granny. “She threw up, and I’m pretty sure she’s got a fever. You should go home. I can’t risk you getting sick as well, Granny.” She is in her seventies, and I’m not risking her catching whatever Kaelyn may have and it be even worse on her.
“You’re supposed to leave in an hour for your flight.”
“My daughter is sick. I’m not leaving her,” I snap and immediately follow with, “Sorry.” The thermometer beeps and I squeeze my eyes closed when I see it’s a little over hundred. “Go on home and I’ll handle everything here,” I tell Granny.
She wants to protest, I can see it in her barely parted lips, but she closes them and nods when I tell her what her fever is.
“Let’s get my girl back in bed.” The fact that Kaelyn doesn’t protest is a testament to how bad she feels. I get her in bed when Granny brings me some medicine for her to take before she leaves. I give it to her and clean up the vomit.
“Will you lay with me, Daddy?” Kaelyn asks, her eyes barely open.
“Yeah, sweet pea. I need to wash my hands and call work first, okay?”
She nods and I quickly do just that. At first, Coach doesn’t sound pleased, but I explain that it’s just me, she’s sick, and I’ll be damned if I’m leaving town while she is. After I hang up, I find the small bowl Deborah kept in the hall closet just for throwing up. I place it on the coffee table in the living room and return to Kaelyn.
I pick her up, grab her pillow, carry her to the living room, and we sit on the couch. She leans against me, and I turn on the cartoons for her.
“If you feel like you’re going to throw up again, tell me.”
“Okay,” she mumbles as I pull the blanket off the back of the couch and cover her up. I rub her back and then her soothe her hair away from her face when she rests her head on her pillow in my lap.
Kaelyn throws up a few more times throughout the day. Granny ends up returning briefly to drop off Ginger Ale and soup. Kaelyn refuses to eat, no matter how much I try to coax her. She’ll sip the drink though. My phone vibrates on and off with texts from some of my teammates, the first coming from Blake, all sending get well wishes to Kaelyn.
Around dinnertime, I try again to get her to eat.
“Come on, sweet pea. You’ll feel better.”
“I’m not hungry, Daddy,” she replies with a tone full of annoyance and a whine. She’d rather sleep.
“I know, but don’t you want to feel better? Just little sips, like with the drink. It won’t even feel like you’re eating.” She makes no move to sit up. “Kaelyn, come on. Sit up. I need you to eat something. Then you can sleep, promise.” How in the hell am I supposed to get my kid to eat? I’m certain she has a stomach virus, but she hasn’t eaten all day and my worries will ease if she’ll just take one spoonful of soup.
When I tug gently on her arm, thank God, she sits up. I’m sitting on the coffee table in front of her and I bring the bowl closer to her before scooping up just the broth in the chicken noodle soup. Kaelyn opens her mouth and meets the spoon. She eats all of six spoonfuls before shaking her head, refusing to eat more.
I reclaim my seat and she lies on me again. My phone vibrates, and I pick it up to see a text from Scarlett.
Scarlett: Sorry in advance if I’m overstepping. I saw you didn’t travel with the team. Hope everything is okay.
Me: Kaelyn’s sick. Probably a stomach virus, so I’m home with her.
Scarlett: Aw, poor kid. :( Hope she feels better.
“Daddy, I don’t,” is all Kaelyn is able to get out. I was already reaching for the bowl and have it in front of her just as she vomits. She starts crying when she’s done.
I rub her back. “Ssh, you’re okay. You’ll feel better soon, sweet pea. Go to sleep.”
“I want to sleep in your bed.”
I slip my phone into my pocket, grab her pillow, and we walk to my room. She lies down and then insists I don’t leave her, so I crawl in next to her. She pulls the covers all the way up to her nose and cuddles against my side. I rub her back.
When she falls asleep, I carefully get out of bed to change my clothes into pajamas and then grab my phone to text Scarlett back. It’s only seven o’clock and I’m ready for bed.
Me: Working on it. Hate seeing her miserable.
Scarlett: I bet. :(
Me: I didn’t realize you were enough of a fan to follow the news of the team.
A few minutes pass before she replies.
Scarlett: I don’t normally.
Just then, what she said the other night runs through my head. Is she following the team because she likes me? For the most part, I haven’t focused on that bit of knowledge. I just don’t know what to do with it, so I’ve been ignoring it. I like Scarlett, but I’m unsure if it includes anything more than us
being friends.
Me: I see. Did you have a good day?
Scarlett: Not fantastic, but could have been worse. Yours?
Me: Aside from Kaelyn being sick, not bad. Then again, the only thing that has happened is that I told Granny I wanted a nanny for Kaelyn. She has apparently already been looking for someone for me haha
Scarlett: Ha! Was management mad that you weren’t coming on the road trip?
Me: Not mad, but not thrilled. They understood though. What would they expect me to do anyway? I’m all she has. It’s not like I can leave her with someone else. I don’t want to risk Granny getting sick, so I’m the only option.
Scarlett: I’m sorry. That you’re the only one she has.
Shit. I didn’t mean to make her feel bad, which I’m sure I did.
Me: It’s not your fault. Sorry if I made you feel bad.
Scarlett doesn’t reply. Maybe asking to be friends is too much, considering the circumstances. Will her brother and his actions always loom over our heads?
***
I WALK OUT of courthouse when I’m finished with my day of adoptions. I only had one kid, but I had to do another social worker’s cases because they were sick. I check my watch and figure I have time for a cup of coffee.
There isn’t a long line and I’m able to quickly order and take a seat at one of the corner tables. I take out my phone and check my emails, but the app doesn’t even have time to open before someone sits down across from me.
Junior Mints...I mean, Mintzer.
Trent Page 12