“I know you are, and I don’t think Dana Sue begrudges you this time with them. It’s just hard for her to see Annie so upset.”
Maddie sighed. “You should probably know that Annie didn’t show up for work today.”
“So I heard,” Helen admitted.
“Elliott said she’d just found out about Ty,” Maddie continued, her tone sympathetic. “She read it in the paper, of all things. I probably should have told her myself, but I thought Dana Sue would. This is so damn complicated. I have no idea what my son was thinking.”
“I doubt thinking was involved in this mess,” Helen said dryly. “If you want my advice, you need to enjoy having Ty around and stay out of his relationship with Annie. They’re adults now. And in case you’re wondering, I said pretty much the same thing to Dana Sue.”
“It’s just that I was so sure…” Maddie’s voice trailed off.
“They were so sweet together, I think we all thought they’d be together forever,” Helen admitted. “But it was never up to us.”
“I know. See you tonight.”
Helen hung up, relieved that her desire to celebrate her courtroom victory might give Maddie and Dana Sue the chance they needed to meet on neutral turf. For the first time in several years—since Sarah Beth’s birth, in fact—she felt like her old self again…in control and on top.
Helen’s feeling of euphoria lasted for just under two hours. She’d barely walked in the door and set down the tequila and other supplies she’d bought for tonight’s gathering, when a hospital in Florida called to let her know that her mother had been admitted with a broken hip. Clutching the phone, Helen sat down hard.
“She broke her hip,” she repeated, her tone dull. How many times had she heard of seniors whose health went on a downward spiral after an accident like this? Not that her mom was that old. Flo Decater was barely into her seventies and still active, so maybe this wasn’t so bad.
“How serious is it?” she asked with surprising hesitation for a woman who prided herself on being quick, knowledgeable and decisive in any emergency.
“The surgery went well,” the nurse said, her tone chipper. “But she is asking for you, and you should know she won’t be able to be on her own for a while once she’s released from the hospital. That means a rehab facility or nursing home or at-home care. You can discuss that when you see her.”
“But I…” Helen began, then stopped herself before she said that she didn’t have time to fly to Florida. She and her mother might not be close, but she owed her.
After her husband’s death when Helen was only ten, Flo had worked two jobs to see that Helen had everything she needed growing up. Flo had scrimped and saved to make college possible, hounded Helen to keep her grades up so she could win scholarships.
Now it was up to Helen to see that her mother was well cared for. In her mind, a condo by the water in Florida and monthly checks were adequate compensation, but clearly her mother now needed more. Helen couldn’t abandon her to figure all this out for herself.
“Tell her I’ll be there tomorrow,” she said eventually. After all, she was an expert at juggling. Her decisiveness kicked in. How long could it possibly take to make arrangements for her mother’s care? A day or two at most. The nanny could cover Sarah Beth’s needs, and Erik would be here to take up the slack. Helen’s secretary could reschedule her appointments. Even as the thoughts crossed her mind, Helen began making lists of what needed to be done. She had an entire page of notes, including the nurse’s recommendations of local rehab facilities, before she’d hung up the phone.
By the time the first of the Sweet Magnolias walked in the door, Helen had all of the arrangements made for a quick overnight trip to South Florida. Handling all the details kept her from actually thinking about what she’d find when she got there.
Thank heaven for margarita night, she thought, taking her first deep swallow of a very large, very tart drink. She was going to need alcohol and good friends to face what lay ahead, because she and her mother could fight over nothing faster than two cars going sixty could collide head-on.
Still upset by his conversation with his mother about Annie, Ty found himself heading for Cal’s office at the high school on Friday afternoon. Even before Cal had become his stepfather, he’d been Ty’s coach and mentor. Ty could talk to him about things he’d never say to his mom or even to his father. As a former big league player himself, Cal understood that world in ways that no one else around here could.
Ty was slouched down in a chair, idly rubbing his aching shoulder, when Cal eventually came in.
“Well, this is a surprise! What brings you by?” Cal asked, studying him intently. “You having trouble figuring out what to do with all this time on your hands?”
“Something like that,” Ty said.
“You could hang around here this afternoon, help me coach the pitchers.”
Ty shook his head. “I’d need to show ’em what I’m talking about, and right now I throw balls like a girl.”
Cal gave him a commiserating look. “Rehab’s just started, Ty. It’ll get better.”
“It never did for you,” Ty said, referring to the fact that Cal’s own major league career had been ended by an injury.
“And my life turned out just fine,” Cal pointed out. “I love teaching. I love your mom and our family. I don’t have a single regret.”
“Oh, come on, Cal,” Ty scoffed. “You can’t tell me you weren’t depressed when you realized you were never going to play ball again.”
“True enough,” his stepfather admitted. “I was in a self-pitying funk, as a matter of fact, but then a very wise man came to visit me and told me that there were still plenty of worthwhile things I could do. He steered me toward teaching and coaching. In fact, he’s the one who brought me to Serenity.” He grinned. “Fortunately for you, you have me to tell you the same thing.”
“Gee, how reassuring,” Ty grumbled sourly.
Cal gave him a long, hard look. “You really are having a pity party for yourself today, aren’t you? Look, here’s the truth, Ty. There’s no reason to think our situations are alike. I had complications. You’re healing well. It’s just going to take time and determination. You lose the rest of this season, so what? You’ll be back stronger than ever next year.”
“Is that your medical opinion?” Ty inquired.
Cal came around his desk and perched on the corner. “Okay, what’s really got you down today? It’s got nothing to do with pitching, because we both know your prognosis looks good. What put you in this mood?” Cal gave him a knowing look when Ty remained silent. “Why did I even ask? This is about Annie. You came home thinking everything would fall into place just the way it was in the old days, and now you’re figuring out that if you want her back, you’re going to have to work for it.”
“I never expected it to be easy,” Ty insisted. “I know she hates my guts.”
“If she does, that’s probably a good thing,” Cal said.
“In what universe?”
“Hate’s the opposite of love, or so they say. If she had no feelings for you at all, that’s when you’d really need to worry. Have you called her?”
Ty shook his head.
“Stopped by the spa while she’s there?”
“No.”
“Dropped in over at Ronnie and Dana Sue’s?”
Ty regarded him incredulously. “You have to be kidding me! Dana Sue’d probably slap me silly with a cast-iron skillet. You weren’t here for the scene she made when she found out Ronnie had cheated on her. That is one scary woman.”
Cal chuckled. “She is feisty, no question about that. So, what, then? You’re waiting for Annie to make the first move? Good luck with that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Ty said glumly.
“Then what is your plan?”
“I don’t actually have a plan.” He thought about it, then murmured, “Flowers? I could send over a ton of daisies. Annie always loved daisies.”
“It wo
uld break the ice, at least. But I don’t think you can count on flowers doing the hard work for you. When it comes to courting a woman, you have to put yourself out there, take a few risks. Flowers are too easy.”
“In other words, she’s going to want to see me bleed.”
Cal bit back a smile. “In a manner of speaking. I think you owe her a little public groveling, don’t you?”
“Just for starters,” Ty conceded. Truthfully, he owed Annie that and a whole lot more. He stood up, feeling marginally better. “Thanks.”
“You coming by the field tonight? Ronnie and I could use some help coaching Little League. We have too many kids and too few coaches.”
“And give Ronnie a chance to beat me to a pulp? No, thanks.”
Cal chuckled. “You could always hold your little sister or your baby brother. Ronnie would never throw a punch at a man holding a kid.”
“I am not hiding behind a toddler who’s still in diapers,” Ty said, referring to Cole. “Or Trevor or Jessica Lynn, either, for that matter. That would be pathetic.”
“So is hiding out from Annie,” Cal said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Deal with her, Ty. At least you’ll know where you stand.”
Unfortunately, he already knew where he stood with Annie. And Cal was right about one things: flowers—even entire vanloads of them—weren’t going to fix things.
Annie shoved the plate of food aside, untouched. But a pointed glance from her mother had her pulling it back.
“I’m just not hungry right this second,” she grumbled, even as she ate several bites of Sullivan’s pot roast special only to wipe the look of concern from her mother’s face.
“You’re upset about Ty,” Dana Sue said. “I get that. And I’m really sorry I kept quiet about him being back here. I was just trying to find the right time to tell you.”
“I understand,” Annie said. Once she’d cooled down, she’d realized how impossible the whole situation was, especially for her mom and Maddie.
Her mother regarded her worriedly. “I just don’t want you to…”
“Stop eating,” Annie said, completing the unspoken thought. “Mom, it’s okay. Really. I ate breakfast this morning—ask Erik. I’d almost finished before I saw the article in the paper about Ty being back. I even had a bowl of soup at Wharton’s for lunch. You can ask Grace, if you want to.”
“I’m not going to spy on you,” Dana Sue said with a self-righteous display of indignation.
Annie raised a brow. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“That was a long time ago,” her mother replied. “When you first got out of the hospital, yes, your dad and I kept a close eye on your eating habits. We had to.” Unspoken was the fact that Annie had lied so often, they hadn’t dared to trust anything she told them.
“You had your spies when I was away at college, too,” Annie reminded her without rancor. She’d understood why they’d done that, too, and since she’d had no intention of reverting to her old ways, she’d never voiced any objections to the frequent calls to the dorm counselors. Lately, though, she’d thought they were beyond all that. She’d worked hard, not only to stay healthy but also to regain her parents’ trust. It hurt to see that distrust back in her mother’s eyes, but on some level she understood it.
“I’m a mom. Sue me,” Dana Sue said blithely, not so much as blinking at the charge that she’d spied. “Let’s drop this for now. I have something important I need to ask you, and I want you to be totally honest. If this bothers you, you have to say so.”
Annie regarded her curiously, surprised by her somber tone. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m supposed to go to Helen’s tonight.”
“A Sweet Magnolias night,” Annie guessed. “What does that have to do with me?”
“Will it bother you if I hang out with Maddie?”
There was a tiny little twinge, but Annie stomped on it. Her mother was not being disloyal. “Mom, don’t be absurd,” she said, meaning it. “You guys have been friends forever. Just because Ty and I aren’t speaking doesn’t mean you and Maddie shouldn’t.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course I am. Go.”
“You and I could do something instead, especially if you want to talk about all this. Or we could drive over to Charleston and see a movie. I’ve already cleared it with Erik to leave him in charge here at the restaurant, so I can take off now.”
“The last thing I want to talk about is Ty. That subject is dead. Over. Kaput.”
“Really?” her mom asked skeptically.
“Yes, really.”
“Then how about the movie?”
“So I can sit there for two hours and feel guilty for keeping you from spending the evening with your friends? No way.”
“Then what will you do tonight?”
Annie shrugged. She didn’t want to go home and sit in an empty house. Who knew what time her mother would get home, and her dad would probably stay late at the hardware store. “Maybe I’ll see if Dad wants to go to a movie or something. We haven’t hung out in a while.”
“Your dad’s planning to go to Little League batting practice, then go for pizza with Cal and the kids.” Dana Sue’s expression brightened. “You could go with him. He’ll have to help Katie keep an eye on Jessica Lynn and Cole while Cal’s coaching. I’m sure he’d love an extra pair of hands.”
Rather than dismissing the idea outright and giving her mother more to worry about, Annie said, “I’ll think about it. Maybe.”
Dana Sue clearly wasn’t fooled by the evasive answer. “Are you concerned you’ll run into Ty there?”
“Mom!”
“I’m just saying you don’t need to be. The past couple of nights he’s gone to the spa to work with Elliott. The way I hear it, he’s been there for hours. I’m sure that’s where he’ll be tonight, too.”
Rather than reassuring her as her mom had clearly intended, Dana Sue’s words only solidified Annie’s resolve to avoid the ball field at all costs. “Which means his son will probably be at the ball field with Cal,” Annie said. “No, thanks.”
Dana Sue looked crestfallen. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that. I still haven’t gotten used to the idea that Ty even has a son.”
“Yeah, well, it’s all I think about.” Despite her resolve not to let anyone see how much she still cared, Annie felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She stood up and announced, “I’m going for a walk.”
Seeing the immediate worry in Dana Sue’s eyes, she bent down and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Don’t start fretting, Mom. I’ll be fine. Have fun and watch those margaritas. Helen’s are lethal.”
Dana Sue laughed. “Don’t I know it.”
Annie left before her mom decided to suggest she tag along, as she had the last time the Sweet Magnolias had gotten together. She knew she’d be welcome, but it would be way too awkward being there with Maddie with the one subject on everyone’s mind suddenly taboo because of her presence.
It really was too bad, though, because a lethal margarita and the oblivion that was bound to follow sounded really good about now.
3
The last place in all of Serenity—in all of the universe, for that matter—that Annie wanted to be was the local ball field by the high school. And yet, here she was, walking along the perimeter of the parking lot, far enough from the field itself not to be spotted by her dad or Cal, but close enough to maybe catch a glimpse of Ty’s little boy.
Though she’d seen plenty of images in the tabloids, Annie had never seen Trevor in person. She hadn’t wanted to, because then he’d be real, a flesh-and-blood preschooler, whose mere existence had torn her life apart. Tonight, though, after leaving Sullivan’s, she hadn’t been able to shake off the sudden yearning to see the little boy who might have been hers. Yes, she might have been the mother of a three-year-old, if things had turned out the way she’d always thought they would.
At first, as she skirted the field, Annie thought the
trip was probably wasted. The area was crowded with kids of all ages. The sidelines and bleachers were jammed with families. She could smell hot dogs and popcorn, even from where she was standing on the opposite side of the street. The noise of all that cheering was deafening, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out Cal’s shout to his pitcher or her dad’s startled cry when a dark-haired boy darted away from him and headed straight for the street, apparently chasing one of the ducks from a nearby park. The loudly quacking duck was trying to get away from all the frenzy and back to his more peaceful habitat.
Seeing the child toddling straight toward danger, Annie’s protective instincts kicked in without a single thought, she made a mad dash into the street and gathered the boy up before he could get a half foot away from the curb.
“Duck!” he cried mournfully, pointing to his rapidly fleeing target.
“The duck’s going to find his family,” Annie assured him. “Ducks need their families just like we do.”
When she finally looked into the boy’s startled gaze, she saw Ty’s eyes. No question about it. Stunned, she set the child on his feet and hunkered down in front of him, suddenly shaking over how quickly the incident might have turned into a tragedy.
Before she could utter a word, her father was beside them, kneeling down. “You okay?” he murmured, the comment meant for her, since it was obvious that the boy was just fine beyond being startled to have been plucked up out of the street by a stranger.
Tears stung Annie’s eyes. “It’s him, isn’t it?” she asked her dad, her voice barely more than a choked whisper. “This is Trevor.”
The boy’s eyes brightened. “Me Trevor,” he confirmed. “Who are you?”
Completely captivated now and unable to look away, she said, “I’m Annie.”
“Annie’s my daughter,” Ronnie told him.
“And I know your daddy,” Annie said before she could stop herself.
“Daddy plays ball,” Trevor said with obvious pride. “But not now. He hurt.”
“That’s what I hear,” Annie said. Suddenly unable to bear it another minute, she stood up. “I have to go. Bye, Trevor. See you, Dad.”
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