One True Thing

by Lynne Jaymes

  Officer Suarez is writing something down on the hood of the car. He rips a piece of paper off a pad and hands it to me along with my license and wallet. “This is a summons for being drunk and disorderly in public.”

  I look at it. “A summons? What for? I’m not even drunk and it wasn’t in public.”

  The first cop takes a step toward me. “I’d take this with a huge smile and a fucking ‘thank you’ on your lips because it’s only by the grace of God that you’re not sitting in the back of that car on the way to the station right now to spend the rest of the night in jail. Got that? Do I make myself clear?”

  I can feel the rage boiling up in me. “Yes. Sir.” I crumple the ticket and jam it into my pocket.

  The first cop walks away, but Suarez hangs back. “Look. Do yourself a favor and don’t come back here. Next time, there won’t be anything I can do.” He glances at the front of the bar. “This isn’t California—you need to be aware of that, especially now that your name is out there.”

  I nod. “Got it.” I see Rowan and Mitch walking toward us in the parking lot. “Thanks.”

  He smiles. “No problem. Hey—remember me when you’re famous. I want two tickets to a game sometime.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four (Jenna)

  I fish around in my salad for the last of the tomatoes and push it over to the side.

  “What did that tomato ever do to you?” Stewart asks, peering at my plate.

  “I forgot to get them taken out,” I say.

  “I thought you’d outgrown your tomato issues. You like my sauce.”

  “I don’t mind tomatoes in things, but I hate them all by themselves.” I wrinkle my nose. “They’re squishy.”

  Stewart leans over and spears one on his fork and wiggles it in front of my face. “Come on. Just one bite.”

  “Stop!” I smack his hand away and the tomato flies off his fork and goes bouncing across the floor.

  Stewart holds both of his hands up in surrender. “Okay. No tomatoes for Jenna.”

  I stab the fork into the salad. “Sorry. Just not in the mood.”

  “I can see that.” He takes a bite of his burger and chews thoughtfully. “Still pining after your baseball player?”

  “I’m not pining,” I say. “I just…I just thought we had something special going on and then everything went to hell.” It’s funny because while the sex was hot, when I think about Ty it’s the moments that we were just hanging around the house that stand out. The times when we were just reading at opposite ends of the couch or sitting with a pizza watching a movie. While I miss his body desperately, it feels like I miss just being with him more.

  Stewart wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think Ty’s all that happy either.” He leans forward. “Got in a bar fight the other night at McCarthy’s. Almost got arrested.”

  “He did? Is he okay?” I hate the fact that this does make me feel a tiny bit better.

  “Got a pretty good whack on the head with a pool cue from some asshole, but yeah, I think he’s okay.” He pauses. “You know, some scouts are supposed to be at the game today. Why don’t you come with me? We can sit way up at the top of the bleachers—no one will even know we’re there. We’ll be the invisible fans cheering in silence. ”

  “I can barely look at Ty. Watching him play would be torture,” I say. I don’t miss the look on Stewart’s face. “So how are things going with Rowan?”

  “Fine. Mostly.” He picks at his fries. “It’s frustrating though. I totally get why Rowan has to be discreet. I’ve been there. But I’m not there anymore and I want to shout to the universe that I’m seeing this amazing guy and I’m not even allowed to walk too close to him in public.”

  “Kind of like the old days,” I sympathize. “Maybe Rowan is too much right now? Maybe you should go out with someone who doesn’t mind people knowing.”

  “Right,” he says. “Like the gay community at Garvin is so totally hopping. Anyway, I don’t want anyone but Rowan. He’s perfect.” Stewart looks up at me and I can see the seriousness in his eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him because I think he’s the one.”

  “Wow! That’s awesome.” I swallow hard, knowing that I thought the same thing just a few weeks ago.

  Stewart reads the look on my face and grabs my hand on the table. “Why don’t you just talk to Ty? Give him a chance to explain?”

  I shake my head. “How can he explain lying to me the entire time we were going out? If I can’t trust him about something so fundamental, how can I trust him about anything? You were there when Jake happened—no way am I going through that again.”

  “Maybe Ty didn’t think he could trust you.”

  That pisses me off a little. “How’s that?”

  “Look, I’ve been passing as straight most of my life and I get the temptation. People make snap judgments about you based on what they see—it’s hard to shake that. The first time I took the chance and came out to someone I was into it was terrifying.”

  “I remember,” I say. “That guy you met in that club in Austin. He wore eyeliner. It wasn’t much of a gamble.”

  Stewart smiles. “It was still taking a chance. All I’m saying is that maybe Ty wasn’t sure he could trust you with something so important.”

  “Why wouldn’t he trust me?” I lean over the table. “He saw me naked. I told him everything.”

  “Yeah,” Stewart says. “And then he met Gramps. Come on—even you have to admit he’s a bit much. That man could make anyone’s testicles shrink back into their body.”

  I put my forehead in my hands. It feels like Gramps’ words are still echoing. “You should have heard what Gramps said to Ty on my birthday. It was really awful. As mad as I was, all I wanted was for him to stop. No wonder Ty paid the money back so fast. I know he didn’t have it in the bank—I still wonder where he got all that cash.”

  Stewart shrugs and pops another fry into his mouth. I know guilty when I see it.

  “What? Where did he get the money?”

  “How should I know? That boy doesn’t tell me anything.”

  I don’t say a word, just cross my arms and stare him down.

  “Fine,” Stewart says, pushing the plate away. “He sold the bike.”

  I feel a sudden sense of loss. “The Triumph? Why? He loves that bike!”

  “Maybe,” Stewart says, his eyes on mine. “He loves you more.”

  I don’t say anything because I have no answer for that. Hearing Ty say it that day almost killed me and it took everything I had not to say it back. Not to jump into his arms and forgive him everything. We bus our table and walk through the Union to the quad outside. It’s a gorgeous Texas afternoon and there are people all over the grass, some studying, some just lying back and enjoying the sunshine.

  “You sure you won’t come to the game with me? I’ll buy you a churro.”

  “No,” I say. “I can’t. But I’m glad the scout is coming to see him. I hope things work out for Ty.”

  “You say that like it’s so final,” Stewart says.

  “It is.” My eyes wander over the people on the grass and settle on a couple sitting halfway up the hill under a tree. Ty and some blond girl, sitting way too close together for this to be just a casual thing. I always could spot him in a crowd. “Shit.”

  “What?” Stewart says, looking around.

  “Nothing,” I say, turning away so that he won’t see the stupid tears that have sprung up in my eyes. Even seeing Ty for a second makes me realize that I don’t care who his parents are—there’s a big empty hole in my life where he used to be. Where he should be.

  “Oh,” he says, as he spots them. “Look, I’m sure it’s innocent. They both have books open—they’re probably just studying together.”

  “Right.” I turn my back on the two of them, even though the sight is imprinted on my memory. “She’s sitting way too close to him for it to be some study session.” I swipe my palm angrily over my eyes. This
is stupid. I’ve said a million times that it’s over between us. Why should this get me so upset?

  “Exactly,” Stewart says. “She’s sitting too close to him.” He peers over my shoulder. “And Ty’s not making any moves toward her. Look, he’s hot, he’s an athlete, he’s smart and probably someday very soon he’s going to be an insanely rich pro ball player. What’s not to like?”

  “Yeah, that helps,” I say.

  Stewart puts one arm around my shoulder. “All I’m saying is that you should take a shot. It’s obvious the two of you had something special. You can’t just let that go so easily.”

  My phone rings in my pocket and I pull it out to check the display. “It’s Mom,” I say to Stewart. “I should get this.”

  “Okay.” He gives me a hug. “But my offer for the game is still open. I’ll be at the top of the bleachers this afternoon—I’ll be the one with the binoculars and the hard-on.”

  “Charming,” I say, swatting him on the arm.

  I turn and walk down the steps as I answer the call.

  Chapter Twenty-Five (Ty)

  I move a few inches away from Cassie on the grass. She smells like flowers and female and ordinarily, as in before Jenna, I’d have been all over this, but right now all I feel is that she’s too far into my personal space.

  “Do you have the notes from week seven?” she asks, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger.

  “Yeah,” I say, flipping through my notebook. “Right here.” I turn it in my lap so that she can read it.

  “What does this say right here?” Cassie asks, her finger on the page. We’re both exquisitely aware that if the book wasn’t in my lap, she’d have her hand right on my crotch.

  “Advertising ROI,” I say. “Return on investment.”

  “Oh…right.” She puts her notebook down on the grass and leans back on her elbows, arching her body toward the sun. Her head drops back and her eyes close, and all of a sudden it’s way too easy for me to picture how she’d look naked. “God, that feels good. It’s such a nice day, don’t you think?”

  “Yep,” I say. The bells in the tower at the middle of the quad chime twice and I touch my phone. “Damn, it’s already two. I need to get going.” I shove my notebook into my backpack. “Good to see you,” I say, standing up.

  Cassie doesn’t move, just stays stretched out on the lawn where I can get a good look at her. “The game’s at four, right? Some friends and I were thinking about coming to watch.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “That would be great.”

  “Maybe we can do something after? Go out to eat or something?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, pulling the pack onto my shoulder. “I have a lot of work to catch up on and then there’s a road trip early next week.”

  Cassie lifts her head and squints up at me. “Well think about it and let me know.” She bites her bottom lip with her top teeth in a way that has me missing Jenna more than ever.

  “I will. See you later.”

  I walk away from Cassie as quickly as I can. She’s hot, she’s blond and she’s obviously available but she’s nothing compared to Jenna. I expected the ache would go away after this long, that I could finally think about Jenna without feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut, but every time I think of her, my brain goes into overdrive and flashes through images of us together that are like some kind of exquisite torture. Jenna under the stars on the hill…Jenna on the back of my bike with her thighs hugging mine…Jenna on top of me in the tree house, her hair falling around her face as she comes. And then Jenna’s eyes when she sees Mom for the first time…the way she totally shut down when I said those three stupid words.

  I walk into the locker room early, glad that I beat most of the guys here. I need to get my shit together for today’s game, maybe take a few extra turns at batting practice, work the bugs out. If the scouts really do show up today, I have to give them something to look at.

  “Hey!” Rowan says, walking in from the field. He’s already got his uniform on and his glove hanging from his hand.

  “You’re here early,” I say, pulling my jersey over my head.

  “My curve’s been a little weak lately,” he says. “Wanted to make sure I was warm before the game.”

  “Right.” Of course. If there are scouts in the stands today, Rowan better bring his shit too. You never know who’s going to be hot, and if anyone else has a chance of getting drafted, it’s Rowan.

  A few of the other guys drift in as I finish getting dressed and Rowan ices up his arm.

  “Holy shit!” Mitch says, dropping his bag down on the locker room bench next to me. “They really showed!”

  “Who showed?” Rowan asks.

  “Scouts,” he says. “Up in the stands, I saw them—video cameras on tripods and everything.

  I feel my stomach flip. This is what I’ve always wanted. “From the Astros?”

  Mitch grins. “Astros and Diamondbacks! Two of them! Can you fucking believe it?” He smacks me in the arm with his glove. “They’re all here to see you.”

  I smile tightly. I can’t think about the video cameras in the stands or the guys that are running them. Letting my head get too far out in front of the game is going to be deadly.

  “You’re going to be a fucking millionaire by this time next year,” Rowan says.

  “God, would you shut up?” I tell him.

  “Seriously,” Mitch says. “The D-backs paid Trevor Cahill almost six million last year, and that’s before all of the endorsement deals.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “And half the team got less than that.”

  Mitch shrugs. “Hey, the starting salary for the Ds is almost half a million—not exactly chump change for chasing a ball around seven months out of the year. You might even be able to buy another bike with that much cash.”

  “Or get your own apartment,” Rowan says.

  I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. “You want me to find somewhere else to stay?”

  “No! God, I was kidding.”

  I shove my street clothes into my locker. I’ve been crashing on his couch for weeks—it’s probably time to move on anyway. “Yeah. But I should probably figure out something permanent.”

  “You going back to your place?” Mitch says.

  “I don’t know.” The thought of running into Jenna in the hallway of our building is like torture. I couldn’t bear it if she looked at me with disgust in her eyes. By staying away I can nurse the tiny flicker of hope that’s still inside of me.

  Mitch’s phone buzzes and he swipes it on. “Huh,” he says, texting something back quickly.

  “What?” I ask. I check my bag to make sure I’ve got everything I need with me.

  “It’s Nina,” he says. He stares at the phone waiting for a reply.

  I don’t miss the sound of concern in his voice. “She okay?”

  “Yeah. She’s fine. She just said that Jenna had to go home and she’s bummed that she can’t go with her.”

  “What happened?”

  Mitch shrugs, but then his phone buzzes again. “She’s heading to the hospital in Abilene. Looks like her grandfather drove the tractor into a beehive.”

  “Bees?” asks Rowan. “How bad can it be?”

  Mitch swipes the screen and keeps reading. “Bad enough for them to helicopter him in on life support,” he says. “I guess Jenna’s pretty freaked out. Nina didn’t want her to go alone, but she’s got a test in an hour that she can’t get out of.”

  I think about Jenna racing through the Texas hills all alone in her car. Gramps isn’t exactly my favorite person on the planet, but nobody deserves that. “Tell Nina to keep us posted. Make sure she tells you if she hears anything, okay?”

  “Got it,” Mitch says, typing away.

  Rowan swats me on the arm. “Come on. We’ve got a game to win and you’ve got some scouts to impress.”

  “Right,” I say, grabbing my bag and heading to the dugout.

  After I dump my stuff I jog out toward
the wall to field some balls. I try not to look, but I can’t help it and I spot them right away. One guy is just above our dugout and the other is on the first base line—each of them have cameras on tripods, waiting for something to take back to their teams. Astros or Diamondbacks—either one would be amazing. I throw a ball down to third and think about how it would feel to be doing this in a major league stadium, the bright lights making the darkness seem like daylight.

  I jump up to grab a ball from second base and send it whizzing back. I wonder how Gramps is and I look toward the dugout but don’t see Mitch anywhere. I hope Nina texts him when she hears something. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like if Gramps dies—he’s the closest thing she’s ever had to a father and even with her mom there, it’s going to be devastating.

  “Branch!” I hear a shout from the plate and realize I’m not paying attention as a ball gets past me and bounces against the outfield wall. I chase after it and send it toward home. I have to put everything else out of my head and just concentrate on the game or I’m going to blow it.

  I glance at the clock up on the scoreboard—it’s 3:30. If Jenna left an hour ago, then she should be in Abilene in about half an hour. It must have been bad if they took him all the way up there. I picture Jenna standing by his bedside, the old man hooked up to machines, barely recognizable as the guy with suspenders holding up the huge belly that Jenna knows so well. I jog in from the outfield to take some batting practice, but my mind isn’t here. All I can see is Jenna’s face as she watches Gramps slip away and I know that more than anything I want to be there with her. I want to be the one to hold her other hand, to be the person she can cry to, to be the one who will hold her when she needs arms around her.

  All of a sudden I know what I need to do. Mitch is putting on his batting helmet when I grab him outside the dugout. “Hey! I need to borrow your truck.”

  He looks at me strangely. “Okay. I’ll give you the keys after the game.”

  I shake my head. “Not after the game. Now.”

  Mitch puts the bat down slowly. “Why?”

  “I have to go see Jenna. At the hospital.”

  “Now?” He glances down the first base line. “Ty, seriously bro, pull yourself together. There are scouts…actual scouts from the majors here to see your stupid ass hit a baseball. Think about what you’re doing.”