A Winning Season

by Rochelle Alers

  “I won’t bother you so you can get back to your book.”

  Zoey set the book on glass-topped rattan table. “You’re not bothering me. I just finished it. I’m going to wait a few days before I begin another one.”

  “Is reading a hobby for you?” Sutton asked.

  She nodded. “Between working and taking care of Harper, reading or bingeing on my favorite television shows are my only guilty pleasures.”

  “That sounds very safe.”

  “That’s because I can’t afford to take risks until my brother finishes school and hopefully goes off to college.”

  Sutton lifted his coffee mug. “Do you drink coffee?”

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  “Have you had any this morning?”

  Zoey shook her head. “Not yet.”

  He pushed to his feet. “I made enough for several cups. Miss Williams doesn’t have a single-brew coffeemaker, so I had to resort to the alternative carafe style.”

  “Miss Sharon is somewhat old-fashioned when it comes to certain things,” she said in defense of her longtime neighbor. Never-married Sharon Williams had become her guardian angel whenever she needed someone to look after her brothers while she made a last-minute run to the local supermarket before it closed. And if it was too late, then she had to drive to the all-night big-box store off the interstate. “And yes, I would like a cup.”

  “How do you take your coffee?”

  “Light and sweet.”

  Sutton winked at her. “Light and sweet sounds very parochial when I’m so used to hearing caramel Frappuccino with soymilk, caramel drizzle and whipped cream.”

  Throwing back her head, Zoey laughed. “It sounds as if you’ve had your share of Starbucks coffees.”

  Sutton’s laughter joined hers. “I did until I brought an espresso machine to brew my own coffee concoctions.”

  “Lucky you. I have a single-serve coffeemaker that fits perfectly with my lifestyle.” She didn’t entertain people in her home, and if she did want gourmet coffee, then she would use the dwindling supply of Jamaican Blue Mountain in her refrigerator. However, fancy coffees weren’t high on her list of things she needed to make her day.

  “I’ll be right back with your light and sweet.”

  Zoey stared at Sutton’s back as he turned and went into his house. The black T-shirt hugged his muscular upper body like a second skin, and the relaxed white jeans fit his waist and hips as if they’d been made expressly for his magnificent physique. When she’d gotten up earlier that morning, she went online to google Sutton’s name and she discovered things about her neighbor that left her mouth gaping in shock. The young man who’d been raised by a single mother had made it big, yet with fame and fortune had remained humble. He’d also joined an organization with other professional athletes that mentored at-risk youth, children growing up in single-parent households and families experiencing the loss of a family member while in combat. He had also set up his own charity: the Reed Foundation Road to Success.

  She’d also examined the photos of Sutton and his ex-wife, wondering what had gone wrong in their eight-year marriage. Zoey had to admit that the tall, stunningly beautiful supermodel known as Angell was his perfect physical counterpart. Their marriage ended without a hint of scandal and when questioned why they were divorcing, Sutton and Angell refused to discuss it with the press, leaving people to wonder if their marriage was a sham as a cover for other proclivities. She’d found herself staring at some of his publicity photos. The one with him sitting on a chair wearing only a pair of jeans while staring directly into the camera was so sensual that it reminded Zoey of how long it had been since she’d had any sexual interaction with a man. The last and only man she’d ever slept with was her high school boyfriend.

  The door to the neighboring house opened and Sutton emerged carrying two mugs. He came over and joined her on the porch swing. “A light and sweet for the pretty lady.”

  Zoey felt pinpoints of heat in her face when he’d referred to her as pretty. It was a term she’d occasionally overheard by some men she’d encountered. She wasn’t vain about her looks, but she managed to ignore the overtures whenever men attempted to come on to her because she knew nothing would come of it. And for the few who’d asked her why she was so standoffish, her comeback was as a single woman with two kids, she didn’t have time to date. She hadn’t dated since high school, and once Harper left home her focus would be on nursing school.

  But Sutton calling her pretty was different. He wasn’t a stranger but her next-door neighbor. And interacting with him verified his being a celebrity heartthrob was not a fluke. He was the total package. Looks, brawn and brains. Even his voice, low, beautifully modulated with a hint of a drawl, was hypnotic.

  Sutton gave Zoey her mug, noticing her hand had trembled slightly when their fingers touched. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m good,” she said.

  He wanted to believe Zoey was all right but the rigidness in her body said otherwise. He stood and moved to a nearby chair. “I’m sorry if I invaded your personal space.”

  She lowered her eyes, staring into the contents of her mug. “It’s okay.”

  Sutton drank his coffee, staring at Zoey over the rim. He was perceptive enough to know she had been completely at ease with him the day before, but this morning her body language said otherwise, and he wondered what he’d said or done to make her uneasy.

  Suddenly it occurred to Sutton that he may have made a faux pas when he had referred to Zoey as pretty lady, especially when he did not know whether she was involved with someone. “I’m sorry, Zoey.”

  She halted putting the mug to her mouth. “For what?”

  “For making you uncomfortable because I called you pretty lady. Hell, I don’t even know if you’re involved with someone.”

  Zoey swallowed a mouthful of coffee. The corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled. “I really have to give it to you, Sutton Reed.”

  A slight frown marred his natural good looks. “What are you talking about?”

  “You did not make me uncomfortable, and if you wanted to know if I’m involved with someone, then all you had to do was ask.”

  A hint of a smile replaced his frown. “Are you?”

  The seconds ticked as she met his eyes. “No. And I can’t afford to because of a promise I made to Kyle and Harper when they were little boys. I told them it would be just the three of us until they were old enough to take care of themselves.”

  Sutton set his mug on a side table. “I can understand you making that promise when they were boys, but I doubt if Harper would hold it against you if you decided to start dating.”

  “Right now, Harper has no say in how I live my life.”

  “Is he giving you a problem?”

  Zoey went completely still. “Why would you ask me that?”

  “I was sitting out on the porch when he came home last night. Someone had dropped him off and I noticed he was a little unsteady on his feet.”

  If Sutton saw Harper coming home obviously under the influence, then Zoey wondered how many of her other neighbors had also witnessed it. Zoey did not want or need people gossiping about the Allen boy drinking or possibly drugging. She had managed to raise Kyle to adulthood without an incident, but life was testing her because Harper had decided he wasn’t going to make it that easy for her.

  “I don’t know you and you don’t know me, Sutton, and there’s no way I’m going to dump on you about my problems.”

  Sutton angled his head, giving her a long stare. “You’ve lived in the Falls all your life and you should know that folks here always look out for one another. Those who have more than they need always share with those who don’t have enough. And it’s not always about money.”

  Zoey knew he was right. The people in the town had been more than generous when tragedy struck her family. Even
now some folks still asked if she needed anything. She nodded. “You’re right. I give thanks every day that I live here and not somewhere else, because without the help of Preston McAvoy, the chamber of commerce and the worshippers at the church, I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you.”

  The local law firm had handled her legal problems; local contractors had volunteered their services to make certain the house was free of violations; a company selling and installing gas heaters set up an installment plan for her to pay off the cost of the unit over three years.

  “So once Harper graduates you plan to stay here?” Sutton asked.

  Zoey smiled. “Where would I go?”

  He shrugged broad shoulders under his tee. “I don’t know. Maybe you’d prefer someplace that has a little more excitement.”

  She took another sip of the delicious brew. Sutton had made the coffee exactly how she liked it. “The Falls has enough excitement for the four thousand-plus folks who live here. Someone had submitted a proposal to the town council to open a club and it was unanimously voted down. What we don’t need is a club with people getting drunk and acting like fools. The town council in Mineral Springs has closed two clubs in the past four years because of fights and rowdiness.”

  “The Springs has almost twice our population, so there’s bound to be a few more incidents than we have here.”

  “Speaking of excitement, why did you decide to move back here after spending half your life in Hotlanta?” Zoey had asked the question that had plagued her since hearing word that Sutton Reed was moving back to Wickham Falls.

  Sutton closed his eyes for several seconds. “I never really got used to living in a big city. The crowds and noise didn’t upset me whenever I was at the stadium, but once the game was over all I wanted was someplace quiet where I could decompress.”

  “Whenever you were interviewed you seemed so confident, so in control of yourself.”

  “That was all an act, Zoey. I’d learned early on to switch it on for the cameras and microphones. There was one Sutton for the sports reporters and another Sutton when he was home behind closed doors.”

  “There is something I don’t understand.”

  He gave her a long, penetrating stare. “What don’t you understand?”

  Zoey met his eyes. “If you profess to be a private person, why then did you marry a high-profile supermodel?”

  Sutton was preempted from answering her question as a truck drove up and parked in front of his house. He stood. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I have to take care of a delivery.”

  She hadn’t meant to ask him a question that was obviously personal, but his revelation that he did not like the spotlight appeared completely incongruous juxtaposed to the photos of him and his glamorous ex-wife. The beautiful Sports Illustrated model was regularly photographed on and off the catwalk and had countless Twitter followers. Angell adored the camera and it in turn loved her, and she’d used it to her advantage to increase her visibility and popularity.

  The screen door opened, and Harper joined Zoey on the porch. She smiled. If she hadn’t told him to get up early to clean up the backyard, she knew he wouldn’t have gotten out of bed until late morning or early afternoon. Whenever he didn’t have school, he stayed up half the night watching the sports channels and playing video games and then crawled into bed just before dawn. She did not have a problem with her brother’s waking and sleeping habits because whenever he had classes, he’d set the alarm on his cell phone to get up on time to meet the school bus.

  “Holy shit! That’s him.”

  “What did I tell you about cursing, Harper?” Zoey snapped angrily. It was as if her brother deliberately used foul language in her presence because he knew it annoyed her. It wasn’t as if she’d never used an expletive, but she had made it a habit not to curse, especially in her home. She was aware that Harper believed using four-letter words made him feel more like an adult, and initially she had deliberately ignored it, but lately everything he said was laced with obscenities.

  “Lighten up, Zoey. All kids my age curse.”

  Setting down the mug, she stood up, struggling to control her temper. “You’re not all kids, but my brother. And I’m not going to tolerate bad language in my home, Harper Allen.” There must have been something in her voice, body language or Zoey’s using his full name that changed Harper’s expression from cocky to remorseful.

  “Okay. I will watch my language.”

  She glared at him. “You do that.”

  Harper walked to the railing. “Is that Sutton Reed?”

  Zoey stood beside her brother. “Yes. He just moved in next door.”

  Harper’s hazel eyes grew bigger. “You’re kidding me! He’s living in Miss Sharon’s house?”

  She heard the awe in Harper’s voice. “Yes.”

  “Have you met him?”

  “Yes, Harper, I met him.”

  Harper grasped her upper arm, his fingers tightened, unaware of his strength. “Can you introduce me to him?”

  Reaching up, Zoey managed to extricate his hand. Sutton stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed over his chest. The driver had opened the rear of the truck and lowered a ramp. “He appears to be busy now.”

  “But can you have me meet him when he’s not busy?”

  She glanced up at Harper. He’d grown several inches in the past year and now towered over her. There was no doubt he was experiencing hero worship. “Okay.”

  Harper dropped a kiss on her hair. “Thanks, sis. I’m going to clean up the yard now.”

  “Once you’re finished, you can join me for breakfast with the works.” It was only on weekends that Zoey had time to make Harper’s favorite breakfast foods: grits, eggs, bacon, sausage or ham, biscuits and home fries.

  “You’re the best.”

  Zoey winked at him. “I try.” She was the best to Harper only when she wasn’t telling him what he should and should not to.

  She watched Harper as he sprinted down the porch steps and disappeared around to the back of the house. She hadn’t lied to him. She did try to give him what he needed to avoid the problems that had befallen some of the town’s teenage boys who were dabbling in drugs and alcohol and, increasingly, fathering babies with different girls.

  Zoey turned and went back into the house, recalling the time she’d spent most of her waking hours praying and second-guessing herself about whether she had done the right thing to petition the court to assume full responsibility for her brothers when she’d had to be a mother, father and sister. Thankfully it had gotten easier, and the day she witnessed Kyle walk across the stage to receive his high school diploma she felt as if her heart would burst with pride.

  Meanwhile, Harper was an above-average student who’d talked about going to college. However, he wasn’t certain what he wanted to study, unlike herself, who’d always wanted to go into nursing. Zoey reassured him that he had a lot of time to decide what he wanted to be when he grew up.

  With ten years behind them, the next two were certain to go quickly.

  Chapter Three

  “Well, Mom, you’ve been back a week now and how are you adjusting to living in the Falls again?” Sutton asked his mother. It was just like old times when Sutton and his mother joined her sister Evelyn, brother-in-law and their son and daughter for Sunday dinners. That was before the unexpected death of the Powells’ thirteen-year-old son from meningitis, just a few months after Sutton had first taken the field as a Major League Baseball player. Kevin’s passing had sent Evelyn into a downward emotional spiral from which, after more than a decade, she’d only recently begun to recover.

  Michelle smiled at him over the rim of her water glass, and he noticed a few new lines added to the network around a pair of clear brown eyes with glints of gold in a complexion reminiscent of polished mahogany. At sixty-one, she still had the ability to turn men’s heads, and it had been n
o different with his father. Sutton had an ambivalent relationship with his biological father, who was unable to care about anyone but himself.

  “It’s been good,” Michelle said.

  Evelyn Powell swallowed a mouthful of garlicky green beans. “That’s because my sister doesn’t have to put up with her fake friends who would drop by because they claim they just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

  Picking up the napkin beside his plate, Bruce Powell dabbed his mouth. Light from the dining room chandelier shimmered on his shaved pate. The bright red hair from his youth had thinned over the years until the owner of Wickham Falls’ oldest family-owned and most profitable business decided to eliminate the graying fringe.

  “I thought you came back because you missed us,” he teased, dark blue eyes brimming with amusement.

  Michelle smiled at her brother-in-law. “That, too.” She sobered and her expression grew serious. “If you really want to know the truth, I miss living in a small town where folks know and look out for one another. When I first moved into the subdivision, none of those so-called bougie people said a mumbling word to me until they discovered I was Sutton Reed’s mother. Then I lost count of the number of invitations to their luncheon and dinner parties.”

  Bruce extended his wineglass to Michelle and then Sutton. “Well, I’m glad to have you both back.”

  “It would have been nice if Georgina could’ve joined us tonight,” Evelyn said. “But when I called her to say we were having Sunday dinner like we used to, she said she’s working on a project and wanted to finish it before her next quilting class.”

  Sutton shared a knowing glance with Bruce when the sisters launched into a discussion as to how their mother had attempted to teach them to knit, crochet and quilt, but they did not have the patience to sit and count stitches or learn to read an intricate pattern, and she finally gave up hope that her daughters would continue the tradition of creating heirloom handicrafts that would be passed down through generations of Reed women. His fondest memories of Grandmother Dorothea, or Granny Dot, were her homemade cakes. Every Sunday she would bake a different cake, and after a while he wasn’t able to decide his favorite among lemon pound, carrot, red velvet, hummingbird, coconut or strawberry shortcakes.