Grand Slam

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Grand Slam Page 7

by Tracie Delaney


  He opened the bedside-cabinet drawer and took out his phone. The minute it booted up, he had an overwhelming need to call Natalia again. Now that he knew her number, it was as if a switch had been flicked, and he constantly wanted to meddle with it. From very early on in their relationship, he’d thought his attraction to her was as strong as heroin would be to a narcotic addict. Despite him being the one to push her away, that compulsion hadn’t abated. In fact, it had strengthened in the time they’d been apart, and hearing her voice the previous night had filled the syringe. All he had to do was plunge it into his arm.

  After the fifth time of pressing Call and End in quick succession, he phoned Rupe instead. His call went to voicemail, and when he checked his watch, he groaned. They’d only just landed, so Rupe’s phone would still be switched off. Antsy despite the gruelling workout, he paced up and down, looking at his watch every five minutes. When he estimated Rupe and his mum would be off the plane, he tried again.

  “Jesus, have you got a camera on me or something?” Rupe said when he answered.

  “Yeah. I hired some dick to follow you around.”

  Rupe snickered. “You okay, man?”

  Cash forced a smile, hoping it would seep into his voice. “Yeah. What time are you getting to the hotel?”

  “We should be there in half an hour.”

  “Good.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bollocks.”

  Cash sighed. “I spoke to Natalia.”

  Rupe inhaled a sharp breath. “You did?”

  “Didn’t know it was her. She’s changed her number. I got a missed call, and when I called back to find out who it was, she answered.”

  “How is she?”

  “I miss her.” Cash’s voice caught, and he kicked himself for showing weakness.

  “Did she say where she was?”

  “No.”

  “Did you ask?”

  “No.”

  “Useful conversation, then.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Rupe laughed. “Look, head on over to the hotel. Let’s get your mum a few gin and tonics, and then you and I can have a proper talk. Man to man.”

  “Man to man? You lying to yourself again?”

  “Fuck you right back.”

  Cash chuckled, a lightness lifting his spirits. “I’ll meet you there.”

  Despite his initial reticence at their visit, he couldn’t wait to see them. He opened the wardrobe door and checked the bag of presents, grabbed his overnight case, and set off.

  The roads were empty, and it didn’t take long to drive to the hotel. He parked and walked into a reception area decked out with Christmas decorations and an enormous tree covered in twinkling lights. At least they’d made an effort. The hotel was definitely more festive than the residential facility.

  He made his way up to the suite of rooms he’d booked on the top floor. He only had to knock once before the door flew open and his mother threw herself into his arms.

  “Easy, Mum,” he said, kissing her on both cheeks.

  “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” she said, tugging him inside. “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Cash said, deciding not to tell her how close he’d been to bailing. “Flight okay?”

  “Yes, lovely.” She looked him over, her keen gaze missing nothing. “What happened to your hand?”

  Cash shrugged. “I had an accident. It’s fine. It’ll be good as new in a few days.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What type of accident?”

  Cash expelled a breath. “Let’s not ruin the day, Mum. I’m making progress—so Dr Bauer says.”

  “And what do you say?”

  He wandered over to the minibar and grabbed a juice. “Some good days, some not so good.”

  “What was the trigger for that?” she said, pointing her chin at his hand.

  Cash inwardly groaned. “Do you mind if we don’t go into the details?”

  A flicker of sadness crossed her face. “Of course not.”

  “I’ll go and get Rupe,” he said. “And then we can open presents before lunch.”

  Cash kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the couch. After a long and stressful day, the stirrings of a migraine had him reaching for his painkillers. He poured a glass of water and threw two back.

  “You still get a lot of headaches?” Rupe asked.

  “Not nearly as many as I used to.”

  “Do you want me to go?”

  “No.” Cash massaged his temples. “It’ll pass.”

  Rupe’s gaze became shuttered. “I know you didn’t want us to come for Christmas. I’m sorry if we’ve made things harder.”

  “It was more that I didn’t want to go home.”

  “Why not?”

  Cash teased at his beard. “Because I wouldn’t have come back.”

  Rupe frowned. “You’ve been here seven weeks. Surely that’s enough?”

  Cash waved his bandaged hand in Rupe’s face. “Yeah, I’ve totally got everything under control.”

  “I think you’re being way too hard on yourself. But then again, you always have been.”

  Cash expelled a sigh. “You don’t get it.”

  “Then explain it to me.”

  Rupe’s insistent questioning started to irk him. Cash lurched to his feet and began to pace. “You want to know what I’m most afraid of?” he said, his voice increasing in volume with every word spilt. “That I’ll end up like him.”

  Rupe clenched his jaw. “You are nothing like your father.”

  “What the fuck do you know?” Cash poked a finger into his temple. “You’re not inside my head.”

  “Thank Christ for that,” Rupe said with a grin.

  His anger began to grow at Rupe’s cavalier responses. He leaned down, his face inches from that of his best friend—and the man he badly wanted to punch. “Fuck you.”

  Rupe gave a brief shrug. “If it makes you feel better, go ahead. Curse at me all you like. But remember, I’ve known you for eighteen years. You’ve always had a quick temper. But physically abusive? Come on.”

  “But that was before!” Cash yelled in Rupe’s face, his hands curling into tight fists. “Before that pissed-up bastard ruined my life.”

  He launched himself upright, closer than he wanted to admit to headbutting the supercilious fucker who was imitating his best friend. He laced his hands together and cupped the back of his neck as he began to pace once more. Rupe, meanwhile, didn’t say a word. He sipped his wine, one leg crossed over the opposing knee, and watched Cash storm around the room. Rupe didn’t even flinch when Cash shot the occasional venomous glare his way. In fact, he looked bored and at one point even yawned.

  Dredging up every ounce of self-control, Cash forced himself to cross over to the window. He focused on the people below going about their business. He took several deep breaths and rolled his shoulders. After a few minutes, he managed to pull himself together. He turned around and perched on the window ledge.

  “Sorry,” he said to a still-silent Rupe, who was thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

  “How come you didn’t hit me?”

  Cash frowned. “What?”

  “How come you didn’t hit me?” Rupe repeated.

  “Why would I hit you?”

  “Exactly,” Rupe said, shooting Cash a triumphant stare.

  Cash scratched his cheek. “What the hell are you going on about?”

  “Jeez, dickhead. You may have the looks, but I’ve definitely got the brains.”

  The last remnants of Cash’s anger dissipated, and he grinned. “Are you going to explain what you mean, or sit there insulting my intelligence?”

  “You were furious with me. I could see it in your eyes. You really wanted to give me a good hiding, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what stopped you?”

  “I don’t know,” Cash said.

  “Sure you do.” Rupe
refilled his wine glass and took a sip. “Think about it.”

  Cash stared at the ground, his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. He’d come so close, his fists clenching of their own volition, but then he’d chosen to walk away. He’d taken a self-imposed time out and called upon the coping techniques Bauer had been teaching him all these weeks.

  He lifted his eyes to Rupe’s. “Because you’re the closest thing to a brother I’ve ever had, and the thought of hitting you… I’d rather cut my hands off.”

  Rupe spread his arms out wide. “And my genius status remains firmly at number one.”

  “As does your arrogance.”

  “I’d say we’re neck and neck on that score.”

  Cash’s lips twitched. “I’m not sure you’ve actually proved anything.”

  “Yes, I have. Only you’re too dumb to figure it out.”

  “Okay, wise one. Fill me in, then.”

  Rupe touched his tongue to his teeth and grinned. “In a straight-out fight between me and Tally, who do you care about more?”

  Pain lanced through Cash at the mere mention of her name. “No offence, but I’ll never love anyone as much as I love her.”

  Rupe rose from his seat and clapped his hands around Cash’s upper arms. “And there you have it, numbnuts. If you couldn’t hit me, despite my provocation, why are you so sure you’ll hurt Tally?”

  Cash expelled a curt breath. “I threw a vase at her head.”

  Rupe shook his head. “Remember when you broke your right arm jumping off that wall in the second year of high school?”

  Cash gave him an exasperated look. “Relevance?”

  “You still played cricket that weekend. You bowled with your left hand and were still faster and more accurate than anyone else on the field. If you’d wanted to hit Tally with that vase, you would have.”

  Cash rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I can’t take the risk.”

  Rupe raised his eyes heavenward. “You infuriate me, Cash. This all comes down to your determination to punish yourself because you don’t think you’re deserving of her love. Or anyone’s for that matter. And yet she loved you with everything she had, so you had to find a way to ruin it. Face it, all this stems from the fucking guilt you’re still carrying around about your father.”

  “I didn’t ask to be hit by a drunk driver.”

  “No, but you were past that. On your way to recovery. The whole breakup with Tally was engineered by you.”

  Cash snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. I love her. I was going to marry her. More than anything, I want her back, but I also wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I hurt her.”

  “And I’ve proved that is highly unlikely. If you can’t smack me, despite my best efforts to rile you, there’s no way you would ever hurt her. You’d call on one of those self-help-strategy things you’ve been learning about and do exactly what you did with me today.”

  “I’m not fixed yet,” Cash said.

  Rupe cursed under his breath. He grabbed Cash’s jacket and reached inside to grab his phone.

  “You’re fixed enough,” he said, thrusting the phone into Cash’s hand. “Call her.”

  Cash hung his head. “I can’t,” he whispered.

  The phone slipped out of his hand and thudded onto the floor.

  12

  Tally stood by the quayside and pulled her coat closer around her. A chill wind was blowing off the Mediterranean Sea, and she shivered as she watched the ferryboat draw ever closer. Though the day was cold, the sun shone brightly, and she held up her hand to shield her eyes. Five more minutes, and the boat would dock.

  Her stomach was tight with nerves and her mouth uncomfortably dry. She licked her lips and swallowed. It didn’t matter how many times she played events over in her mind. She couldn’t second-guess the outcome. Em was unpredictable at the best of times. It was one of the things that made her such a fun person to be around. No one quite knew what she was going to do next.

  Except this time, Tally needed her reaction to be thoughtful and measured, rather than the usual knee-jerk response. “Speak first, think later—if at all,” was Em’s motto.

  Tally touched her fingers to the crisp envelope nestled in her pocket. The contents of the envelope held the precious scan of her unborn child. She’d had it done a week earlier but still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that she was going to be a mother. She must have looked at that grainy picture twenty times a day, hoping the more she did, the more real her situation would become. And yet every day the thought of motherhood grew more surreal.

  As the ferry docked, the first mate threw a rope onto the quayside and jumped out to secure the vessel. Safome didn’t get many visitors this time of year, and there were only a handful of people aboard. She spotted Em and waved, more anxious than ever to get this over with. Many times over the past week, she’d almost spilt her news over the phone but had refrained. She needed to do this face to face, where she’d be able to read Em’s reaction.

  Em was first off the boat, and she ran towards Tally, dragging her suitcase along the slippery gangway. The two girls fell into each other’s arms.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” Em said with her head buried in the collar of Tally’s coat.

  “Missed you more,” Tally said, hooking her arm through Em’s as they set off walking. “Come on. My place isn’t very far from here. Let’s get out of the cold.”

  “Cold? This is positively tropical compared to London. Minus three when I left.”

  Tally grinned. “It’s amazing how quickly you get used to the temperature here. What feels mild to you is bloody freezing to me.”

  “I can’t wait to see the place. How’s the refugee thing going?”

  “Great. I love working in the café. Feels like I’m doing some real good in the world, you know? Seeing how gracious and grateful the refugees are, it sort of puts my shit into perspective.”

  Em nodded. “I can imagine. What about the first article?”

  “I sent it over to Pete a couple of days ago. I’m hoping he’ll agree to publish soon. It’s so sad, Em, what’s happening here and across Greece.”

  “Well, if anyone can do a story like that justice, it’s you, babes.”

  When they walked into Tally’s apartment, Em parked her suitcase by the door and drifted over to the window.

  “Blimey. What a view. Look how green the water is from up here.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty special.”

  “And we have to take a walk along that beach. It’s stunning.”

  “Definitely,” Tally said.

  Em glanced over her shoulder. “No wonder I can’t persuade you to move back to London.”

  A slug of homesickness hit Tally. “I do miss it.”

  “Yeah, but this place is tranquil. Exactly what you need.”

  Deciding now wasn’t the time to voice her thoughts about moving back home, Tally nodded. “Why don’t I put the kettle on?”

  Em flashed her an incredulous look. “Kettle? I haven’t seen you in weeks. Please tell me the fridge is full of wine?”

  Tally chuckled. “I’ve not been very well, so I think I’ll stick to the tea.” Not exactly a lie, but certainly misleading.

  Em narrowed her eyes. “Why, what’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing serious. I’ll be fine.”

  “You never mentioned it.”

  “Because I’m okay.”

  Em frowned. “Come to think of it, you do look a bit peaky. Here, you sit, and I’ll make the tea.”

  “That would be nice.”

  Tally shrugged off her coat and threw it over the back of the couch. She was going to let Em make the tea, and then she would tell her. Nausea flooded her stomach. She began to fidget as Em faffed about. When Em finally handed over her tea, Tally was almost at bursting point.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, babes?” Em said, settling into the chair by the window. “You’re jumpy as fuck.”

  Now that the time had come, Tally couldn’
t find the right words. No matter where she thought about starting, she knew it wouldn’t come out right. Instead, she handed over the envelope containing the scan picture.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it,” Tally whispered. She wiped clammy hands on her jeans.

  “Is it a letter from Cash?”

  “Just open it, Em.”

  Em reached inside and removed the ultrasound picture. Her brows knitted together, and then her head jerked backwards. Her stunned gaze found Tally’s.

  “You’re pregnant?” she said in an incredulous tone.

  “Yep.”

  Em gasped, her eyes wide as her mouth opened and closed, even though no words came out.

  “Say something,” Tally said.

  “Is it Cash’s?”

  “Jesus, Em. Yes. For Christ’s sake, what do you take me for?”

  Em nodded. “Yeah. Silly me. Cash ruined you for anyone else.”

  “Please don’t,” Tally said.

  “Does he know?”

  “No.”

  “When are you going to tell him?”

  Tally rested her head against the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. “I’m not.”

  “Yes, that’s probably best,” Em said.

  Surprised, Tally’s eyes snapped open. “I didn’t think you’d agree with my decision not to tell him.”

  Em shrugged. “Well, if you’re not keeping it, there’s no point shaking the tiger’s tail.”

  Tally cocked her head to the side. “What makes you think I’m not keeping it?”

  Em’s body stiffened. “You can’t be seriously considering keeping this baby.”

  “I am keeping it.”

  Em pressed closer. “Why would you choose to ruin your life?”

  “I don’t see it that way. Lots of women have babies alone. They cope. So can I.”

  “It’s not about that,” Em said, gesticulating wildly. “Don’t you see? If you have this baby, every time you look at him or her, you’ll see Cash. And your heart will break. If you’re still determined you’re not going to try to make things right with him, then please think about what you’re doing.”

 

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