Playing Fate (Endgame Series Book 1)

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  “Just wanted to tell y’all I was impressed. Way to start the season. Undefeated at home and on the road. Five down, fifty one to go, then conference, boys.” His attitude brings me pride . . . and regret because I won’t be here to revel in the celebration.

  “Thank you, Coach,” we all mumble. As hard as we work, we all get humble when we’re praised. It’s surreal, this feeling of accomplishment, and I don’t want to give it up.

  The bus is silent for the trip back. I can’t sleep. I can’t silence my mind. We arrive back with time to attend classes. It isn’t mandatory after a travel day, but I may as well go. I rush home and shower, knowing after class I’ll just want to get Julie. We have a game tomorrow night and a light practice this evening, but I want my princess.

  Instead of entering the building where my class is, I bypass it and find myself staring at the field. The scent of clay, the aroma of freshly cut grass, and the chalky essence from the lines freshly painted. It all feels like home. This is where I’ve always belonged. The place I can shut the world out and just be.

  Calm.

  Still.

  Dominating.

  A kid who just plays ball.

  A kid who loves playing just ball.

  Not a teen dad.

  Not in love with a girl who runs more than she stays planted.

  Not contemplating his entire future staring at a baseball diamond.

  “Did you find it?” Caden joins me at the fence, watching the workers dust off and reset the bases.

  “Find what?”

  “Whatever you’re looking for. Whatever will calm that inner turmoil swirling in you.”

  “Nah, man. I think it’s as lost as I will be without the game.”

  “I think it’s located two doors down from you. Just as miserable and wandering through life as you.”

  “Caden,” I warn.

  “No. I gave you what you wanted. I haven’t said shit to her. She still thinks you’re with Adriane. I haven’t told her the truth when it’s obvious she’s sinking in her version of it. I know she hurt you, but she hurt herself just as much. The broken pieces she worked hard to put together, you’ve become the missing piece.”

  “I hear you. I understand. What you don’t understand is the commitment I made to Julie the second I held her. I knew Adriane didn’t want her. I knew she was going to leave. I swore I’d never let that affect Julie. I swore I wouldn’t let someone walk out of her life again. Saylor did. I broke a promise to my daughter, and I refuse to do it again. I can’t. I do that, I become like the man who broke Saylor.”

  “Fuck.” He grips the chain link fence and mimics my stance. Staring over the dirt that’s become a part of us. Staring at the empty stands where our names are chanted. Staring at the emptiness that once held our dreams and our answers.

  “I don’t want to give it up,” I admit.

  “We’ll figure a way,” he promises.

  “You and Mason gave up so much already. This isn’t your burden.”

  “It’s not yours either. It’s your daughter.”

  “She isn’t a burden. Ever. But she is a responsibility. One I love. One I wouldn’t trade.”

  “So when she gets older, you can tell her you quit for her. Way not to burden or guilt her.”

  “Fuck,” I whisper.

  “We’ll figure it out,” he reminds me.

  “We’ll figure it out,” I agree.

  Every fucking day I have to hear Lee Lee gabbing with her. The phone seems permanently attached to her ear when I’m near. Discussing Julie, discussing plans they have, discussing the life that should be mine.

  “Adriane, the pictures are so cute. I can’t believe you and Julie dressed alike, and Deacon looks so happy.” I try to ignore Emberlee’s conversation, but she’s loud. I turn the music up, and I can still hear her yammering. “She said Mama? Did you cry? I’m so happy for y’all.” It’s like she’s standing directly outside of my door. I throw my pillow and jump off my bed. I’ve had enough. Swinging my door open, she’s standing there.

  The smirk staining her face tells me what I suspected. She’s doing this on purpose. “I gotta go. Talk to you later.” She smiles as she hangs up.

  “Fuck you, Emberlee. I get it. You’re happy their family is intact. Believe it or not, I am, too. Julie deserves the best. But to stand outside my room, gloating as you talk to your friend is wrong. What are you trying to prove?”

  For months I’ve endured this torture. I’m at my breaking point. “Just reminding you. Wouldn’t want you going back begging Deacon for a chance.”

  “Does it bother you so bad I’m friends with them? Would it make you happy if I cut all ties?” I don’t know what else to do.

  “Yes. It would thrill me.” I suck in a breath, shocked that her words still hurt me.

  “Three months, Emberlee. We have three months until school is done, and I’m gone.” I slam the door in her face and drop face down bouncing against the mattress, allowing my pillow to catch the tears that don’t seem to stop flowing.

  “Come on, Shortstop. You’re wasting away.”

  “Don’t you have a game?” I need Mason and Caden to leave me alone.

  “I’m taking you to the gym.” I groan as Mason drags me up. “It’ll do you good. You can hit stuff. Kick things. Need me to get a few pictures for motivation?”

  “No. I’m good.” Their words, their faces are burned into my brain. “I don’t want to go.”

  “I’m not giving you a choice.” So it begins. Mason has me at the campus gym every day. He teaches me how to throw a punch, he shows me different kicks, none of which I’ve mastered. He pushes me, he heckles me, and I don’t give him what he’s looking for.

  “Shortstop, what can I do?”

  “Let me heal.” He nods.

  “Let’s go.” Caden storms into the gym area.

  “Where?” Mason asks.

  “Not you, dickhead. You had your shot, you didn’t fix her.”

  “I’m not a wind-up toy,” I remind them.

  “Might as well be, shorty.” Mason winks at me. “She’s all yours.” He’s given up after six days. Maybe I should revoke his man card.

  “Where are we going?” They’ve been great in accepting the distance I keep from Deacon, but I still have to make sure.

  “Hiking.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me? What part of this workout did you think I liked? What makes you think I want to add more exercise to my routine?”

  “I’ll buy you an ice cream.” I’m surrendering to his bribery.

  “Double scoop?” I push my luck.

  “Yes.” He pouts. Baseball season is in full-swing, and they can’t pollute their bodies with junk. More for me.

  Our drive is silent. He stops at River Boulevard and drags me from the car. I follow him as he sets the pace. “What is this supposed to accomplish?”

  “Just wait, grasshopper. If this doesn’t work, we’re shit outta luck, and I’m gonna start crushing happy pills and put them in your ice cream.” I think he’s joking.

  I huff and puff as I follow him along this path, climb a few hills, and curse the burn in my leg. “I’m not training for a marathon,” I remind him.

  “We’re here.” He stops at a small bridge. “Go for it.”

  “For what? Want me to catch our dinner?” He laughs.

  “No. Scream. Let it go.”

  “You’re crazy.” To prove my point, he shouts. It echoes across the water, and he belts another one.

  “Your turn.” I look at him skeptically. “I promise you’ll feel better.” I have nothing to lose, except my dignity if we get arrested for disturbing the peace. I open my mouth and scream. “That’s all you have.” Now he’s pushing my buttons.

  I shout.

  I scream.

  I holler into the nothingness.

  My throat stings. My eyes prickle with unshed tears. I keep going. Each sound I emit releases some of the pain I’ve stored in my body. I still have the regr
et. Not for him. Not for loving them. The regret of losing them. As my voice cracks, I drop to my knees, the concrete unyielding as I sob.

  Each tear releases a knot in my stomach.

  Each wracking sob lessens the vice grip on my heart.

  Caden stands and lets me do what I need. I don’t know how long I’ve been kneeling, but I’m lifted in his arms, too exhausted to stand. “Better?”

  “Yeah. Thank you.”

  “Anytime. We miss you.”

  “I’m not coming back next year.” He trips and closes his eyes as he stops walking.

  “Saylor, don’t.”

  “I can’t, Caden. It hurts too much. I miss him. I miss Julie. I miss everything. For the life of me, I can’t get any of it back. I can’t have you and Mason without him. I can’t have Avery without him. I can’t have any of you without him.”

  “Fuck.” His pain is laced in that word.

  “I hate Emberlee. I hate Adriane. I hate them both, but I hate her for leaving and coming back, for ripping everything from me. That makes me a horrible person because I’m wishing Julie’s mom didn’t exist.” He doesn’t say a word. His steps are purposeful until we’re at the car. He slams his door after situating me. “You need to go scream?”

  “No, I need to beat the shit out of someone.”

  “I don’t have any candidates. Check back tomorrow.” I smile at him, but he doesn’t return it. He’s focused, and when he pulls in his driveway, he turns to face me.

  “Promise me you won’t finalize transferring schools. Give me a few days.”

  “Caden you can’t change things.”

  “No, but I can get you the truth.”

  “The truth sucks. I’d rather live in denial.”

  “Promise me, Saylor.”

  “I promise.” I can give him a few days. It won’t change the outcome, but I can tell this is important to him. “I’ll miss you.”

  “No you won’t because you aren’t going anywhere.” Ah, I see he likes denial, too.

  I come back to this spot when I feel the walls closing in. I’m shocked I have a voice anymore but . . . it helps. When the ache becomes too intense, and I feel my chest will burst, I get in my car, drive here, and scream. I cry. I occasionally throw shit. In private. Away from prying eyes, nosy ears, and evil eavesdroppers.

  Today was tough seeing him in the yard playing with Julie. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breath. I could only stare. Look at the empty spot where I sat so many times, longing to be there.

  Time to head home and get ready. I made a mistake in a moment of weakness. I agreed to leave the house with Avery, and after I pinky promised, which according to her is more sacred than blood sisters, she tells me we are going to a baseball game—a Wichita State University baseball game. Where I’ll watch #44 and pretend like I’m not dying inside. Where I’ll silently cheer him to victory and watch idly as he celebrates with the ones he loves—after I remove myself so I don’t muddy that equation.

  I hear sobbing. It gets louder, and I rush to its culprit. Emberlee is curled in a fetal position on her floor, and everything in me is telling me to walk away. I can’t. I don’t care what kind of person she is, I’m not her, and if I let her actions change me, I’m lost. I drop to my knees, “Hey, what happened?”

  Her voice is muffled, and I can’t understand her. I rub her arm, her back, and try to soothe her. “M-m-my d-d-da-dad.” I hear her between wails.

  “What about him?” Please don’t let him be dead. I don’t deal with death and dads. I’m the poster child for avoidance where that’s concerned.

  “He was on some mission. He’s always on some mission. My mom called and there was an explosion. Nobody can reach him or any of his airmen, his crew that was with him.”

  “I need you to breathe. I’ll drive you to your parents. You need to be with her.” My green eyes stare into her green eyes. For a moment, I forget everything bad and remember when she was this girl . . . my friend. She stands, and I text Avery and tell her something came up. I’m sure they’ll know before long, but I need to get her where she needs to go.

  Emberlee’s situation was never clear to me. I know her father is a high-ranking general in the Air Force stationed at McConnell Air Force Base. I know she listens to his commands, yet resents him. She’s never opened up beyond the obvious, but for some reason during this drive she can’t stop. “I just want him to love me. I’ve been a disappointment since day one. I wasn’t born with a dick, so his family name ends with him. I wasn’t smart enough. I didn’t want to join the Air Force. I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I skate through and don’t take responsibility. He’s never asked me what I want. What I’m good at. I want his acceptance. You know what’s so fucked up? All I want is a home. I want to create a home with a man I love and teach my children they can be whatever they want. I want them to have the freedom to imagine. I never want to stifle them.” She sucks in a deep breath and wipes her tears. “I want to watch them make mistakes, and instead of berating them, I’ll pick them up and help them fix it. I’ll be their backbone when they’re scared. I’ll be their advocate in this fucked up world. I’ll be everything I wish he was to me, and I’ll do it with an amazing man.”

  I’m shocked. I’ve never witnessed vulnerable Emberlee. I’ve seen carefree Emberlee. I’ve seen bitchy Emberlee. I’ve seen party girl Emberlee. I’m starting to think nobody has ever seen the real Emberlee. The one she is morphing into. Her defenses are down. Her fear is heightened. It pains me to say it, but I don’t think we’re that different at the core . . . just in the way we handle things.

  “I’ve lied to you for weeks. For months.” Her tears come harder, and I’m afraid to ask. “Adriane didn’t go to Colorado. She didn’t know Deacon would be at the party.”

  “What?”

  “I invited her. I’ve faked all the phone calls.”

  I’m going to be sick. I’ve wasted so much time. I’ve hurt him. “I think I hate you. How’d you do it?”

  “I think you should hate me. I overheard Deacon tell them in Colorado not to tell you the truth. He was so hurt you didn’t reach out to him. I knew their loyalty would be to him, but just in case, I worked to make you believe something that was false.”

  “I don’t understand you.”

  “Adriane grew up the way I did. I know it doesn’t seem so awful to you considering what you endured. But she chose a different path, and I didn’t have an ally. You know my dad said a total of fifteen words to me last year. I counted them. I wrote each one down. None of them contained the word love. Or pride. Or happiness. I’m scared to break free, but it hurts to keep experiencing it. I figured if I could bring Adriane back and see she wasn’t happy I’d realize the grass wasn’t greener on the other side.” I feel her staring at me, and I’m struggling keeping control of the car. My hands are shaking, and my heart is beating fast . . . too fast. “But that wasn’t the case. She’s just fine without us. Without me. I don’t know how to process that. She’s the one who is supposed to understand me above all others.”

  I hate that part of me feels sorry for her. Empathizes with her. She doesn’t deserve it. I don’t want to give it. Her ramblings and confessions confuse me. She has Avery who loves her and was her sister. Mason, Caden, and Deacon would do anything for her. She turned her back on all of them – for Adriane. I don’t understand.

  Yet at one time she gave me confidence. She gave me friendship. With all my struggles and hang-ups. My quirks and my defenses. She never questioned if I was justified in feeling what I did. She didn’t chastise me for not being able to move on.

  I can’t pretend to know what happened in her home. Just as she can’t know what transpired in mine. “Why? I don’t understand.” The words slip from my mouth before I can stop them. I don’t want to know. I don’t need to know. I need to get her to her mom and be on my way.

  When we become the judge of another, we become a hypocrite. We want our mistakes, our transgressions forgiven. People do heinous t
hings daily, we don’t have to agree, we don’t have to accept, but we don’t have to judge.

  Can I forgive her? I don’t know.

  Will it take time? I don’t know if I’ll live long enough.

  Will I somehow be her friend through this? Yes. It’s that simple. I wish someone had been my dad’s friend and not his enabler. I won’t dismiss everything she did, but I won’t give her any ammunition to keep hurting. Herself or others.

  “Come on,” I wait for her to walk with me to her front door.

  “What are you doing, Saylor?”

  “I’m being a friend. I’m going to go inside, fix coffee, make sure you and your mom eat. I’m going to take care of you until your dad can come home and do it. Then I’m going to tell him what a gift he is missing. After that, I don’t know, Emberlee. I’m going to be hurt for a while. I’ll be angry. I don’t know that you’ll ever have my forgiveness, but for now you have my comfort.”

  “I know why that boy loves you.” Her steps falter as she faces me. “And to answer your question of why I destroyed everything – I found a letter. Adriane isn’t like a sister . . . she could be my sister.” Her eyes meet the sidewalk in shame. “Nobody knows.”

  “And nobody will.” I draw a breath and share with her. “I have no clue how I’m going to prove to him I love him.”

  “But it’s my fault.”

  “Not all of it. I gave up. I didn’t fight for him, and if anyone deserves someone to battle for their love . . . it’s Deacon Douglas.”

  “Emberlee,” her mom calls from the porch. I hold her hand as we walk up the driveway, and I do everything I promised her.

  Still undefeated. Still clueless how I’m going to continue playing ball. Still not ready to walk away. I’ve got three games to come to terms with this decision . . . one week to say goodbye to my mistress – I remember carrying that round ball in my hand for days on end. Getting use to the feel of it until it became an extension of me. The stitching is what soothed me many nights of my youth; rubbing my thumb over the white cowhide and feeling the bumps under my thumb. I toss the ball up and watch as it spins and eventually lands in my glove. Over and over I do this, sort of my own memorial to a game that’s shaped me.