Single (Stockton Beavers #1)

by Collette West

  When life gets overwhelming, never lash out at those around you. Drive around. Crank up the music. Go for a walk. Words said in bitterness tend to leave a permanent mark. They're always the ones you wish you could take back.

  Happiness isn't one big concrete thing that once you find it, you'll have it forever. It's more of a collection of fleeting, yet perfect, moments. Eating ice cream under the stars on a summer night. Tramping through leaves on a crisp, autumn day. Catching a snowflake on your tongue and laughing when you do. Fame, success, money, power—none of them will give you what you need—that pure, uncomplicated sense of bliss—that allows you to be able to live with yourself and forgive yourself for the choices you've made.

  I put down Roberta's journal. I stayed up all night reading it. When she walked out of the kitchen, I didn't know what to do, what to think, what to say. Then my eyes fell on the blue and green butterflies floating across the cover, and I just had to find out what was inside. She thought by telling me she couldn't have children that I wouldn't want her anymore, but I can honestly say, after reading all of her warm, funny, heartfelt entries to the daughter she'll never have, I want her now more than ever.

  Her strength, her insight, her compassion—her soul—came pouring out onto these pages, and it tears me up to hear her call herself half a woman. She's a survivor, enduring the kind of hardship that would've broken the spirit of many. Yet here she is, still holding on, refusing to let go of that goodness inside of her.

  The doorbell rings, and Mom's wail immediately reaches every corner of the house. I raise my eyes to the ceiling as her panicked footsteps start pitter-pattering frantically overhead. I don't know who's at my door at seven o'clock in the morning, but it's probably someone I don't want her to encounter. I can only hope Roberta stops her before she makes it downstairs.

  The race is on as I sprint out of the kitchen. But when I catch a glimpse of who's standing on the porch, I groan. And my heart sinks even further when Mom comes bustling down the steps, making a beeline straight toward me.

  "Lukey! What's going on? Did your father forget his keys again?" she asks all in one breath.

  Her eyes are overly bright, signaling to me her brain is scrambling to make sense of things. Her cognition is never good first thing in the morning. Add in being startled out of a sound sleep, and I know there's no chance of hiding her condition. There couldn't be a worse time to invite this person in.

  I cradle Mom's face in both hands. "Ma, listen to me. It's not Dad… It's one of his friends."

  "His friend…?" she whispers. "He doesn't have any friends."

  "Yes, he does." Even in the midst of impending disaster, she gets me to smile in spite of myself. "You like this man. You told me so yourself."

  She scrunches up her nose. "I don't like men. They're loud and messy and…"

  "You like me well enough, don't ya?"

  Grasping my wrists, she lowers my hands from her face. "You're not a man, Lukey. You're my baby boy."

  I close my eyes, her remark affecting me on a much deeper level after learning what Roberta told me last night. "I know," I whisper. "Why don't you go upstairs and find Roberta? Can you do that for me?"

  "Who…? No, I wanna stay with you."

  But I don't have much time to contemplate where Roberta is right now and why she's not down here. "All right, just let me do all the talking, okay?"

  She nods. "Okay, Lukey."

  My fingers dance over the keys of the security panel as I punch in the code. I don't know how I'm going to explain this to him if things go south, but here goes nothing.

  Yet as soon as I open the door, Mom says in a hushed voice, "Wow… Would you look at that? There's a cowboy standing on our front porch! Where did he come from?"

  Landry glances from her to me with a sadness in his eyes I've never seen before. "So…it's true, then?"

  And just when I thought I'd escaped my nightmare, that terrible sensation of being buried alive at the bottom of that deep, dark well overwhelms me.

  My mouth goes dry, yet somehow I manage to utter, "You know?"

  "Your girlfriend told me."

  "Bobbie Jo?"

  His eyebrows shoot up, way above the rim of his hat. "Nah, I was talkin' 'bout your auction date—Heidi."

  I bump my head against the doorframe and Mom sneaks past me. "Where's your horse? Did you leave him in the backyard?"

  He sticks his fingers in the belt loops of his jeans and just stares at her for a moment. "Well, shucks, Carla. I'm really sorry you don't remember me."

  "Am I supposed to?" She scratches her head. "Who are you—the Lone Ranger or the Marlboro Man?"

  He doffs his hat and holds it over his heart. "It's Mike, Carla…Mike Landry. We had so many good times together, you and your husband, me and my wife."

  "Where is your wife?" she asks, looking around.

  Landry crumples his hat against his chest. "She…she died, Carla."

  "Oh, yeah? I think my husband left me for another woman," she replies matter-of-factly. "He's never home anymore. I don't know where he goes."

  He lays his hand on her shoulder. "Your husband's a good man, one of the best I ever met." He winks at me. "And his son ain't too bad either."

  "Landry! What are you doing here?" Roberta asks breathlessly. She stands in the doorway, amazed, still in the clothes she was in the night before. Her hair hasn't been combed. She has dark circles under her eyes. She's a mess. I'm a mess. Mom's a mess. From his perspective, this must look really, really bad.

  "I came to have a heart-to-heart with your new boyfriend here. Mind if I come in?" He steps in between us, his boots jangling as he walks. "Carla, the house looks great, just the same as I remember. It really is like comin' home again. I only wish I made time at the beginnin' of the season to come and see ya."

  Mom follows him in, and I exchange a worried glance with Roberta. "Is he just making small talk or does he really disapprove of—?"

  "Of course, he disapproves of us," she groans.

  "Yeah, but Heidi tipped him off, told him something was wrong with Mom. That's why he's here. To investigate. To see if it's true." I sigh. "And I'm afraid it didn't take him long to figure it out."

  She rests her hand on her lower back, trying to piece it together. "His daughter just went back to school, and with his son away at college, he'd never just up and leave her."

  "Well, he's here, isn't he?" I close the door and my mind jumps ahead, running through all the possible scenarios of what his showing up on my doorstep implies. Is he here to take Mom away from me, or is there some other reason behind his surprise visit?

  "Single, why don't you take a seat?" he commands, his deep baritone resonating with authority.

  My hackles immediately go up. Where does he get off, ordering me around in my own home? Reluctantly, I prop my hip on the armrest of the couch, half complying with his request. "It sounds like you're about to deliver some pretty bad news."

  "I'm afraid that I am." He grimaces. "That's why I came to tell you in person. Did old Rex happen to contact you last night?"

  I lean forward. "Yeah, about the September call-ups. Why?"

  Roberta jumps in. "He's going to New York, Landry. We've already discussed it. I've got everything under control here."

  "Yeah," he drawls. "Carla's burns healed up real nice, Bobbie Jo."

  And it's like he's the one putting the cover on the well now, blocking out even the tiniest speck of light. Right now, I'm about ready to do whatever it takes to get him to back off. "Landry, we shouldn't have lied to you," I blurt out. "But Bobbie Jo's not to blame. It was my idea to keep quiet about Mom's Alzheimer's, not hers."

  He broods as he painstakingly rolls up the sleeves of his plaid shirt, showing off the pitching arm that made him a household name. He's a guy who holds a lot of power over the direction of my life. How he decides to wield it will affect not just me, but the other two people sitting in this room.

  In his eyes, I'll always be a kid. He first met me when
I was playing with my Tonka trucks under the kitchen table. To him, I'll always have junior attached to the end of my name. He considers Mom to be one of his dear friends. If he feels like I'm in over my head, he's not going to rest until he eases his conscience about her living situation. But Roberta, he trusts. She's the only one who can sway him to my side.

  He kicks back his heels and studies me. "So…if you were to play in New York, Bobbie Jo's just supposed to live in Stockton with your mama…indefinitely?"

  I don't hesitate. I come right out and say what he needs to hear from me. "I don't want to play in New York."

  "You don't?"

  "Luke, shhhh." Roberta glares at me. "Landry, don't listen to him. Of course, he wants to play in New York."

  "No…" I reiterate, making it as plain as can be. "I don't."

  The corner of Landry's mouth twitches as he sits forward, swinging his hat between his knees. "Is that how you really feel, son?"

  "It is."

  Roberta sighs, shaking her head. "He's only saying that because he's afraid."

  "Afraid?" Landry chuckles at her while shooting me a sideways glance. "I didn't tell anybody I was comin' to Stockton. But I made it a point to fly in 'cause I wanted to be here in case Nichols tried anything. Though, I needn't have worried. Your boyfriend slew Goliath—literally. If that didn't prove he has the biggest pair of balls of anyone I know, I don't know what does." He turns back to her. "So tell me what's he so afraid of, Bobbie Jo?"

  "You!" She throws up her hands.

  He looks at me in disbelief. "Me?"

  "Yes, you!" she huffs. "Of you, sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. Landry, I know you mean well, but you can't go around dictating how other people should live their lives. Luke doesn't want to put his mom in a nursing home. And until the time comes when he absolutely has to, I support him one hundred percent."

  My eyes flash to her agitated profile. When exactly was she going to tell me this? She never mentioned that one day her assistance might not be enough.

  Landry, thoroughly chagrined, crosses his arms and says nothing.

  "And another thing," Roberta goes on. "So what if Luke and I are dating? It shouldn't matter to you. You're not my boss anymore."

  "Yeah, but I'm his," he says in response, getting more of a rise out of her.

  "But that doesn't give you the right to—"

  "Bobbie Jo." Landry halts her right there. "I'm not here about that. I'm here to tell Single that the Heimlichs wanna call up Rob Reardon, instead of him."

  I blink, trying to take in what he just said.

  He rests his hand on my back. "My sincerest apologies, Single. Rex spoke outta turn. Last night, over a few beers in the hotel bar, he was tellin' me what you did to Nichols like he couldn't believe it. I guess he didn't think you had it in you. But I knew. I knew it all along. I mentioned that you were on the list of names the Heimlichs were considerin', but I made it perfectly clear to him that things were still up in the air, nuthin' was final yet. But Rexy was feelin' guilty over how rotten he treated you all season, and he's never been one to hold his liquor. This morning when he told me he'd texted you about it as a way of makin' amends, I came right over." He grips my shoulder. "The Heimlichs are pretty sure the Kings are gonna make the play-offs, and they want Rob to get some postseason experience under his belt. As you know, they're groomin' him to be their up-and-comin' star." Landry sighs. "But, Single, I want you to know that I fought for you. I really did. I hope it goes without sayin' that I couldn't disagree more with the Heimlichs' decision."

  "Oh, Luke," Roberta moans, her anger instantly receding as she pushes Landry aside and throws her arms around me. "This is so unfair. You deserve it more than anyone on that team."

  "It's okay," I mumble through her hair. "I'm actually kinda relieved."

  She steps back from me. "Please don't say that."

  "Single…" Landry intervenes. "I know how much it meant to your dad, and now you gettin' so close after all that you've been through… I'm tellin' ya, it breaks my heart."

  "Don't be silly." I wave them off. "There are things a whole lot worse that can break my heart, and trust me, this isn't one of them."

  Roberta's eyes find mine. Her gaze is troubled, automatically assuming that I'm referring to what she told me last night. But she couldn't be more wrong. I just can't talk about it in front of Landry.

  "Well," Landry coughs, seeing the way we're staring at each other. "Last night's sellout topped the season attendance mark the Heimlichs set for me, which means they extended my ownership agreement for three more years. And I promise ya, Single, you'll have a place in the Beavers' organization for as long as I'm a part of it."

  I extend my hand to him. "Thanks, man."

  He shakes it warmly. "About your mom…" He casts a glance to where she's rocking in place on the couch. "You're in good hands with Bobbie Jo. She's the best."

  "She certainly is," I say, unable to wrest my eyes away from her.

  She blushes, looking down at her hands. "So, that's it?" she asks.

  "That's it," Landry responds.

  She hands him his hat. "So, you'll be leaving, then?"

  "And here I thought you'd wanna hear all about my date with Ruby," he teases.

  "I thought it wasn't a date?"

  "That night wasn't…but the time after that, and the time after that…"

  She covers her ears as his eyes twinkle down at her. "All right, enough! I get the picture."

  "She sure got this ol' cowboy to loosen up. I tried to take charge of her cancer treatments, and she soundly put me in my place," he chuckles.

  But Roberta doesn't. "She's still receiving chemo?"

  "Nah, scratch that," he says, placing his hat atop his head. "What I should've said was her follow-up care. She's been cancer-free for a little over a month."

  Now that's a risky relationship if I ever heard one, and it only makes me admire the guy even more. Not because Danny thinks he's the G.O.A.T. but because his wife, the mother of his children, died of cancer, and now he's dating a woman who's on the road to recovery. But he's not afraid. He's going for it. And I find that inspiring.

  Landry grins broadly. "She's actually at the hotel, waitin' for me to get back."

  Roberta punches his arm. "You're telling me you brought her to Stockton and you didn't even bring her over here with you?"

  "I really wasn't here on a social call, Bobbie Jo," he mutters.

  She stabs the number nine button on the security box before throwing open the door. "Well, get out, then."

  And we both burst out laughing.

  "You've got a live wire there, Single. You sure you can handle her?"

  "I'm pretty sure I'm up for the challenge, considering the alternative."

  He cocks an eyebrow at me. "And that's…?"

  "Heidi Foster."

  He guffaws as Roberta glowers at me. "I've already told my assistant not to accept any more calls from her. That girl is straight-up crazy."

  "Yeah, thanks for setting me up with her," I deadpan.

  He touches the brim of his hat. "I owe you and Bobbie Jo a night on the town for that one. On my dime, wherever you wanna go, just name it."

  I smile at him. "I'll be in touch."

  "Don't I get a say in any of this?" Roberta speaks up.

  "No," we respond in unison, laughing.

  Roberta places her hands on Landry's back and playfully shoves him out the door. "And don't come back."

  "Oh, I will," he calls over his shoulder. "You can be sure of it. Hey, wait a minute. Since you're datin' Single now, does that make you…Bobbie Jo Beaver?"

  And she promptly slams the door in his face.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Roberta

  I rest my back against the door, my eyes trained on Luke's face. "So you get to stay with the Beavers…and you're really okay with that?"

  He strides up to me, taking my hand and raising it to his lips. When he kisses it, a delightful tingle races through m
e as his eyes burn into mine. "I don't need to play in the big leagues in order to validate my career."

  I frown. Great. He thinks I'm disappointed in him. But that couldn't be further from the truth. I'm disappointed for him and how the breaks never seem to go his way. He's talented, dedicated, with the heart of a champion. I just want to see him get rewarded for that.

  I squeeze his hand. "Luke, I just want you to know that I'm so proud of you. What you've accomplished this season? The comeback you made? No one else could've done what you've done."

  His eyes sparkle at me. "Well, it wouldn't have been possible without one very important thing…"

  I hold my breath.

  "You."

  I crumple in on myself, pressing my shoulder against the door. "Luke, don't say things like that."

  He rests his shoulder next to mine so I can't hide my face from him. "Why? It's true. I couldn't have done it without you. You're the glue that held me together."

  "But when you heard last night that you'd made the Kings, the first thing that had to go through your mind was that one day you'd tell your kids about it." I close my eyes and whisper, "Please…don't deny it."

  He sighs, "That's what you don't understand. One day, I am gonna tell my kids about it."

  He shoves away from the door and leaves me standing there, and my heart aches as it's never ached before. When I told him I couldn't have children, I knew there was a very real possibility I could lose him. What man doesn't want kids of his own? But to hear him talk about it so casually hurts way more than I thought it would.

  However, when he runs out of the living room and into the kitchen, screaming, "Ma! Where are you? Ma!" I know something's terribly wrong.

  I clutch my throat. "She's not in there?"

  "No!"

  "Where could she possibly have gone?"

  He grips his forehead. "The alarm was disabled for a few moments when we let Landry out. She must've slipped out the back door."

  "Oh my God," I whisper as he enters the code and rushes into the backyard.

  Following him, my mind begins to race. She couldn't have gotten far. How long were we talking in the foyer? Five…ten minutes, tops? I should call the police. I should…