Love of the Game

by Lori Wilde

  It was a good place to grow up, a safe place full of love and caring and community. A long way from where Kasha had spent the first seven years of her life.

  Outside her parents’ home cars filled the driveway, spilled out onto the street. What were all the vehicles doing here? Were her gregarious parents throwing an impromptu party on a Thursday night?

  Sucking in her breath, and her courage, Kasha parked at the curb, drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, and studied the yellow Victorian with white gingerbread trim and a wide, welcoming veranda. The coat of paint was new. The house had been gray when she was growing up, with red trim. The metal roof was new too, her parents investing in it after one too many hailstorms. Poplar trees, tall, thin, and stately, flanked both sides of the house just inside the white picket fence. Underneath each front window was a flowerbox flush with pink and purple petunias.

  She did not remember the night she took refuge in this house; that dark night was forever buried in her damaged childhood psyche. But she did remember the day she walked up the sidewalk with Dan and Maggie Carlyle after the adoption was final, enveloped in the open arms and welcoming smiles of her new sisters.

  Knuckles rapped against the window, startling her. She jerked her head around to see her other brother-in-law, Jake Coronado, who was married to her oldest adoptive sister, Jodi, standing there holding a tote bag.

  Jake also played for the Gunslingers, and he currently had the highest batting average on the team. “How come you’re sitting out here all by your lonesome?”

  “How come you’re here at all? No game tonight?”

  “Travel day. We’re playing in Houston tomorrow, so instead of heading out with the team, I came home to spend time with Jodi. I’ll leave tonight after the party, and catch up with the team there.”

  “What party?” Kasha’s chances of getting her parents alone to tell them about Emma dimmed.

  “You’re not here for Trudy’s celebration?” he asked.

  “No, I just dropped by to see Mom and Dad. What’s Trudy celebrating?”

  Trudy was their next-door neighbor, a spunky, tattooed senior citizen who’d once been a Vegas showgirl, but she was now an artist with an appealing folk art style.

  “She’s having a gallery showing in New York.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Impressive, huh.”

  “Sure enough.” Kasha bobbed her head. “Is Rowdy here too?”

  “Naw, too much on his plate. He’s already in Houston with the team. But Breeanne’s inside.”

  Kasha opened the door and got out. “What’s in the bag?”

  “Jodi forgot the apple pie she made, and I had to circle back to the B&B to get it,” Jake said.

  “Pregnesia strikes again.” Kasha chuckled.

  “I had no idea pregnancy could make women so forgetful. But on the upside, when she gets mad at me, she forgets it quickly.” Jake grinned like a naughty schoolboy.

  “This too shall pass, and soon you’ll have an adorable baby to love and a wife with her elephant memory back.”

  “True,” Jake said. “I’m ready for both.”

  “Not the least bit nervous about tackling fatherhood?”

  “With Jodi as my partner, I’m not scared of anything.” Jake opened the door for Kasha. “She’s my heart and soul.”

  Okay, it did sound a bit sappy, but Jodi and Jake were amazing together, and Kasha might have been jealous if she weren’t so happy that her sister had found her great love.

  They walked through the front door together and headed for the kitchen. Jake called out, “I’m back, everyone, apple pie in hand, and look who I found lurking outside.”

  “Hi, honey!” Her mother wiped her hands on her apron and came over to give Kasha a vanilla-scented hug. “I’m glad you made it. I roasted a whole cauliflower for you. I found the recipe on the Internet. It got lots of five-star reviews.”

  Although her family members were steadfast carnivores, they honored her choice to go meatless. Her mother went out of her way to prepare tasty vegetarian meals for her, and Kasha appreciated the effort. Mom bustled around, pulling things from the oven.

  “What can I do to help?” Kasha offered.

  “Check to see if everyone has something to drink.” Mom turned the burner off under a pot of black-eyed peas.

  Jodi was sitting at the kitchen table drinking lemonade. Jake hurried over to drop a kiss on his wife’s forehead. Jodi wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled his head down for a proper kiss. Jake put his hand on her extended belly, and then they looked at each other as if they’d invented sex.

  Kasha turned away, feeling embarrassed for witnessing their private moment. She stepped out onto the back porch to check on the dozen or so guests gathered around her father, who was manning the barbecue grill. They all had drinks in their hands.

  “Anyone need a refresher on their drinks?” she called. Everyone shook their heads, so she stepped back inside as her mother was taking the roasted cauliflower from the oven.

  “How did you know I was coming over?” Kasha asked.

  “I left you a voice message,” Mom said. “Although I didn’t hear back from you, I knew you’d want to help Trudy celebrate her big success.”

  “I had my phone turned off while I was working with Axel Richmond,” Kasha explained. “And I forgot to check voice mail when I left his house. I didn’t even know about Trudy’s big news. I was dropping by for …” She didn’t want to say why she was really dropping by. Not now. Not in front of other people. “… a visit.”

  “How are things going with Axel?” Jake asked. “Richmond is pretty intense. He’s got his demons.”

  “No worries there,” Jodi said, resting her head against Jake’s shoulder. “At her old job, Kasha’s nickname was the Exorcist.”

  Kasha sat down across from Jake and Jodi. “Demons? What do you mean?”

  Jake shrugged like he wished he hadn’t opened his mouth.

  “Is there something I should know?” Kasha pushed, even though she normally wouldn’t have done so. She was not the type to stick her nose into other people’s business, but it was her job to help Axel get back on the mound.

  “Axel’s working through some personal stuff,” Jake mumbled.

  “You mean besides his injury?”

  Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t like talking about someone behind their backs.”

  “This isn’t gossip,” Kasha said. “My only concern is for Axel’s welfare. I am his therapist.”

  Jake shot Jodi a look, and she nodded. The corners of his mouth skewed, and he let out a reluctant noise. He scratched the top of his head. “It’s not a secret, anyone who follows baseball knows about it, but no one on the team discusses it. Out of respect.”

  “Respect for what?”

  “Dylan.”

  Chill bumps crawled up the nape of her neck. “The name Axel has tattooed on his chest.”

  “Yes. Dylan is … was … his son.”

  She’d suspected Axel was sensitive about the tattoo, and the angst in Jake’s eyes told her Dylan was no longer alive. “Dylan died?”

  “Yeah.”

  A tug of sympathy, hard and heavy, hit her low in the belly. No wonder Axel pushed himself so hard. It was his way of surviving grief. Her heart sank. “Oh no.”

  Jake nodded. “Over two years ago now.”

  “What happened?”

  “Some kind of rare cancer. Dylan was just eight years old.”

  Kasha’s knees weakened and she dropped down into a kitchen chair. She felt dizzy, unanchored by the news. “That’s awful.”

  “Axel’s never really bounced back from it.” Jake tapped his finger restlessly on the table.

  “How could you ever come back from something like that?” Jodi asked, and protectively rubbed her belly.

  Jake slipped his arm around Jodi’s shoulder and pulled her close. She rested her head on his chest, and a grateful smile tipped up her lips.

  Kasha
pushed aside the twinge of envy that pinched her. “Thank you for telling me, Jake. It does help to know what’s going on with Axel.”

  “Do be careful,” Jodi cautioned.

  “Careful about what?” Kasha canted her head.

  “Axel is easy to fall for.”

  Kasha blinked at her sister. “Why are you cautioning me about that?”

  Jodi shrugged. “He’s a good-looking guy. You’re single, he’s single …”

  “And I’m a professional who would never blow my career or reputation by crossing a line with a patient.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting that.” Jodi spread her palms out on the tablecloth. “We just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I won’t,” Kasha said, wondering how Jodi had guessed at her attraction to Axel.

  No mystery, she told herself. Axel was hot. He’d make most any available—and some who were not—woman’s womb wiggle.

  The back door opened and Suki came bouncing in.

  The youngest Carlyle sister was a live wire who instantly brightened any room she entered. Petite five-two, Korean by birth, thoroughly American in personality, and she loved stylish fashions. Today she had on a short beige macramé skirt and black V-neck tank top, and Roman sandals.

  “Dad needs more barbecue sauce,” Suki said.

  “Fridge,” Mom directed.

  “Hey, Stretch.” Suki wriggled her fingers at Kasha on the way past.

  “Hey, Short Stack.”

  “Kasha, could you take this platter of corn on the cob out to the picnic table?” Mom asked.

  “Sure.” Kasha carried the corn outside, mentally gauging her chances of getting her parents alone to tell them about Emma. Odds were against her.

  Table the discussion for another time. One more day wouldn’t make much difference. Enjoy the party. Go home. Get some sleep. Get up tomorrow, and go do her job. She was good at keeping her lips zipped.

  Too good, some might say.

  Dad came over with a pair of tongs in his hands to give her a peck on the cheek. “I put some portabella mushrooms on the grill for you.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” She hugged him hard.

  “You’re in a sweet mood. What’s up?”

  “Just happy to see you.” Her mind drifted back to Axel, and the knowledge he’d lost his young son. Life was so short and so precious. “I’m grateful to have you, and so glad you’re still here.”

  Dad gave her a sideways look. “Something troubling you?”

  Before she could tell him that she wanted to talk to him and Mom later, sixty-something Trudy, adorned in colorful tattoos and multiple piercings, sashayed up to them. Over the years, Trudy had been something of a surrogate, avant-garde grandmother to the Carlyle sisters, and she was like one of the family.

  “Did you hear my big news?” Trudy’s eyes sparkled.

  “I did. Congratulations, Trudy. You deserve this so much.”

  “I knew eventually my passion would pay off.” Trudy chuckled. “I got a new tattoo to celebrate. Wanna see?”

  To be polite, Kasha nodded.

  Trudy tugged the corner of her shirt down her right shoulder to reveal fresh ink that said: “Live passionately or not at all.”

  “It’s a statement,” Kasha said. One she didn’t agree with. She’d spent a lifetime squelching passion, because she knew how much damage it could do.

  “You’ve got to let go of the reins sometime,” Trudy said. “And just let yourself feel.”

  A bubble of resistance pressed up Kasha’s throat. She ironed on a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. Congrats again, Trudy.”

  “Thanks.” Trudy beamed.

  Kasha caught sight of her sister Breeanne sitting on a lawn chair by herself, underneath the elm tree where a tire swing used to hang when they were kids. Breeanne looked forlorn. Kasha grabbed a lawn chair and went over to sit beside her sister.

  Breeanne had been the first child their parents had adopted, even though she was younger than Kasha and Jodi. She had a heart condition that had been a constant part of family life when they were all growing up, but today, at twenty-seven, after multiple surgeries, Breeanne had made a full recovery.

  “Why you are sitting over here by your lonesome?” Kasha asked.

  Breeanne made a halfhearted attempt at a smile. “Just needed a little time to myself.”

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No. You’re the one person I do want to see. Just being around you calms me down.”

  “Is something wrong? Are you and Rowdy—”

  “Oh no, no. Rowdy and I are fine. In fact marriage is the most amazing thing.” Breeanne perked up. “I love him so much.”

  “I can see it on your face.”

  Breeanne reached over to pat Kasha’s hand. “I know you’re going to find your true love too.”

  Kasha shrugged. “I’m okay even if I don’t.”

  Breeanne’s mouth turned down and her eyes went sad. “Honestly?”

  “I don’t need a man in my life to be happy.”

  “Have you found a key to the hope chest yet?” Breeanne asked.

  “To tell you the truth, I haven’t been looking.”

  It might seem an odd question to some, but two years earlier, Breeanne had found an antique hope chest at an estate sale. It was an unusual trunk, possessing five individual compartments contained inside one wooden box, each compartment with its own lock. On top of the lid, a cryptic message had been carved.

  Kasha had it memorized because for the past year, ever since Jodi married Jake and she passed the hope chest on to her, it had been sitting in her living room functioning as a coffee table.

  Treasures are housed within, heart’s desires granted, but be careful where wishes are cast, for reckless dreams dared dreamed in the heat of passion will surely come to pass.

  Kasha didn’t have to worry about passionate wishes backfiring. She never did anything in the heat of passion. She knew firsthand just how destructive passion could be.

  The elderly woman who sold Breeanne the hope chest had told her that if she made a wish before she unlocked the compartments, her wish would surely come true. Romantic, Breeanne had fallen in love with the silly legend. The old woman had no keys for the trunk’s locks, but on a wish and a prayer that any skeleton key might work on a skeleton lock, Breeanne bought the hope chest.

  Breeanne, Jodi, Suki, and Kasha had gone through every skeleton key they could find in Timeless Treasures, and none of them worked. Oddly, neither of the two locksmiths in Stardust could open up the trunk without drilling into the locks. Nor could they adequately explain why they couldn’t unlock it.

  The hope chest sat unopened for several days after Breeanne bought it, until Suki came up with the idea of making skeleton key necklaces. Suki sold the necklaces in her online Etsy store to great success, and used up all the keys in the store. She’d put a sign in the window offering to buy skeleton keys for a dollar.

  The next day, a mysterious customer brought in a key that had fit the lock on the trunk’s fifth compartment.

  Taking the saying on the chest to heart, Breeanne had made a wish as she’d opened the compartment, asking for a boost in her writing career. Right after that, she’d gotten a call from the agent who’d snubbed her for over a year, telling her local sports hero Rowdy Blanton was looking for a ghostwriter from their area.

  Inside the compartment, Breeanne had found a smaller box with another cryptic saying etched into that lid, and when she opened the smaller box, Breeanne discovered a cheetah scarf that felt soft only to her and Rowdy. To everyone else, the scarf felt rough and scratchy.

  Breeanne took it as a sign that she and Rowdy were meant to be.

  Romantic, yes, but it didn’t really mean anything, at least not to Kasha’s way of thinking.

  But then Breeanne gave the trunk to Jodi after she and Rowdy married. Jodi found a skeleton key in an antique evening bag she’d borrowed from Timeless Treasures on the same night she met Jake while crashing a high-
society wedding.

  The key had fit the fourth compartment in the trunk, and when Jodi opened it, she’d found an exotic perfume that only she and Jake could smell.

  Still, Kasha remained unconvinced that the trunk had special wish-granting powers. In her mind, it was self-fulfilling prophecy, and nothing more. How could it be more than the power of suggestion? Her sisters had wanted to fall in love, so their minds had invented a fantasy to match what they found.

  Kasha wasn’t interested in searching for a key. The last thing she wanted was a passionate relationship. If she ever did get married—not that she was even thinking along those lines—it would be a sane, sensible agreement. Not some wild, ardent union based on overwrought emotions.

  Breeanne put a hand on Kasha’s knee. “You can’t give up on love.”

  “I haven’t given up because I was never looking for it in the first place.”

  Breeanne clucked her tongue. “Love is the most wonderful thing in the world.”

  Kasha shifted in her seat, and wished she hadn’t gotten into this conversation. “Forget me. What’s got you down in the mouth?”

  “I saw the doctor today—”

  “Is it your heart?” Kasha’s pulse jumped, and she wrapped a hand around Breeanne’s thin forearm.

  “No, no. I didn’t see my cardiologist.” Breeanne nibbled her bottom lip, and pushed a lock of long blond hair behind her ear.

  “Who?”

  A tear slipped down Breeanne’s cheek, then another, and another.

  What now? Kasha’s chest tightened. Felt helpless in the face of her sister’s tears. She dug around in her purse, found a tissue, pressed it into her sister’s hand. Awkwardly, she patted Breeanne’s shoulder. “There. There.”

  Breeanne swiped at her cheeks, but it didn’t staunch the flow of tears.

  Fear twined around Kasha’s throat. “What is it? You gotta tell me.”

  “Rowdy and I went to see a fertility specialist …” Breeanne paused. Hiccupped. “And the tests came back.” She hitched in a breath, closed her eyes. “Because of my longstanding health issues, and the medications I was on for so many years, I most likely won’t ever be able to have children of my own.”