by Felicia Lynn
Being as vague as possible, I tell her, “Charlotte is someone I value a great deal in my personal life. But right now, my focus is one hundred percent on the field and working with my teammates to make a successful season end. As I've said before, baseball owns my heart. I don’t have a lot of space or time in my life for anything beyond that.”
The devious grin on her face grows. “College women everywhere will breathe a sigh of relief and cheer that baseball’s most eligible bachelor and top five MLB draft prospect, claims to remain single and hasn't been swept off his feet. It'll happen eventually, Ty. I sure hope I'm still around to report the news when it happens.” Her laugh is a little too bold following her comment. It leaves me feeling a bit uneasy with her assumptions that she actually knows something legit and is trying to get me to fold and tell-all. Not happening. I don’t kiss and tell.
Returning the laugh with a side of my own evil, I reply. “Don't hold your breath on that, Jessica. I don't see that in my future. The only long-term commitment anyone will see in my future is with this sport. Have a nice day, ma’am,” I say as I turn and speed walk to my truck. I start it and get the hell out of there as fast as I can to head home for my ordered rest and breather.
“Four hours. Are we kidding? That was torture,” I complain to Morgan as we walk to her car from the spa we’ve been at for far longer than I thought was reasonable. Now here I am, all dolled up. My hair is styled just the way my mother wanted it and the same with my makeup. Hanging in the back of Morgan’s car is the garment bag with the dress I’ve been told to wear tonight. Ugh.
“That was a glorious day, Char. You’re so bitter. I don’t think you could figure out how to relax if a manual was written just for you. Your mom may be crazy, but her pampering game is strong, and I totally approve.” Morgan probably should have been Sandra Baker’s daughter. Clearly, she’s a better fit.
“Whatever. I can definitely relax under different circumstances, and you know it.” I glance her way, extra annoyed with her exuberant cheerfulness and constant praising of my mother today. Morgan’s been acting a little bitchy since the car ride this afternoon. She’s perfectly happy with me when I do exactly what she thinks is best, but if I stray from that at all, she can be very catty. I’m used to it, but her little digs do hurt more than I show or care to admit.
I’ve been in a terrible mood all day today. I’m frustrated I’m not at Children’s Hospital setting up for Maisey Taylor’s ninth birthday party and celebrating the PET scan results that indicated she’s still cancer-free. On top of that, I have a paper due soon that I’d much prefer to fine tune. Then the obvious fact that I look like a pageant queen with caked-on layers of makeup and stiff, crunchy hair from all the product they used.
I haven’t seen Ty in two days, which also isn’t helping. Between his practice schedule and my classes, study sessions, sorority meeting, and working on my paper, there’s been no time. He’s asked every day for just a few minutes, and it killed me to tell him there weren’t any. Our call this morning was brief, and I haven’t text him since because the day just seemed to slip away from me.
Now, we’re headed to the convention center where we’ll have just a few minutes to change and take a breath before the party starts and my father announces what everyone in the country already knows. The media will be swarming tonight. The campaign manager prepped us all on how to answer questions from the press, but I’m hoping they won’t ask me anything. I’m already sick of the hoopla, and it’s just starting.
More lies.
When my father is announced with his perfect family, we walk into the packed ballroom to loud applause, camera flashes, and bright lights. The pace we take behind my father walking into the mass of people is very slow. Shaking hands and smiling, I lie confirming over and over to the strangers how proud I am of ‘my daddy.’
Thankfully, I approved of the dress my mother’s stylist had selected for me. It’s a navy blue fitted lace dress with three-quarter sleeves and a scalloped hem to my knees. It’s actually quite perfect, and something I’d gladly wear again, but my mother was not as thrilled. To her disappointment, it looked a lot better on the model than it does on me, but she and I both know I’ll never meet her standards.
We finally reach the stage with a couple of dozen people standing in front of the chairs to applaud my father’s arrival. Behind the podium just to the left are three empty chairs reserved for us. The stage lights are blinding as we stand on stage unspeaking, smiling to the crowd and waving. My face physically hurts from this fake smile, and we’ve only been in the room less than thirty minutes. Please, for the love of God, I hope this night goes by quickly.
The speeches are over, and we’re mingling around the room. Countdown to leave—two more hours. Morgan has stayed close to my mother’s side in an effort to be a buffer between the two of us, but I hate it because now I have no escape person.
I passively stand at my mother’s side in the semi-circle that’s formed around her. I attempt to avoid engaging in the conversation she’s having with Morgan, her mother, and a few others while just nodding and smiling at the appropriate times. Morgan glances over at me, and I see a slight twitch before her gaze moves just over my left shoulder. Not wanting to bring obvious attention to look back to see what’s caught her attention, I wait hoping to see a hint in her demeanor.
I feel a hand ever so lightly placed on my waist. “You look beautiful tonight, buttercup.” My cheeks warm at hearing his voice and a real smile full of genuine delight replaces the rehearsed one. I turn, wrapping my arms around his shoulders for an embrace. He kisses me lightly on the cheek, and I struggle to restrain the pull toward his lips before remembering we’re in the presence of my mother. And given the hushed whispers from behind me, they’re all watching.
I want to stay in his arms and ask him a million questions, but instead, I turn and make polite introductions starting with my mother, whom I confirm was most certainly witnessing the moment and is now looking ever so unhappy about it.
Ty, dressed like he’s stepped off a GQ billboard, is very easy on the eyes and immediately attracts the attention of many in the room. He flawlessly handles the introductions and embraces the attention of those around us making it evident he’s well versed in social decorum.
Our fingers are laced together which would normally bring me a lot of comfort, but under the voyeuristic eyes of those around us, I feel awkward. It’s not until my father approaches us that I attempt to pull my hand from his discreetly, but he holds it a little tighter instead.
“Hello, Governor, nice to finally meet you. Your daughter speaks so highly of you.” He reaches out with his right hand, still holding firm to me with his left. “Congratulations, sir, I wish you the best of luck. Thank you so much for inviting me tonight,” he says, showing no signs of my father’s power intimidating him.
“Thank you very much, young man. I’ve heard quite a lot of great things about you as well. Unfortunately, just not from my daughter.” My father’s eyes briefly stray to me. “Exceptional news from ESPN this morning. You have the support of our glorious state behind you. We know you’ll make us proud. I’ll be watching on draft day. ”
I have absolutely zero clue what they’re talking about, and it frustrates me a little, even though I can’t show it now or even relieve the frustrations by asking for an explanation. My father holds out his hand for my mother to take, excusing them as he tells the group he has someone he’d like to introduce her to. Ty smartly takes the cue and does the same for us walking casually to escort me in the opposite direction of my parents.
We leave, and his pace abruptly transitions to almost a jog that’s challenging to follow with any level of grace in new three-inch, peep-toe heels. He pulls us down a long hall and into an unlocked conference room. The room is empty and dark until he flips a switch on the wall and turns the lock on the handle.
His lips crash locking to mine as he walks me backward until the cheeks of my bottom are on the table. Overt
aken by sensations, my mouth opens accepting him. Our tongues dance in sync. Our bodies communicate our feelings and send bold, nonverbal messages to our brains, only his messages to me are better received in my heart.
We separate after a while for a breath; although it could have just been a couple of lengthy minutes, I sigh at the loss of his mouth consuming mine. My hand goes to his cheek. His eyes are soft looking into mine. I’ve missed him so much, and it’s only been a couple of days. I don’t think I realized exactly how much I’ve missed him until now or the depths he’s made me crave him. He’s made me need him in a bigger way than I ever imagined possible.
“What are you doing here, hotshot?” I ask, confused why he’s not at the dinner meeting with his advisor.
His face hardens a bit. “I was invited. Not by the person I wanted to escort, but I couldn’t stay away from you any longer. I’ve missed you so much, buttercup. New rule, two days is too long. We’ll have to figure out together what the max limit is, but it’s definitely NOT going to be two days.”
I smile, thankful he feels the same. “Agreed.” I kiss him softly. “So … good news?” I ask, filled with pride without even knowing what it is.
He fleetingly brushes his lips across mine. “I’ll tell you about it on the ride home; it’ll serve as a great distraction so I can drive instead of doing dirty things to you in this dress.” He pulls away, situating my dress and then himself as he takes my hand to walk toward the door.
“Ty, I came with Morgan. I’ll have to drive back with her. Plus all my stuff is in her car, and I have class in the morning and a party in the afternoon at the Children’s Hospital.”
He stiffens. “Are you going to invite me to that one or should I start making plans to call others to impose an invite?” he asks. Guilt floods through me seeing he’s hurt by my attempt to keep him from this life. He’s a light in my world outside of the darkness from this environment. My intentions of keeping the two separate were clearly misunderstood.
“I hate these things. I hate that I have to be here. I’m sorry I didn’t invite you, but I only thought I was protecting you from this for your own benefit. I would love you to come to the party at the hospital, though. The children will be so excited to meet a hotshot baseball boy.” I wink at him.
He growls, “man,” before attacking me with his mouth and wandering hands lifting the hem of my dress to plunder.
I know I’ve kept her away from the party longer than I should have, but I couldn’t take a second longer of not feeling her. Her touch calms me. I needed a lot more time than what I just stole, but her parents have a hold on her I don’t quite understand, and I don’t need them angered by our escape enough to work against us. I suspect her best friend had already accepted that task anyway from the evil stare she was shooting at me every chance she got when I arrived.
“We’ll get your things from Morgan’s car before she leaves, but I really want you to stay with me tonight. I promise to wake you up in plenty of time for class. We can even stop by your house on the way home and grab your clothes and car if that would make you feel better.” In my head, there’s no other option, and I want to lay the cards on the table and tell her how it’s going to be, but Charlie is thoughtful and a planner. I know that wouldn’t go over well with her, and I want her to be happy. I’m a worker, not afraid to fight for what I want, but with her, I’m learning to allow some adjustment and exceptions.
Her smile is worth the reward. “Okay, Ty. We’ll stop by the house on the way back, and then I’ll spend the night tangled in bed with you wearing one of your shirts.”
“Actually, sweet cheeks, you’ll be naked, but that’s a minor detail.”
The ride home almost killed me with her in that dress and my hand climbing higher and higher on her thigh the closer we got toward the exit. I almost demanded a change in plans and took her straight back to my house not caring about her car or an overnight bag. But when I vocalized that thought, she reminded me that we’d lose our morning shower time together, and that was a non-negotiable loss for me.
The meet-the-parents was successful for the most part, I guess. Not that I have much experience with it since it was a first for me, but her dad seemed fairly accepting and excited about the possibility. Mommy Dearest might not share her husband’s opinions, but she won’t challenge them either. That woman is malevolent.
I didn’t bother to hide my enmity toward her when she whispered a hateful comment on Charlie’s appearance after we returned from the kid-mapping adventure. I’m sure it wasn’t her plan for me to hear it, but there’s not much I won’t hear pertaining to Charlie. I’m hypersensitive to her every movement, but especially where her mother is concerned as I know what she’s capable of.
She wasn’t quite sure what to do with me when she realized I’d overheard the hushed comment meant only for her daughter. But I won’t stand quiet and allow her abuse and be an unparticipating advocate. Charlie barely flinched at the comment, showing that she’s accustomed to the abusive remarks. She didn’t respond to her mother, just slightly adjusted her cheek in the other direction and continued to somehow smile.
“The least you could have done was stop to touch up your makeup before coming back in the ballroom making it evident you were whoring yourself around in a public place. I won’t be surprised if you call me begging for help to get an abortion next week with your slutty behavior.”
After the day I’ve had, I’m not sure how I was able to retain the fake grin on my face as I responded to the woman, equally as quiet for Charlie’s benefit, not Mommy Dearest’s, defending my girl.
“Sandra, your daughter is the most beautiful woman in this room. There’s not a man here that would fault or judge me for having kissed every bit of lipstick off her sweet lips. And let’s be honest for a second, I’m not such a bad catch either. What you need to attempt to remember is that I’m completely head over heels for Charlotte, and I would do anything to keep anyone from hurting her. I hope you’ll remember that because you’re powerless where I’m concerned. You have nothing on me, but I have a whole fucking lot on you. Last time I checked, my network of followers on social media is about two million stronger than that of your husband’s and after the draft in a few weeks, it’ll grow. Be careful.”
She got the message loud and clear. With the exception of saying good night before we left, she kept her distance from both Charlie and me, mostly because we were inseparable and I wasn’t letting her dig her claws into her daughter on my watch. Charlie wasn’t as happy with me for stepping in, but I easily explained why I had no choice when we had a few minutes alone to refresh our drinks. I even gave her some details and insight into my past, something I’ve not done with anyone.
I was worried for a second that she’d be repelled by my admission, but she wasn’t. She just said, “Everyone has something to teach them to find their strength. You’re stronger than anyone I know, and I’m proud of you,” before softly kissing me.
She was anxious to shower, complaining about her stiff hair and pounds of makeup on her face. I invited myself to join her, but she shot that down explaining she’d never get her hair and face cleaned before the shower ran cold with me in there. She’s probably right, but now, I’m sitting on the bed waiting for her with my iPad researching tankless hot water heaters.
After the day we’ve both had and two days of being apart, the outlook for the rest of tonight and tomorrow morning looks so much more promising.
It feels a little weird to be in Ty’s home when he’s not here, but he had to leave earlier than he expected for a breakfast meeting at George’s with his advisor and the head coach. I was only a little disappointed that I couldn’t tag along. I haven’t been to George’s in four days, but I’ll fix that today or tomorrow. I need some home-cooked comfort food.
I reach for my cell phone where it’s charging on the nightstand to check for messages from the hotshot himself with a picture of his breakfast plate since he already told me he’s ordering biscuits a
nd gravy, which is my favorite too. George Taylor makes the best sausage gravy in the world, well at least that I’ve ever tasted, but I have enough confidence in his abilities to bet on the ‘world’s best’ title anyway.
My chest tightens when I see my mother’s name on the notifications above Ty’s. I’m almost scared to see what she wants after the head to head with Ty last night at the party. I’d hoped he couldn’t hear what she was saying, but when I felt a tremor in my hand holding his and knew it wasn’t from me, I realized he had. I prayed to myself quietly that he’d forget it and not engage her, but in my heart, I knew that was a fleeting wish. He’s been very vocal about the viciousness of my mother’s comments.
Against my better judgment, I open the message. There’s a link to an article from the newspaper. Not the local small town paper, the major citywide publication.
Headline:
Baseball’s most eligible bachelor and predicted top five MLB draft prospect confirms he's still single.
*** Link attached ***
MOTHER: I don't know if I should be shocked, disappointed, or concerned at your attempts to discredit your father by making a mockery of his character by being associated with you. How does it feel to have the tables turned on you? You stood beside him, proving to be as weak as I knew you were, and said nothing when he spoke to me disrespectfully. You thought you’d hit the jackpot with him and his future but looks like it was all just a show. You played right into his hand by giving up your virtue and spreading your legs, like the slut you are, every time he snaps his fingers. You’re very lucky our reputation is strong enough to keep that out of the paper after he made that little admission to another reporter. Now that he’s publicly denied your connection to him, and you’ve alienated your family with your reputation and disrespect, I hope this will be the lesson you needed to make you see the light of day. One day, you’ll regret being the ungrateful daughter you are. Probably sooner than you’ll expect when you realize you’re all alone now. You're finally getting what you deserve.