“What was that for?” I exclaim, breathlessly. “You said there’s no tackling!”
Drew gets up and offers me a hand, hysterically laughing. “Did you think I was just going to let you score that easily?”
I brush his hand away and stand up unassisted. I fist his shirt, pulling him towards me, and press up on my tiptoes so that we’re nose to nose. “Do that again and I can tell you who won’t be scoring outside of this game anytime soon,” I warn and then forcefully push him away.
“Talk about fighting dirty.”
Drew behaves himself the rest of the game, and I have to admit that I’m enjoying our new Thanksgiving tradition. Having each scored a few times, and run several laps up and down the field, the kids are exhausted. Maddie makes the last touchdown. Colin and Aubrey run and lift her up as she chucks the football backwards over her head, causing it to roll down an embankment to where the driveway pavement meets the yard near a tree. I run to grab it so that it doesn’t roll down into the road. I bend over to pick it up and flinch when my fingers brush against a half-smoked cigar that’s still burning. I step back cautiously and look around the surrounding area, suddenly feeling as if I’m being watched.
“Guess I forgot to put that out,” Agent Spencer says, walking up behind me.
I smile faintly, feeling slightly on edge.
“Mom!” Maddie shrieks excitedly as she runs towards me, latching onto my leg. “Noni has warm apple cider!”
Not wanting my active imagination to interfere with today, I shake off the unease and go inside to clean up.
“Breanne, dear. Can you go into the hutch and grab the dishes.”
“Of course.”
I head into the dining room and take out ten dishes. Carefully setting them out, I notice I have one too many. As I set it back inside the hutch, a beautiful turkey shaped basket filled with paper catches my eye. Taking it out, I read several individual notes that say things such as family, baseball, warm weather, and 1-4-3. Just then Nancy walks into the room, setting a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table. She walks over to me and takes a piece of paper from the basket and bursts into tears.
“Nancy, what’s wrong?” I ask, setting the basket on the hutch.
She shakes her head, trying to get herself together. I rub her arm, attempting to console her and after what feels like an eternity she speaks.
“This was a tradition that Alexis started–writing down all the things we’re thankful for each year. These,” she says picking up a handful from the basket, “were the constants. All the others she took out and put somewhere else.”
I smile warmly. “I bet she’d love for it to continue.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Can we help?”
Nancy and I turn to see Colin and Aubrey standing in the doorway, holding hands.
Nodding eagerly, Nancy covers her mouth to muffle a sob. Colin runs off, returning a few moments later with paper and a pen. Drew, Paul and Maddie join us shortly after and we all silently sit at the table, writing our thanks.
“Now we read what we’re thankful for and put the notes in the basket.” She walks over to Colin and holds the basket in front of him. “I think Alexis would want you to go first.”
Colin smiles and politely pushes the basket away. “Can we try something different?”
I observe Nancy nervously as her apprehension breaks into a grin. “What do you have in mind?”
“We need a bag and the balloons.”
Colin explains his idea and I’m floored. I can’t believe he remembers this. Nancy collects the bag and we all dump our notes inside. Once outside, Colin closes it and ties it to the string, securing the bag to the balloons. I’m floored. My seven-year-old son has the maturity of a grown man; I couldn’t be prouder. Standing there, I watch him take control of what could have been a depressing moment and turn it into something special.
“The weather’s perfect for this, Colin,” Paul observes, looking up to the sky. “And so is your idea.”
“You sure you don’t want to put anything in the bag for your father?” Nancy offers.
“We’re sure,” Colin replies.
Nancy smiles and kisses him on the forehead. He then hands his masterpiece to her and steps back, letting Nancy have her moment.
“Where’d he come up with this?” Drew whispers in my ear.
“After my mom passed away, my dad and I went to a psychologist. I think it was too hard for him, because it only lasted about three visits. Anyway, this was one of the activities she suggested to help me feel like I still had a connection to my mom, and perhaps bring closure. I don’t know why, but it worked for me. I must have written her a hundred letters over the years,” I admit. “When Mark died and the kids were having a hard time, I had them do the same thing.”
“Did it help?”
“For Colin it did. I’m not sure either of the girls would remember; they were really young. We only did it once so I’m surprised he remembered.”
Drew rubs my arm. “I’m glad he did.”
“I wish I had known your sister.”
“Me too.”
Drew kisses my forehead before going to his mother, and together, the three Scott’s release the balloons, and perhaps some of their grief, as they send their love to Alexis in heaven. Standing in a circle, we hold each other, watching until the balloons can no longer be seen.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Alexis. We miss you so much.”
The breaking of Nancy’s voice draws tears of my own. The fact that Alexis didn’t even know me, yet tried to warn me of some unknown threat, affects me in ways I didn’t fully grasp until now. Because of that, taking part in this moment of remembrance is both profound and fitting.
“I’m starving,” Maddie dramatically grumbles, breaking the silence. Thankfully, Paul and Nancy laugh.
“Then by all means, let’s eat.” Drew scoops up Maddie and leads us inside.
TEN
Read Between the Lines
“As much as I enjoy being alone with you, why are we here? You’re exhausted.”
“I wanted to show you around,” I tell her.
I reach across the table and take her hand in mine, rubbing small circles on her hands. The warm atmosphere of the bistro and the sensation of her skin on mine are so soothing it practically lulls me to sleep.
“It’s a lovely town, Drew,” she says leaning forward. “But if I see you nod off one more time, I’ll head over to that gazebo across the street and spin in a circle so we can call it a day. You should be in bed.”
“Always trying to have your way with me,” I muse.
“Please. You’d fall asleep before my clothes were off, you’re so tired.”
“Wanna bet?”
Breanne rolls her eyes and leans back, giving me an unobstructed view of her chest. I unintentionally zone out, earning me a kick under the table.
What does she expect from me?
Instead of shooting daggers at me, she’s staring off in the distance. I follow her gaze towards the window where Everett stands guard. I’d say he’s trying to blend in, but that really isn’t possible in a small town like this.
“He’s in almost as bad of shape as you. Why hasn’t Spencer stepped in to give him a break? I mean, did the FBI even offer him a vacation or anything after what you guys went through?”
“They did, but he wouldn’t take it.”
“Oh.”
Judging by her tone, I can tell she gets it. Not that he’ll talk about it, but I know Everett feels responsible for what happened to us, and he’s also having a tough time accepting the loss of his partner. I’m struggling with that too. O’Conner may have had a gruff exterior, but he had a heart of gold. The man took his job seriously, and that means that he lost his life because of me.
What’s equally as troubling is that I can’t shake the feeling that I know information that could help end this bullshit, except the answers are locked away in a part of my memory where I might never get acces
s. My inability to remember what took place at Alexis’s house is causing this situation to continue. By default, Breanne’s life is just as much at risk as O’Conner’s was and that scares me more than anything.
I can’t lose her.
I glance at Breanne who’s still watching Everett. “I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to it than just wanting to protect you.”
“Like what?”
“Like maybe he doesn’t trust Spencer. What the hell has he been doing anyway? He’s here, yet we barely see him.”
“What makes you think Everett doesn’t trust him?” I ask. My eyes rest on hers as she formulates a response.
“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I get.”
“Do you trust him?”
“Maybe.” She pauses and begins twirling her necklace. “Not really. I keep thinking back to that night when I saw someone in the back yard. Spencer was outside keeping watch. It took him awhile to make his way to the backyard, longer than it should have, and the person didn’t leave right away, even after Corinne was by my side. Spencer didn’t show up until after the person was gone. It could be my imagination, but neither Spencer nor the other guy seemed to be in a hurry.”
“What else?” I can tell by the way she’s chewing on her bottom lip that there’s more to her suspicions.
“At the end of the game yesterday I chased after the ball as it started rolling down the hill. When I went to pick it up I burned my finger on a lit cigar. Spencer scared the shit out of me, and apologized for not putting it out…”
“But,” I urge her to continue.
“I can’t remember seeing him down that way and the cigar was barely smoked.”
“Meaning it was recently lit.”
She nods. “I’m probably over thinking this, but I don’t want any of us to be alone with him.”
“Well since Everett won’t be leaving my side, and you’re either with us, or Corinne and the kids, we’ll be fine.”
“If the five of us could be together all the time, it’d be perfect,” Breanne says. “We’d only need the two of them.”
“Speaking of the two of them, did you hear Everett call her Corinne instead of Jackson this morning?”
“No. I imagine it didn’t go well.”
“Yeah, apparently you are the only one who she allows to call her by her first name.”
“You call her Corinne,” Breanne retorts.
“Not to her face. If I have, it’s been tolerated. I highly doubt Everett will make that mistake again.”
While I’m doing my best to distract Breanne from stressing over Spencer, in the back of my mind I’m planning on telling Patterson to get her a different agent.
After lunch, Breanne and I spend an hour or so browsing the different shops, her favorites being The Cinnamon Stick, a gourmet gift shop, and The Wine Barrel, a new place that takes wood from old wine barrels and transforms them into tables, chairs and other rustic décor.
“Can we stop at the coffee shop?” she asks as we’re leaving Browsers.
“Sure.”
“Why don’t you two stay out here? Maybe the fresh air will invigorate you.”
I take a seat on one of the benches, intending to talk to Everett about Spencer once Breanne’s inside. I must have dozed off because Breanne’s back before I know it, handing us coffee.
“Ready to head back?” she ask.
I nod and take her hand. As we make our way to the car, my phone rings.
“Brett, what’s up?”
“Hey man, I’m glad I caught you. Can you talk because I have great news.”
“Yeah?”
“The Sox just faxed over a contract. They’re giving you a three-year extension for $21 million.”
“Fuck yeah!” I yell, earning me dirty looks from more than a few patrons.
I hand my cup to Everett and scoop Breanne up with my free hand, peppering her with kisses while I spin her around. She clings to me, giggling, and likely wondering what’s come over me.
“That’s great news, Brett. I’ll be back tomorrow night if signing the contract can wait until then.”
“Sounds good. Why don’t you and Breanne come for dinner and we do paperwork after?”
I agree and end the call. I set Breanne down and cup her face as she watches me with curious happiness. “What was that about?”
“My contract’s been renewed with Boston. We’re celebrating!”
Everett congratulates me and hands me back my coffee, which I chuck in the garbage. For the first time since I left for California, I feel energized.
We pull up to Steuben Brewing Company after hitting up several of the local wineries. One of the owners, who I’ve met before, and his wife welcome us as we walk up to the counter.
“What can I get for you?” the man asks.
I look to Breanne. “I don’t know, what do you recommend?” she asks.
“Are you looking for something light or dark?”
“Hmm, both?” she laughs. The man nods and tilts his head towards me.
“Same,” I tell him.
“Three tasting flights then?” he asks, placing three paddles, each with slots for four glasses, in front of us.
I look expectantly over at Everett who shakes his head no. While having a permanent designated driver has come in handy, I wish Everett could enjoy himself a little. After everything we’ve been through, we’ve definitely bonded and it would be nice to throw back a few drinks together.
“Just the two.”
We select our four beers and head to a table in front of floor to ceiling windows facing the lake. Breanne sips her Hopyard IPA and lets out the faintest moan. It still amazes me that every sound that comes out of her affects me so primitively.
“The view is beautiful, Drew. “
“Breathtaking,” I reply, staring at her. Breanne smirks at me over her shoulder and playfully rolls her eyes.
“See that field to the left?” I ask, pointing to a few acres of land.
“Which haystack am I looking at?”
I lightly hip check her. “All of it. Wouldn’t it be the perfect spot for a winery or a B&B?”
Breanne turns to me, misty-eyed. “You really were listening,” she whispers, referring to her rant in the woods when she mentioned that starting a winery one day was a dream of hers.
“Every word,” I wink and kiss her forehead.
“Thanks for bringing me here.”
“To the brewery?”
“I meant for bringing me to your hometown, but I love the beer too.”
“I want to share everything with you. Speaking of which,” I say, “now that I’m officially staying in Boston, we need to figure out our living situation. I can’t keep going back and forth between our places. And given everything that’s going on, I need us to be together where I can protect you all the time, not just from sunrise to midnight.”
“I want that too,” she agrees. “If we aren’t going to stay in Brookline, we’ll need to figure something out. I like the school district and I don’t want to put the burden of making new friends and starting a new school on them if we’re also leaving the only place they’ve ever lived.”
“Then we’ll stay in Brookline.”
“Really? It’s that simple, huh?”
“The only detail that matters is being under the same roof. The rest is up to you.”
“When do we start looking?”
“It’s funny you should ask. I actually have an appointment set up for us next week to meet with a realtor that Brett recommended. There are five houses in Brookline that I think we should look at.”
“I thought I got to pick?”
I smirk. “I wanted to give you something to work with. Besides, I already knew that you’d want a big yard, five bedrooms, a nice sized kitchen and a real fireplace. “
“You’re pretty confident about this,” she says.
“About us? Why wouldn’t I be?”
“About the requirements for my dream house. Yo
u didn’t even know you’d be in Boston.”
“Baby, it didn’t matter what team I signed with, you’re my home. And I know what you want,” I wink.
Breanne cocks her eyebrows and tilts her hand as a challenge.
“Did I miss something?”
“Yes, actually,” she protests.
I tilt my head to the side. “And what would that be?”
“The master bedroom needs to have a large en suite with a Jacuzzi tub, separate shower, and a dual vanity with lots of counter space.”
I lean forward taking her hand and press it to my lips. “That was a given.”
I place her hand on my thigh and watch her eyes pop open, clearly figuring out that my mind is about ten steps ahead of our conversation. I can’t stop picturing her pressed up against the glass walls of a shower, spread out on a counter and riding me in a tub that we don’t even have.
“I’m pretty sure they have a bathroom here.”
Breanne yanks her hand away and tosses back the rest of her beer. “Alright, Casanova, stop flashing those sexy dimples at me and show me the houses you found.”
Groaning, I take out my phone and pull up the site. Before it’s fully loaded, Breanne grabs my phone and scans over the houses I selected. The smile that spreads across her face is so big, I must have done good.
“That one,” she says, turning the phone towards me. “That’s the one.”
When we get back to my parent’s house it’s almost dinnertime. Maddie’s still napping, Aubrey’s helping my mom prepare food and Colin and my dad are watching a show on the history channel. Since everyone else is occupied, I tell Breanne to put sneakers on because we’re leaving tomorrow and there’s one more place I want to go.
“We’re only going about a quarter mile. No need for back up,” I tell Everett as we head outside.
Rundown (Curveball Book 2) Page 12