I wasn’t sure what to say, so I silently pondered what he said for a moment. That sounded so unlike the Cole I knew, I didn’t even want to hear it. I knew it was probably true, because Cole had told me as much himself, but still…
“Listen, I’m kind of busy. What is it that you want, Camdyn?”
“I just want the name of your coach. That’s all, and then I’ll hang up.”
“Rick Wilson,” he said without hesitation. “Anything else?”
“No, thank you, Travis.”
He hung up without as much as a goodbye, but I didn’t care. He had given me what I needed, and it was a start.
Name in hand, I began calling the university. Each time I called I was directed to a different person, and every single one was a dead end. There was no coach there named Rick Wilson, and I couldn’t reach anyone who seemed very interested in helping me. After the sixth call, I began to think that Travis gave me the wrong name on purpose. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I believed that he would have never given me the correct name in the first place.
On call number seven, I reached an elderly gentleman who told me that he did remember a coach named Rick Wilson, but he had been gone for a long time. I asked excitedly if he could tell me where he had gone, and he said he believed it was to some school in Arkansas. I ended our conversation a little bummed out, because who wanted their search only narrowed down to an entire state? This was beginning to seem like a daunting task.
Rather than begin calling random schools asking stupid questions, I decided to see if I could get any help from a computer search. Punching in Coach Rick Wilson and the word Arkansas, I let the computer do the work. I got four hits, so I called the numbers one by one. The first Rick Wilson told me he had never been to Tennessee, and that he coached basketball. Strike one. The second Rick Wilson informed me that he had only been coaching for three years, so I knew he couldn’t be the one. Strike two.
I had no way of knowing whether I had actually struck out, because the last two Rick Wilsons didn’t answer their phones. I left each of them the same voice message: If you once coached in Tennessee and had a player named Cole Parker, please call me back.
When I didn’t get any return phone calls by five o’clock that evening, I figured all hope was lost. Cole came over for dinner and asked if I was okay, because I seemed like I was a little down, but I blamed it on having a slight headache. I couldn’t tell him anything about my quest, just in case I managed to be successful after all. His attempts at making me forget my headache were adorable – singing and telling me funny stories – and soon I forgot about the MVP award altogether.
Once he was convinced that he had me smiling again and the headache was gone, Cole wanted to know what I had accomplished on the wedding front. I told him proudly that the invitations were sent and the flowers were ordered. I also tried to explain the arbor idea, but I felt that I did a very poor job, because he just kept looking at me quizzically with one eyebrow lifted slightly. So, we already had the dresses, food, cake, music, and minister, and I thought everything was on track.
“You forgot the photographer,” he added, “but Mom already took care of it, so you’re covered.”
“Why did you let her do that?” I asked, cocking my head sideways. “She’s already done too much.”
“Hey, I’m not arguing with her,” he stated simply. “What are you going to want me to wear, by the way?”
Oh, good grief. Why hadn’t I ever thought about that???
“Hmm…you know what I think would look really good? Dark grey pants, white shirt with the sleeves rolled up above your elbows, and maybe have the top button undone so it looks more casual. Maybe vests… Then the two boys could wear grey ties.”
“What about me?” Cole questioned with a grin. “What color tie would I wear?”
“Purple, of course,” I suggested, closing my eyes. “Yeah, purple tie relaxed slightly around that undone button at your throat, your hair just a little tousled, five o’clock shadow creeping up your cheeks…” I felt him touch my arm, and my eyes flew open.
“What are you doing?” he laughed.
“Just picturing you,” I said, feeling a blush creep across my face. “You look pretty darn good.”
“You are so goofy.” He pulled me into his side on the couch, and I snuggled against him until he decided to go home.
-§-
The next day I helped Rosalie deep clean all the rooms upstairs, so we were able to verbally hash out a lot of the wedding details while we worked. She had a little spot in the yard all picked out for the ceremony, and she pointed to it from one of the upstairs balconies. Naturally, it was perfect. I was outside scrubbing windows on the front porch when my cell phone rang and I looked down to see an Arkansas number. My pulse started beating wildly, and I checked to make sure Rosalie wasn’t in hearing distance.
“Hello?” I breathed quietly.
“Yes, hello,” a male voice responded. “This is Rick Wilson. I believe you left a message on my machine yesterday?”
Hallelujah!
“Yes, that was me. I was wondering if you once coached Cole Parker.” I heard chuckling on the other end of the line, and I hesitated before saying anything else.
“Cole Parker,” he said finally. “It’s been a long time since I heard that name. Yeah, I was his coach, although I’m not sure what good I did him. Not much, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean by that?” I wanted to know, forgetting momentarily about the award.
“Well, you get a kid as talented as he was, you really want to do all you can to help them succeed. I tried, I really did. Ultimately, though, it wasn’t enough.”
“What do you mean, it wasn’t enough?” I knew I was pushing, but I was becoming so intrigued by Cole’s dismissal of baseball that I felt I had to know something.
“I mean that he gave up,” he stated. “What do you have to do with Cole Parker, anyway? You related to him or something?”
“I’m his fiancée,” I told him simply, waiting a second before I continued. “You don’t know why he gave up?”
“Isn’t that the million dollar question!” he stated with a laugh. “He just up and disappeared.”
“That seems kind of strange,” I reasoned aloud, hearing a grunt on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, doesn’t it? How’s he doing, anyway? I worried about him a lot, right after.”
“Oh, he’s great,” I assured him. “Actually, that brings me to the reason I called in the first place. He says he was the MVP, but that he never accepted the award. Is that true?”
“Uh-huh. Didn’t bother to show up.”
“So what did you do with it?” I asked hesitantly. “Did you leave it with the school? Maybe I could get them to send it to me?”
“No can do, young lady,” he protested. “I can’t help you there.”
“Why not?” I asked, feeling totally dejected.
“Because I didn’t keep the plaque,” he stated simply. “I shipped it to his mother.”
What? Can’t be.
“You’re sure about that?” I couldn’t help but feel very doubtful.
“Yes ma’am, I’m sure. Addressed it myself.”
Wow. That was so not what I expected.
“Oh. Well, I guess that answers my question. Thank you so much for calling me back. I really do appreciate your time.”
“You’re welcome,” he said warmly. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
I hung up the phone and sat there on the porch in complete shock. How could Liz have had the plaque and Cole not known about it? It didn’t make sense. Maybe it never reached her house. Worse yet, what if it did, and she threw it out, thinking he didn’t want it? This was not good at all.
Hurrying inside, I told Rosalie that I needed to run a quick errand. She asked if I wanted lunch first, but I told her I would probably be back very soon. Jumping in my car, I took off, realizing too late that I probably looked a fright after cleanin
g all morning. I should have driven back to Rosalie’s and cleaned up a little, but I was too intent on finding out about the plaque. Pulling into Liz’s driveway, I left the car and dashed up to the porch, taking a deep breath before I knocked. She peeked through the curtains right before she flung the door open.
“Camdyn?” she asked anxiously. “Everything okay? You look like a mess.” I laughed as I glanced down at my clothes.
“Yes, everything’s fine, we were just cleaning.”
“Well, come in,” she said, moving out of the doorway. I walked into the living room and thought about making small talk, but I couldn’t seem to make it happen.
“Liz, do you have Cole’s MVP plaque?” I blurted. Her eyes got wide, and then she looked slightly puzzled.
“How did you know about that?” she whispered, sitting down on the couch.
“I had this harebrained idea to find Cole’s MVP plaque for his wedding gift,” I explained with a sigh. “I have called all over the place, and this morning I finally got in touch with the coach, only to find that he sent it to you.”
“Yes, he did send it to me,” she said, gazing at me lovingly. “Camdyn, that’s a very sweet thing you were trying to do.”
“What did you do with it?” I asked, frowning slightly. “Why didn’t you ever give it to him?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she sighed. “When the coach sent it to me, I thought about giving it to him. The thing is, he left it all so quickly – gave up his scholarships, just walked away. He didn’t want to talk about it, and we never pushed him. I decided to put it away, so if he ever asked for it, I could give it to him. I figured a couple weeks would pass and he would bring it up, explain why he quit, but he never has. It’s still sitting in the attic, right where I put it.”
“That’s so bizarre,” I told her, smiling at her sympathetically. “I can’t believe he’s never mentioned it. The other night he told me that was his one regret about baseball – that he didn’t get his MVP award.” I watched as tears filled Liz’s eyes, and I started to feel a little sad, too.
“Well, I want you to give it to him, then,” she sniffed. “You let that be your wedding present.”
“Really?” I asked, feeling overjoyed. After all the calls and the trouble, to find the award right here – it seemed impossible.
“Yes, let me go find it,” she said. “Just make yourself comfortable.”
While she disappeared down the hallway, I waited patiently on the couch, looking at the pictures on the wall. Charlotte as a baby, her two teeth shining prominently. Rachel and Jeff at their wedding, looking very much like kids. Cole’s senior picture from high school, in his baseball uniform. An anniversary photo of Ted and Liz that looked about ten years old. I was about to stand up to get a closer look when Liz reappeared holding a cardboard box. She pulled out what looked like a roll of bubble wrap and handed it to me. Unwrapping it slowly, I eventually unearthed what I had been searching for – visible proof that Cole Parker was indeed the MVP of his baseball team. I thanked Liz profusely and asked her to keep my secret, which of course she agreed to do. Then, I carried it gingerly out to my car, placing it in the trunk, before I went back inside where Liz insisted I eat lunch.
After a sandwich and some sweet tea, I returned to the cardboard box and inspected the contents. Inside were the remnants of Cole’s baseball career - photos, mementos, and videotapes by the handful. I picked one of the videos up and inspected it, and when Liz asked if I wanted to see it, I nodded with a guilty smile. She laughed as she put her arm around me and gave me a squeeze. Within moments, Liz had queued up the VCR and I was watching the beginning of a televised broadcast on one of the local stations. Liz sat next to me, and she jumped the first time Cole appeared on the screen.
“There he is!” she exclaimed, pointing at the TV. I felt like I was seeing someone who didn’t really exist. It was definitely Cole - that much I could tell; same face, just younger, slightly thinner, with his hair worn longer and curling in the back beneath his batting helmet.
Wow, he was cute. Dangerously cute. Yikes.
“One and one the count for Cole Parker,” the announcer said. “Johnny, this kid is definitely one to watch. He was outstanding last year, and this year could be one for the record books.”
“I agree, Tom,” the other announcer replied. “When I spoke to him before the game, he seemed very confident.”
There’s something really different about his eyes, I thought. There’s a cockiness there, an air of arrogance. I can’t believe the way he seems like someone else.
“That’s hard hit down the third base line! Looks like it’s going to be a stand-up double for Cole Parker. No, he’s rounding second, and the slide… Safe!”
“Wow, Tom, that kid has some wheels. Mark my words, he’ll be in the major leagues soon enough, and you’re going to see Cole Parker for a long time to come.”
“That’s amazing,” I whispered to Liz. She nodded, and I went back to watching the game. Play after play I was astounded. He turned an unbelievably difficult double play. He caught what could have easily been a base hit by launching himself through the air and landing on his stomach in the dirt. He stole two bases. I was almost in shock at how wonderfully he was playing, and I sat there until the end of the game and the announcers interviewed Cole. One of them asked about his incredible performance, and he flashed one of those familiar dazzling smiles at the camera. Staring at his image, I found myself completely mesmerized.
“Well, Johnny,” he started in that voice I recognized, “I think the trick is just to keep your head in the game. Of course, as always I was backed with great teammates, and cheered on by our amazing fans, so how could I not give an incredible performance?” He winked flirtatiously at the camera, and I noticed that none of the other teammates seemed impressed with his success.
It’s like Cole’s evil twin or something, being all seductive and conceited. Definitely too cute for his own good.
I popped the VCR tape out and inserted another. I couldn’t say where Liz went, because after a while she wasn’t sitting next to me anymore. Still, I found myself glued to the television, watching Cole like a fascinatingly adorable train wreck. The fourth video was playing in the VCR when I heard shushed voices behind me, steadily becoming louder.
“I found them in the attic,” I heard Liz say. “I thought she might want to see one, but she’s been sitting there for hours.”
“I can’t believe you still have those!” Cole responded, sounding a little angry.
“I’m sorry, honey, I really didn’t expect her to react like that,” Liz defended herself. Suddenly Cole was next to me, remote in his hand, and the TV faded to black. I glanced up at him, silently running his hand through his hair, and then without a word he was out the front door. Sensing his anger, I leaned back my head and grimaced, overtaken by the revelation that I had lost track of time.
I told Rosalie I would be right back. She must be worried sick!
With intentions of making my way into the kitchen where I had left my phone, I met Liz standing there in the doorway staring at me.
“I should call Rosalie,” I said in a monotone, feeling a little peculiar about the whole scene that had just taken place.
“Oh, she called your cell a while ago,” Liz stated. “I went ahead and answered it for you.” I couldn’t look past the worried expression on her face, so as I began to head over to where Cole had gone, I gave her a quick hug.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered. She shook her head and tried to give me a smile. When I had taken a couple of steps, I heard her voice behind me.
“Fix your hair first.”
Seriously? Cole’s sitting outside presumably fuming mad and you think I’m concerned about my hair?
Actually, now that she said something, I am a little concerned about my hair.
A quick walk into the restroom and peek at myself in the mirror revealed that my hair was half in the ponytail and partially fallen down on one side. I almost looked a l
ittle scary to my own eyes, so maybe it was a good thing Cole hadn’t hung around to chat. Deftly I pulled my hair loose, forming a quick braid over my shoulder before I went out to meet him. He was sitting on the porch swing, absently looking out across the yard. I sat gingerly next to him, afraid to touch him or say anything. He leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him.
“I’m sorry, Camdyn.” His voice sounded huskier than normal. “My mom called and told me you were over here watching my old videos from college, and I almost felt sick. I shouldn’t have overreacted.”
Cole, what in the world are you so worried about?
“You really were phenomenal,” I marveled aloud, shaking my head. “Yeah, you were a little cocky, but…” I looked over at him to make sure he wasn’t too upset, and decided it was okay to tease him a little. “Your hair was really cute, all curling under your batting helmet.” He tilted his head back and laughed up at the ceiling.
“Cute, huh? Man, I really thought I was something back then.”
“Hmm…” I said carefully. “I could tell. You were definitely good looking, no doubt about that. You could really play, too, so I can see why you felt that way, to a degree. I definitely like this Cole better, though, even if I don’t understand why you were so upset.”
“I shouldn’t have been,” he agreed. “I know it seems ridiculous, but... You know how you’re always staring at me?”
“Yeah,” I muttered guiltily, trying purposely not to look at him.
“Well, you get this look in your eyes,” he glanced over at me with a chuckle. “It’s just this awesome, loving expression, and it makes me feel like I’m the only man in the world. I don’t want to lose that.”
“Why would you lose that?” I turned to stare fully into his face, locking in on his deep brown eyes. He stared at me for a moment before he answered quietly.
“I’m just afraid you’re going to realize that I’m not the guy you thought I was.”
“I know who you are,” I assured him, and he responded with a sad smile. I thought he might elaborate, but he dropped the subject and slid his arm around my shoulders, so I cozily leaned into the circle of his arm and stared out across the yard. When he started slightly rocking the swing back and forth, I pulled my legs up beside me and snuggled closer to him.
A Reason to Be Alone (The Camdyn Series Book 2) Page 17