Summer on Main Street

by Crista McHugh

  “Six months before he died, he left us. Met someone else. At a casino, of all places.” She laughed to lighten the mood, but it came out as more of a pathetic squawk. “She was in the car with him when he—” She cleared her throat. “She died, too.”

  “Beth. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  She tucked some hair back into her cap as they jogged. She kept her pace slower because she’d noticed he was favoring his knee a bit. “I’m not telling you this to get your sympathy. It is what it is. But I wanted you to know so you totally understand my position with Lindsey. Can you imagine telling a five-year-old that her father moved out, and then later having to tell her that he died? It’s not easy.” She glanced over at Jack. “If you ever decide you want to be part of her life as her father, it has to be for the long haul. You can’t just disappear someday because it’s too hard or you’re bored.”

  They ran in silence for a time. She was glad he wasn’t prying for more information or making a big deal out of what she’d told him. The situation stunk, any way you looked at it. It really did. Just thinking about it made her so sad. More for Lindsey than herself. Just thinking about it made her feel like a failure as a wife and as a woman. Just thinking about it made her feel... icky.

  Jack grabbed her arm and pulled them both to a stop.

  “What?” She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want to see his sympathy. Not much was worse than people feeling sorry for her. It had taken a good six months after she and Lindsey first moved back to Twin Rivers before people stopped treating her like the poor, jilted widow, whose dead husband had run off with another woman.

  Jack tipped up her chin with his finger until she had no choice but meet his gaze. It wasn’t sympathy she saw in his eyes, but anger. “You are an amazing, beautiful woman, Beth. Don’t ever forget that, okay?” His gaze lowered to her mouth before meeting her eyes again. He dropped his hand. “David was a fucking idiot.”

  He broke into a run.

  Beth blinked a few times, then she caught up to him. He really thought she was amazing and beautiful? Her heart rate sped up from more than their faster running pace. Even if he’d only said it to make her feel better, she appreciated it. Because she did feel better.

  But, dammit, now she also felt—

  Jack nudged her in the arm and motioned to the right. “Look familiar?” They ran past a narrow path that she remembered wound down to the river, to a grassy clearing beside the water.

  Beth was sure her face turned bright red. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He chuckled. “Liar, liar, pants on fire. I kissed you for the first time there.”

  “That’s Lindsey’s favorite saying.”

  “‘I kissed you for the first time’ is her favorite saying?”

  She made a face. Like she’d ever forget their first kiss. Her lips tingled with the memory. It had been her first real kiss. The earlier ones had paled in comparison. And ever since. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

  “Of course I remember. We had some good times.”

  Understatement of the decade. “We did.” She slowed to a walk, to cool down for the remainder of her workout. He did the same.

  “I got to second base with you there for the first time, too.”

  Her nipples tingled in response. She tightened her jacket around her as if that would erase the sensation. It didn’t.

  She glanced over at him. A fine sheen of perspiration or rain slicked the skin of his face and neck, and he stared straight ahead. He was clearly just trying to take her mind off their earlier conversation. No way were the memories turning him on, like they were her. To him, it was probably no different than remembering a homerun or out at the plate.

  A pulse throbbed in his neck, and she imagined pressing her lips to it, feeling the beat beneath her mouth.

  What on earth was wrong with her? Why did he have to mention kissing her? And touching her breasts? Now, those memories would be on her mind whenever she saw him.

  Oh, who was she kidding? Those memories, along with many other more steamy ones, had been on her mind almost nonstop since he’d reentered her life. She supposed that was normal. She’d been without a man since way before David’s death. In fact, her love life had been virtually non-existent the last couple years of their marriage. And even before that, back in the beginning, it hadn’t had the spark and passion that she and Jack had—

  She glanced up at the sky and said a silent prayer of forgiveness to David, even though he didn’t really deserve it. The rat. Being around Jack just brought up memories that were better left forgotten. Or at the very least, unsaid.

  “Well, that was a long time ago,” she said. “We were both just kids who didn’t know what we wanted.” They approached her turnoff. “This is where I head off,” she said, slowing.

  He slowed to a stop. She did too.

  “When can I see Lindsey again?”

  Damn. She’d rather remember the past than deal with this.

  She rolled her shoulders forward and back a few times. “This is a small town. People will think it’s… weird if you all of a sudden start hanging out with Lindsey.”

  “They’ll just assume you and I are seeing each other.”

  Beth almost choked on her spit. “Seeing each other?” Just that thought sent her pulse into overdrive.

  “Yeah. You know, dating?”

  “I know what you meant.”

  “You and I will know it’s not true, but that’s what they’ll think.” He shrugged.

  Unexpected hurt welled inside her, that he would so quickly dismiss the idea of actually dating her. Not that she wanted to date Jack. Like she needed that complication in her life. And in Lindsey’s. “I don’t know. What happens when you meet someone you really want to date?”

  He waved his hand in the air between them. “That’s not going to happen. I don’t have room in my life for a serious relationship.”

  Because the game always came first. Some things never changed.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning, Jack winced as the team trainer stretched his leg in a direction it shouldn’t naturally go. After the run with Beth yesterday, his knee had swollen up like a balloon.

  “Sorry. Does that hurt?” Casey asked. He didn’t look apologetic. The kid looked barely old enough to be out of high school, let alone physical therapy school.

  Jack bit back a string of curse words. “If I hit you in the balls, would that hurt?”

  Casey laughed, then manipulated the leg again. “You obviously overdid it. I know you didn’t have a game yesterday, so tell me about your last workout.”

  He cleared his throat. “I ran the Centennial Trail.” Why did he have the urge to cross his fingers behind his back? Something a guilty little kid would do.

  “Hmm. Jogging hasn’t affected your knee like this before. Did you go farther than normal?” Jack shook his head. “Faster than normal?”

  He’d wanted to keep up with Beth, something he’d easily been able to do before his injury. Damn, if Jack didn’t feel his skin burning. He scratched the back of his neck. “I might have gone a little faster than normal.” Because he didn’t want Beth to see him as anything less than he used to be.

  Speaking of, he was headed to her house after the afternoon game today, to have dinner with her and Lindsey. Not like a date, or anything. Just getting to know Lindsey. He didn’t know if it was the thought of seeing her again or of seeing Beth that had his stomach doing weird things.

  “Did it hurt while you were doing it?” Casey scribbled on his notes.

  Jack refocused on the conversation at hand. “Uh, a little.”

  Casey snapped the pencil onto his clipboard. “A little?”

  “Okay, a lot.”

  Casey stared him, like a teacher glaring at a student suspected of cheating on a test. “I won’t even say it, Jack.”

  “I know, I know.”

  Casey manipulated the leg again.

  “Goddammit! I’m
not a fucking pretzel.”

  “You’re really inflexible.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Jack grumbled.

  “I once open-mouth kissed a horse,” Casey deadpanned.

  Jack groaned. “Oh God. Another Austin Powers fan girl.” He’d gotten hooked on those movies the first time he was in Twin Rivers. He couldn’t help chuckling, despite the pain Attila the Hun inflicted upon him.

  “Sorry, man. Cooper got me hooked on those movies. If we can get you some more mobility through this joint, the pain and stiffness would decrease significantly.”

  Jack had a feeling the PT’s solutions would only cause him more pain and stiffness. Treatments usually did. “Tell me what I need to do.”

  Casey made some more notes on the clipboard. Jack used the reprieve to bend and straighten his leg a few times. After yesterday’s ego run and now this brutal hour of PT, the knee hurt like a whole new level of hell.

  “Have you ever taken a yoga class?” Casey asked.

  Visions of spandex-clad women and feminine-looking men twisted into various pretzel-like poses flashed through his mind. He shuddered inwardly. “Do I look like the type of guy that would do yoga? And if you say ‘yes’, I will hurt you.”

  “Lots of athletes do yoga.”

  “Yeah, well, not this one.”

  “Numerous studies have proven that yoga enhances recovery time and helps prevent future injury. Not to mention it’s just really good for you.”

  He’d heard that, too. Some of his teammates in San Diego swore by their yoga practices, but Jack had never been even remotely interested in trying it.

  “Okay, fine. Show me some yoga stretches I can add to my daily workouts.”

  Casey shook his head. “I’m not an expert. But there’s a studio in town we’ve sent a couple of guys to. The instructors there have a great reputation.” He ripped a piece of paper from his prescription tablet and handed it to Jack. “Give this to them. I wrote down your limitations.”

  Jack bristled, and shoved the paper into his pocket without looking at it, knowing he may or not get around to taking a class. He was only twenty-eight. He should have no limitations.

  ***

  Beth peeked into the slow cooker, making sure there was enough liquid in the stew, then checked her reflection in the mirror again. She smoothed back a couple of flyaway hairs from her face.

  This wasn’t a date. Jack just wanted to spend time with Lindsey.

  So, why was she so nervous, as if this were a real date? Because around him she felt like she was still that innocent and slightly naïve nineteen-year-old girl, who’d never really had a boyfriend before, who’d never really been paid attention to by a cute guy, who still couldn’t quite believe this guy was really interested in her.

  This time around was really no different. This guy still wasn’t interested in her. Just her daughter. Their daughter.

  Hmm.

  Lindsey ran into the room. “Is he almost here, Mommy?”

  Beth glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Any time.” Her stomach clenched and churned at the thought.

  “Is Jack-Mack your boyfriend?”

  Beth schooled her expression, kept it even. She hadn’t dated since David’s death, hadn’t even broached the subject with Lindsey.

  “No, he’s not,” Beth said slowly, as she pulled lettuce and vegetables from the fridge. “We’re just… friends. But would it bother you if I did have a boyfriend?” Not that there was anyone she wanted to date.

  Lindsey shrugged. “I dunno. It would be kind of weird. Do you think Dad would be mad?”

  “I think he would want us to get on with our lives.” Just as he had before he’d died. Bastard. “He’d want us to be happy.” Which was true. Despite his many faults and failings, he’d been a good man at heart and would want the best for them now.

  Lindsey pursed her lips, deep in thought. “Stacy Armstrong’s mom has a lot of different boyfriends. Stacy says they play real loud games in her mom’s bedroom at night.”

  Beth almost dropped the head of lettuce. She’d expected another question about Jack. “That’s, uh, interesting, sweetie.” She’d have to remember that, if she ever dated again.

  Beth ran the vegetables under water, then set them aside to dry near the cutting board.

  A knock sounded at the door. “I’ll get it!” Lindsey raced out of the kitchen.

  Beth grabbed a dishtowel and wiped her hands as she followed. Lindsey flung open the door. Jack stood on the doorstep, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a baseball glove in the other.

  “Do you always carry your mitt with you?” Beth asked, holding the door wide to invite him inside.

  “Doesn’t everybody?” he answered, then tugged Lindsey’s braid. “Hey, short stuff.”

  “Wanna play catch in the backyard, Jack-Mack?” She’d been carrying her glove and a ball around the house for the past hour.

  “Sweetie, Jack just got here. Why don’t we visit a bit before—?”

  “Oh, please? Just for a little bit?” Lindsey turned her pleading eyes on Jack, and Beth knew immediately her daughter had won. He looked like he would melt on the spot. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But it was pretty cute.

  Jack met her gaze over Lindsey’s head. “That is why I’m here,” he mouthed, handing her the wine. “You look great,” he murmured as he passed, his warm breath tickling her ear.

  Damn. Why did he have to say that? As if her nerves weren’t on edge already. He was probably still trying to make her feel better because of what she’d told him about David.

  Whatever his reasons, the compliment made Beth shiver and she brushed her hair behind her ears, annoyed by her shaking hands.

  “So where’s Jack the cat?” Jack asked Lindsey as they walked through the house.

  “Oh!” Lindsey bounced on her toes. “I’ll get her. She’s probably sleeping on my bed...” She was already halfway down the hall.

  Beth’s brows drew together. “How did you know about the cat?”

  Jack grinned and her heart stupidly flip-flopped in her chest. “She told me about Jack in her letter.”

  “You kept it?”

  He shrugged and twisted the glove in his hands, then tucked it under his arm. “Well, you know... I keep the cute ones.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets then pulled them out again.

  She really didn’t need to know he’d kept Lindsey’s letter all this time. And that he’d reread it. That was very sweet.

  Lindsey came down the short hall with the cat in her arms. “This is Jack.” She held the gray ball of fur out to Jack and he pulled it into his arms, stroking her ears. Jack the cat immediately started purring and rubbing her face against Jack the man.

  Lucky cat.

  No. Stop that. Don’t think like that.

  “My dad made me change her name to Molly cuz he said girl cats can’t be named Jack, but then he died and so I named her Jack again.”

  Oh, to be six years old and so matter of fact about life and change, Beth mused.

  Jack laughed. “Yes, you told me that in your letter,” he said, scratching the happy cat between the ears.

  “That’s right, I did.” Lindsey grinned, obviously not at all surprised that Jack would remember her letter. Kids were the center of their own universe, so they assumed they were the center of everyone else’s too. Except now, Beth was afraid, Jack was also moving into the center of Lindsey’s universe. She just hoped that if he stayed there, he didn’t let her down.

  Jack had it so easy. Committing to just being a “family friend” gave him the out he’d need when he moved back up to the majors, or when someday he decided he’d gotten to know Lindsey enough. Or if—Beth’s breathing shallowed and her skin burned—someday he decided he wanted to start a family of his own.

  Jack set the cat down and he followed Lindsey to the back door. “You coming out, too?”

  Beth shook her head. “No,” she snapped. Jack’s eyes narrowed
at her abruptness. She cleared her throat. “You two go on. I’ll finish getting dinner ready.”

  “No, Mommy. You have to come, too.” Lindsey pointed at the door. “You’re the batter.”

  “Yeah, Mommy,” Jack agreed, and Lindsey broke into a fit of giggles, bending forward and clutching her stomach as it that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

  Jack started laughing too. Beth didn’t even smirk.

  ***

  Holding onto his jacket sleeve, Lindsey tugged Jack into the small backyard. The air outside was cold and brisk. The sky promised rain, but the gray clouds held it in check for the moment. His shoes sunk into the wet grass, leaving deep footprints as Lindsey towed him across the yard.

  “You go over there.” She pointed to the corner of the fence. “That’s home plate. You’re the catcher, of course.”

  Jack grinned and did as she demanded. She skipped to the center of the yard. Beth hung back on the small patio, her arms hugging her body. She looked cold and pissed. Her mood had flipped a moment ago, and he had no idea why.

  Lindsey stood on a grass-bare spot in the center of the yard, and scraped her left sneaker across it a few times.

  “Is that your pitcher’s mound?” Jack shifted his position a bit, to relieve the twinge in his knee. Cold, wet weather seemed to make it worse. He’d only been able to play one inning in the game today. The Pacific Northwest probably wasn’t the best place to be doing his rehab. He probably should take his trainer’s advice and try a yoga class.

  “Yes, silly.” Like, duh, Lindsey’s expression and body language taunted him. She dropped her chin and stared at him from under the brim of her ball cap.

  Jack squatted behind a muddy paper plate that served as home base and positioned his glove between his knees. “Okay, champ. Show me what you’ve got.”

  She cradled the ball in her glove against her chest and stared him down, nodding at him and shaking her head as if he was sending her pitching signals. He bit back a grin at her dramatics. He glanced over at Beth. She stood watching them, her arms still crossed.

  He didn’t know what he did or didn’t do to trigger this change in her mood. Exactly why he was single. He’d probably had an asshole moment and didn’t even realize it. He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back.