by Karen Rock
Somehow he had to get through to her. After tomorrow’s game, he’d find a way. He’d grab her before she left and never let her go. Maybe then the part of him that held on to those bottles would let go, too.
“We’re here!” Levi bounced up and down in his seat, throwing open the door before Garrett put his car in Park.
“Hold on, speedy.”
But Levi was already undoing the string and dragging his bike out of the trunk, metal screeching on metal.
Garrett gently nudged the boy aside and grabbed the wheels, hauling them out. When he looked up, Levi was gone. He swore under his breath. He should have known better than to take his eye off a kid with a reputation for disappearing. With his gaze roaming the park, he slammed the trunk closed.
“Over here!” shouted Levi. He stood with his fingers hooked in a chain-link fence, watching kids on skateboards zipping up and down half-pipes and performing aerial tricks.
“No running away like that again,” Garrett growled. Levi looked up, chastened.
“Sorry. Promise not to do it again. But this is so cool. I wish I had a skateboard.”
Garrett smiled down at him, already planning the custom board he’d buy Levi. “Maybe Santa will be good to you this year.”
The preteen shrugged. “I’m always on the naughty list. Everything I get is practical—like socks.”
Garrett pressed his lips together to hold in his angry exclamation. That wouldn’t happen to Levi again. Garrett would guarantee it.
He pointed to a large concrete circle between a clump of maples that swayed in the stiff breeze. “Let’s start there.”
Levi flushed as red as his hair when they reached it. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Of course you can’t. You’ve never done it before.” He leaned his bike against a tree and rolled the other to Levi.
Levi’s shoulders lowered. “Are you really going to laugh at me if I fall?”
“That’s if you fall, and I promise—though I’m not going to lie, it’ll be hard.”
Levi snickered, threw a leg over the bike and sat. He reached for the handlebars, then looked up at Garrett.
“What do I do?”
“Put your feet on the pedals. Pump your legs to make the tires go forward. Squeeze the metal bar on the handles to brake.”
“Okay.” But Levi remained motionless, his knuckles white against the black handles.
“I’ll push you off.”
Levi nodded. “Don’t let go until I say so.”
“Got it. Ready?”
“Ready.”
Garrett rolled the bike forward as Levi pressed on the pedals, his knees rising and falling. The bike wobbled as they crossed the circle to enter one of the paths.
“Can I let go?” Garrett hollered, racing alongside the bike.
Levi shook his hair out of his face. “Not yet.”
They rolled farther down the path. “Ready yet?” called Garrett.
“No.” The brakes squealed, bringing the bike to a jarring halt.
“What’s wrong?” Garrett squinted down at Levi. The boy’s chest seemed to have shrunk into itself, his chin low.
“How do you know when you’re ready to do something?”
Garrett raked a hand through his hair. Good question. One he had no solid answer for.
“You just have to have faith. Hope for the best.”
Levi squinted up at him. “That’s what you do?”
Not as much as he should. Not when it came to Heather. But he was going to change that. “As much as I can.”
Levi squared his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Garrett pushed off again. They raced down the pavement, the back of the bike in his grip.
After a minute, Levi yelled, “Ready!”
Garrett’s hands dropped to his sides. He watched with pride as a furiously pedaling Levi wobbled down the bike path.
Levi was riding his first bike. But in the next instant, the boy was down in a tangle of gears and limbs.
Garrett raced to the scene and pulled up short at Levi’s laugh. The kid’s delighted face shone up at him, his silvery smile glinting in the light.
“Did you see that? I did it! I rode a bike!”
Relieved, Garrett helped Levi to his feet and set him back on the bike.
“Good job, Levi.” He pushed the boy off again, watching with a grin as the kid rode away fast, a success.
And all it took was some blind faith.
Time to have some with Heather.
* * *
HEATHER TAPPED HER pencil on the conference table, eager for this meeting to start. Mandatory meeting, she corrected herself. Now that her mother was majority owner, she called the shots—and this conference was one of them. Just the two of them. Dread filled her. Would her mother put on a phony sober act? Or worse, would she slur her words? Babble nonsensically? If so, Heather would walk right out. She’d been okay at the coffee shop, but her mother’s behavior was as unpredictable as the weather.
The door opened and her mother walked in, the aroma of her expensive perfume preceding her. “You’re looking lovely, Heather.”
“Thank you.” Heather folded her hands in the lap of her dress, careful not to talk more than she had to. As a child, she’d never known which words would set off her mom. Especially when they were alone. At least in Cupa Java, Mrs. Mapes’s presence had made her feel safe.
Mom pulled out a fabric-backed chair and slid into it, opposite Heather. Gold hoops swung from her ears, a diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist. She’d certainly done well at the finance company she’d worked for, thought Heather.
Though she hadn’t asked, Heather wondered if some of her mother’s investment came from her wealthy family. As the sole heir of her deceased parents’ fortune, she would have money to burn. But why spend it on the Falcons?
“The parent team owners contacted me,” her mother began. “The Gowettes.”
Despite Heather’s resolve to stay silent, she broke in. “Tell them we’re not selling. We’re one game away from making it to the playoffs. Our stadium is nearly selling out every night. There’s no need to hand it to them.” Heather’s pulse zipped through her, adrenaline making her knees jitter beneath the table.
“I agree,” her mother surprised her by saying, a small smile appearing on her carefully made-up face. Heather looked away, Mom’s former snarl juxtaposing, in her memory, with the now friendly expression.
Heather twisted her sweaty hands in her lap. It was beyond uncomfortable being this close, physically. Deep down, it terrified the part of her that recalled every out-of-control moment from her childhood. At any second, her mother could rip off her nice mask, revealing her old hurtful self.
“They want to send up a Double-A third baseman, Tony Formetti.”
“But the trainers told me they’ll clear Hopson to play any day. His ankle’s nearly healed.” Heather hated taking orders from the parent team, especially when it involved her players.
“I explained that as well, but they feel Hopson’s on his last season. Since they’re not renewing him, they want Formetti to get some playing time in now.”
Heather sucked in a hard breath and coughed. Her mother hurried to the credenza, returning with bottled water and pushing it across the table at her.
“Hopson’s come a long way this season. He’s made some great plays, showed more hustle...” Heather’s hands shook slightly as she lifted the bottle and drank. Poor Hopson. All that effort and now this. The decision was business, but that didn’t make it easier.
“My hands are tied.” Her mom’s sculpted brows came together, a line forming between them. “I’m sorry. I wanted to let you know first. Ask what you’d like to do with George for the rest of the season.”
Bitterness rose in Heather’s throat, eroding what she’d intended to say. How could her mother look so composed? So unaffected? But then again, she’d never had any real investment in the players or this team. Not, Heather qualified, until recent
ly. Her reasons for getting involved still defied understanding. Many of her mother’s actions always had.
“I want to play Hopson,” Heather said firmly. “Tomorrow, if he’s cleared.”
Her mother splayed manicured hands in front of her. “Even though the playoffs are on the line?”
“Especially because of that,” Heather insisted, certain. “If this is George’s last year, then he deserves the glory. He’s earned the spot, not some unknown player from a Double-A team. We’ll win with Hopson if he’s healthy. I have faith.”
A slow smile spread across her mother’s face. “And I trust your judgment.”
Heather sank against the back of her seat. Just like that, her mother had confidence in her. No criticism. No second-guessing. Just blind faith like in the coffee shop. It was such a strange, heady sensation.
A soft hand fell on hers. “Sweetheart, I know I haven’t been the best parent to you. Not by a stretch. But please know that I never stopped loving or believing in you.”
Suddenly the words, long held back, tumbled out of Heather before she could prevent them.
“Then why didn’t you quit taking pills? Why were drugs more important than me?” She ducked her head, her features contorting as she strove to control herself. This was a business meeting. She hadn’t planned on it dissolving into a family intervention.
Her mother hurried around the table and sat beside Heather, wrapping an arm around her. “I was sick. Plain and simple. There wasn’t anything you or Daddy could do. In fact, in lots of ways, you saved my life.”
“You nearly cost me mine.”
Her mother’s sudden quiet made Heather look up. The color had drained from her face, leaving only bright pink blush and matching lipstick behind.
“There’s no excuse for what I did that day,” her mom said, her voice a notch above a whisper. “Getting behind the wheel while under the influence, letting you in the car with me—it’s the most disgusting thing a person can do.”
Heather nodded. Turned toward her mom. Finally, an apology along with what sounded like genuine remorse. Surely her mother couldn’t be this good at faking her sincerity?
“That’s why I left when the hospital discharged me,” her mother confessed after blowing her nose.
Shock rolled through Heather like a thunderclap. “I thought you didn’t want us anymore.”
Her mother took in a shuddering breath. “Oh, honey, I wanted you so much. But I wanted you safe more. The only way to guarantee that was to stay away until I got sober. Your father and I agreed.”
“Dad knew about this?” Heather gripped the edge of the table, sure she’d slide to the floor if she didn’t.
“Yes. Once the drugs cleared from my system, we had a long talk to decide what was best for you. We still loved each other, but we knew we were better off apart.”
“That’s why he left half the team to you,” Heather breathed. “He loved you.”
“No.” Mom shook her head. A wisp of brown hair fell from her bun and curled beneath her chin. “He cared so much about both of us that he hoped it’d get us together.”
“Is that what he told you?” Heather tossed back another drink of water, heated and off balance.
“He mentioned it a lot. The last time was right after his heart attack. But I always said no. The entire team should belong to you, Heather. When it’s safely in the black, I’m signing my share of it over.”
Heather’s mouth dropped open. At last she was getting her team. But a tug of unease dampened her excitement. This wasn’t what her father wanted. Had he hoped to save not only his team but also his family by reuniting his wife and daughter? Shouldn’t Heather care about that, too?
“How often did you two speak?”
Her mother’s cell phone buzzed. Without looking away from Heather, she clicked it off. “Mostly on your birthdays and holidays. Those were the toughest times for me. He always gave me updates, told me all of the amazing things you were doing. He was so proud of you.”
“I wish he’d told me.” Despite her efforts, Heather’s sentence ended in a watery gulp.
“Oh, honey. That wasn’t his way.” Heather resisted her mother’s attempt to hug her.
“But his father was like that,” her mom continued, twisting two rings on her left index finger. With a start, Heather recognized her mom’s wedding set. “He parented you the way he was brought up. Good or bad, it’s the best he knew how. He cared so much about raising you right. Called me sometimes about that.”
Understanding took root inside Heather and sprouted.
“I’m ashamed to say,” her mom continued, “that at first, I wasn’t always sober enough to advise him. I guess he parented you the only way he knew how, by showing you what you’d done wrong so you wouldn’t do it again. He wanted to make up for you not having a mother. Hoped he’d help you be your best, despite having only him, but I suppose he went overboard. It came out of love, even if it was wrong.”
Heather’s chest expanded, making room for the knowledge flowering inside. Her father wasn’t perfect, but he had done what he could to be the best parent for her. She peered at her mother’s earnest face. Was it possible another loving parent sat beside her?
Suddenly she knew what she had to do.
In a swift move, she swept her mother into her arms, holding her close until her mom’s rigid body collapsed against her.
“I love you, Heather,” her mom whispered in her ear.
“I know,” Heather replied, meaning it.
Sometimes you had to trust others not to let you down rather than pushing them away.
And, she finally realized, perhaps that included Garrett.
CHAPTER TWELVE
GARRETT FINISHED UP with a reporter, then headed off the field to the locker rooms. He was ready to celebrate tonight’s all-important win—preferably with Heather.
“Psssssst! Mr. Wolf. I mean, Garrett!” someone stage-whispered.
He looked up at the bleachers beside the tunnel, surprised to see Levi alone. His thin body swam inside Garrett’s present: an oversize blue-and-white Falcons jersey.
“Hey, Levi. Where’s your group?”
“Waiting for me at the bus, but Mr. Lettles is still here. He’s in the bathroom.” Levi jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Great game.”
“Thanks. It was a big one.”
“This means the Falcons are in the playoffs, right?”
Garrett nodded. He was filled with pride that he’d won this clincher. “We have more games to go,” he said, his mind on the scouts coming in a few days. “But win or lose, we’re heading to the playoffs.”
Levi held out his knuckles. They fist bumped. “The Falcons are going to be league champions! Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a glittery gold-and-green four-leaf clover sticker. “I had to spend two dollars to win this, but I wanted to give it to you. For good luck.”
Touched, Garrett took the sticker. Levi was a good kid, no matter the bad rap he’d gotten in the past. If Garrett moved up to the Majors, he’d make sure they stayed close. As for now, however, he needed to leave and catch Heather. Tonight, he’d convince her to count on him, on and off the field.
“Thanks, Levi. We’ll do our best. How long has Mr. Lettles been gone?”
Levi looked over his shoulder, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I should head back to the bus. They could have left without me.”
“I doubt that, but I wouldn’t hold them up. If Mr. Lettles looks for you here, I’ll let him know.”
Despite Garrett’s urging, Levi remained. “Or you could drive me back. Maybe we could stop for ice cream...”
Garrett’s heart sank. He hated saying no to the kid. Especially when he looked that hopeful. But he had to get to Heather. With the season slipping away and a good chance that he’d be called up to the Majors soon, he wouldn’t waste another minute.
“How about ice cream tomorrow?”
To Garrett’s surprise, Levi shook his head. His frec
kles stood out under the stadium’s bright lights. “Can’t tomorrow. It has to be now.”
Garrett’s eyes narrowed. “Why? What’s happening tomorrow?”
“Can we just go for ice cream?” Levi’s voice rose, wheedling. “I’ll tell you then.”
“I’m sorry, Levi. I can’t tonight. Let’s go biking the day after tomorrow. We’ll stop for treats afterwards.”
Levi looked down. Shuffled his feet. Quiet, for once.
Garrett moved closer to the railing. “Are you okay?”
“It’ll be too late then,” Levi muttered.
Concern filled Garrett. “What will be too late?”
Levi shook his head. He raced up the aisle, taking the cement steps two at a time.
Worried, Garrett pulled out his cell phone and dialed Mr. Lettles. A message announced the voice mail box was full. He swore under his breath.
“Mr. Wolf.” A man in a tailored suit, his hair gelled, stepped forward. Garrett turned. “I’m Andrew Layhee from WHCN TV. Would you have time for a quick interview?”
Garrett looked from the top of the stadium seats to the camera. Doing press was part of his job, and turning down an interview with Raleigh’s biggest news channel would label him as the rude, uncooperative player he used to be. With scouts scrutinizing him, he couldn’t afford a misstep. Mr. Lettles remained on the upper level. A bus waited out in front. Levi would be safe.
Still, guilt swamped him for not taking Levi out. They’d done it plenty of times before. But tonight he had other plans. He’d make it up to the kid. Fix whatever was bugging him then. At war with himself, Garrett extended a hand. “Sure. I can only give you a few minutes, though.”
“That’s fine.” Andrew adjusted his tie. After holding up his microphone, he faced the camera with a broad smile.
“I’m here with Garrett Wolf, standout pitcher for the Falcons. The team just made the playoffs with a dramatic turnaround, winning forty of their last fifty games, thanks in large part to your work. What was the key to your comeback?”
Garrett’s mind flashed to Heather, her lovely face as she pointed out his arm slot issue, her determination in winning over the rest of the team. “Well, we knew the talent was here. It was just a matter of it all coming together. Our new manager gets a lot of credit for that.”