Ember

by Emma Renshaw

  “Never,” he said and laughed. “Can I drive this sometime? How fast can it go?”

  “Sure. It can get up to about thirty-five miles per hour. My dad disabled something or another so it would go faster than the fifteen it originally topped off at. That was a total mistake for my mom though. If you think I take corners fast, you should see her zooming around in her hot pink Hummer. She’s dangerous.”

  He chuckled as I pulled up to the front of the inn and slid off the seat. “If you want to wait right here, I’ll bring it out for you. Want a coffee to go? Something for your mom?”

  “Two coffees would be great.” And for the first time that morning, I got the full force of his smile. I wanted to dance a little jig that it had been me who’d brought it out after his stormy mood just a few minutes ago.

  I raced inside, spotting my brother, Colt, leaning against the far wall, fully decked out in his police uniform as he talked on the phone. He lifted his free hand and waved me over. I held up my finger to let him know I’d be a minute.

  Swiftly chopping knives, flames hissing under metal pans, and the aromas of the lunch I’d planned for the day greeted me. My kitchen staff was prepping for the meal, and the smells and sounds calmed me. When people are falling asleep, some listen to rain, some listen to crashing waves; I could listen to the sounds of a busy kitchen forever.

  I snagged a couple of breakfast burritos, wrapped in parchment paper, from the refrigerator and popped them in the microwave as I prepared two coffees. I nestled each cup in a to-go container, threw the burritos in a bag, and hustled out to Gunner. He was leaning against the side of his truck watching the sky and twirling a baseball in his hand. The heaviness I’d sensed earlier was back.

  “Here you go,” I said, handing over the goods.

  “Thanks, Delilah. I really appreciate it.”

  I nodded, taking a step back. I curled my fingers into the palm of my hand, letting my nails dig into the skin, forcing myself not to ask any questions.

  “Tell your mom I said hi. Have a good one.” I waved and turned toward the inn, walking at a fast clip. I peeked over my shoulder before I opened the front door. He was still in the same spot, leaning on his truck, but he wasn’t watching the clouds anymore. He was watching me.

  My cheeks were still flushed when I walked up to Colt. He’d always been tall and burly, but in his uniform, he appeared even bigger. When he walked, his arms were several inches from his body to accommodate the heavy gun belt slung around his hips. The bulletproof vest made him larger, and the black boots, already shined to perfection this early in the morning, added to his already substantial height. I raised my hand and messed up his perfect hair. He knocked my hand out of the way.

  “Hey,” I said as he hung up his phone call. “I haven’t seen you in like two weeks.”

  He ran a hand over his face. “We’re investigating a string of robberies in the area, and I’m working a lot of overtime. Why didn’t you call me? I had to hear about Shayla from Mom?”

  “Maybe I was hoping that it was all a bad dream and would just disappear?”

  He shook his head. “Do you have the note?”

  I nodded and handed it over to him. It had been folded in my pocket since I’d taken it out from underneath the mattress except while Mom and Dad read it. I brought it everywhere with me, taking it out at random times to read it again even though, by now, I had the words memorized.

  “How’d I know you’d have it on you? How many times have you read this? The paper looks like it could tear apart and fly away if a breeze blows against it.”

  “Pretty sure I have memorized not only every word, but each cross out and swoop of the letters. I can’t stop looking at it. I’m scared she’s going to show up at any second. Here or at the school. Tuck and I were at the grocery store yesterday, and I swear I held my breath each time we turned down an aisle, like she was going to be standing there, just waiting for me.”

  “Do you have any ideas about where she could be? Y’all were thick as thieves growing up.”

  “You know I don’t. We haven’t seen her in years.”

  He blew out a frustrated breath. Even though Shayla had been closer to me, she’d still been like a sister to Colt. He’d taken her drug addiction the hardest, and I knew he’d have the most trouble forgiving her if she did come back into our lives. Colt saw the world in black and white and wasn’t fast to forgive. “I know, I know. Just trying to think of anything. I want to track her, but without even a thread of an idea, it’s like looking for a specific drop of water in the ocean. Fucking impossible. Where was the postmark on the envelope from?”

  I bit the side of my nail. A bad habit I’d broken as a kid that had come back with a vengeance these last few anxiety-filled days. “It wasn’t legible, but maybe you can see something I couldn’t. It’s back at the cottage though.”

  “Get that to me and maybe I can find something. Call me if you hear from her again. I’ve got to run, just wanted to take a look at the letter myself.”

  He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, bringing me in for a hug. He’d been the type of big brother that was always protective and there for me. “Thanks, Colt.”

  “Nothing is going to take Tuck away from you. I think you should find a lawyer and see what they say.”

  I hit my head against his chest. It bounced against the bulletproof vest hidden beneath his uniform. I rubbed the spot where my head had hit the thick vest. “I can’t believe this is happening. I want Shayla safe, but I don’t want her here. I know that makes me awful.”

  “It doesn’t. You’re his mom, there’s nothing a mom wouldn’t do for her child.”

  “She’s his mom too.”

  6

  Gunner

  I pulled up to a stoplight in the middle of town and unwrapped one of the breakfast burritos. The town hadn’t changed much in the past ten years, but there were a few new stores along Main Street and definitely a fresh coat of paint on each storefront. The chipped paint had been replaced by bright colors, and the brick walls were now covered in art.

  I turned my gaze forward, focusing on the street in front of me instead of the candy store on the corner. There were too many memories of going in there and buying Big Chew Gum with Declan and heading to the baseball fields at the park. I couldn’t handle that this morning.

  I took a large bite of the burrito and watched an elderly woman slowly cross the intersection. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Zeke, my agent.

  The ringing phone echoed through the speakers as I waited for him to answer. He picked up on the third ring. “Gunner.” The background was filled with noise and lots of chatter until I heard a click and then it was just him. “What’d the doctor say?”

  “I’m on my way to pick up my mom and then go to the doctor’s office. It doesn’t matter what they say though. I know what I want. Get me on the Austin Rattlers.”

  “They don’t need a center fielder. They have one.”

  “I’ll play right or left. I don’t care. Hell, I’ll be their designated hitter. Get me on that team. I need to be as close to my mom as I can this season.”

  “She’s going to beat this, Gunner.”

  I hit my fist against the steering wheel and raced through the intersection as the light turned green. I hadn’t even allowed the thought of her not beating this to pass through my head. “I know that, but I need to be here as much as I can. Austin is thirty minutes away. I can get to the stadium in forty-five minutes from my mom’s house. I want to be in Austin.”

  He sighed. A rhythmic tapping started in the background. He hit his pen against anything he could when he was thinking. “You’ll have to take less money.”

  “Like I give a fuck. It’ll still be enough to live on, still be more than I could probably spend.”

  “It’ll be less than what some other teams would pay. Significantly less. Millions less.”

  “I. Don’t. Care.” I enunciated each word carefully. “Find a way, man. I need to play clo
ser to home. Please. I know they have a center fielder, but I’m better. I’ll ride the pine though. I’ll play backup.”

  “You’re too good for that.”

  If Mom knew I was having this conversation, she’d have my hide. This was the reason she hadn’t told me in the first place. We’d worked hard to get to this point. My fucking dream was right in front of me on a silver platter, mine for the taking. Every door was open for me. I’d gone into this off-season thinking I’d take it, but now I needed something different.

  Every moment of my life had been leading up to this.

  “I work to be as good as I am. I train and try to be better every day.” I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and flicked the blinker with my other hand. “I worked this hard to have choices. You told me I would have my pick of teams this fall. My pick is the Rattlers. No one else. I need to be closer to home.”

  Zeke sighed. “I’ll make some calls.”

  “Thanks.” I hung up the phone as I swung into Mom’s driveway. She stood on the tiny porch of her tiny house. I’d have to duck my head to make it through the doorway and could barely turn a circle in her kitchen, but she’d loved every minute of living here.

  When I’d entered the Major League, the first thing I’d wanted to do, when money was deposited into my account, was set Mom up in a nice house, have her retire, and let her live the rest of her days comfortably doing whatever she wanted to do.

  She flat out refused and wouldn’t budge. She wouldn’t even let me buy this tiny house for her. She’d done it herself.

  I got out of the truck and walked around the hood to open the door for her. She patted my cheek as she passed me. “I knew I did something right with you.”

  “You did everything right.”

  “What’s that smell?” she asked as she got situated in her seat. I shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

  “Delilah gave me a couple of breakfast burritos and coffee. She says hi.”

  I put my arm on the seats and turned my head to back out of the driveway, and I pulled onto the street to head out of town toward Austin. At the insistence of Mom’s general doctor, she went to see an oncologist in the city.

  I looked at her out of the corner of my eye since she hadn’t answered me. She was turned toward me as fully as she could with the seatbelt restraining her and grinning like a damn lunatic. “What?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Delilah, huh? She’s the pretty girl from the inn, right? Have you been spending time with her?”

  I shook my head, rolled my eyes, and groaned. I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face though. “No. I ran into her this morning. She and her son live close, I guess, and she saw me walking out this morning. Offered me a ride on the golf cart and then offered us breakfast.”

  “She has a son?”

  “Yeah.”

  My mom clapped her hands. “Oh, if you fall in love with her, I could see you happy and with a little family. Nothing would make me happier. I do have cancer, you know. I just want to see you happy.”

  I slammed on the brakes, coming to a halt at a yellow light, and turned toward her. “Are you seriously pulling the cancer card on me right now?”

  She shrugged, unwrapping the burrito. “It’s got to come with some perks.”

  “How can you joke about this?”

  She looked up and reached across the console, cupping the side of my face. “Oh, my boy. This is when you should joke. Life is always going to throw its sickest curveball at you. You know this. Being able to laugh in the face of the heartache is the equivalent of hitting a grand slam in the bottom of the ninth during game seven of the World Series. Never stop laughing, even when it’s hard.”

  My shoulders stiffened with tension as we pulled into the doctor’s office parking lot. Mom leaped from the truck as soon as I parked, but my movements were much slower as I put my feet on the ground.

  I opened the front door for Mom and followed her inside the lobby. She quietly spoke with the receptionist as I looked around the space, inspecting every corner, nook, and cranny. The lobby was half full as women sat in chairs waiting for their names to be called. A few had scarves around their heads.

  Will Mom lose her hair?

  I turned my attention toward her and tried to inspect the thickness of it. Was it the same? Had it already started happening?

  I ran a hand over my face and plopped down onto a couch. A man with his hand on the knee of the woman next to him nodded at me and gave me a grim, sardonic smile.

  I nodded once and turned my gaze toward the window. Fall was turning the leaves bright red and yellow. I liked fall, but I always longed for the spring, when a baseball field was at its brightest.

  Mom sat next to me. “Since we’re squeezed in between patients, I’m not sure how long Dr. Michaels will be able to give us, but you’ll be able to meet him.”

  I cleared my throat and swallowed. My fingers played a fast rhythm against my knee. “How’s the wait when you come?”

  “Not too bad, but sometimes it can be a bit. Dr. Michaels is highly sought after, so his days are full.”

  “Are you Gunner Gentry?” I broke my gaze from Mom and turned toward the young voice. A little boy with an Austin Rattlers T-shirt stood in front of me with wide eyes.

  I cast my eyes above him and saw a woman paying at the counter, but she was looking at me and mouthing, Sorry.

  I smiled at her and turned back to the boy. “I am. Who’re you?”

  “I’m Mateo. You’re one of my favorite players even though you don’t play on my favorite team. Think you’ll ever join the Rattlers?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not too sure what the future holds, kid. You never know though.”

  He held his hands out in front of him. One was holding a pen, and the other was holding a crumpled piece of paper. “Can I have your autograph?”

  His mom came up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes connected with my mother’s, and they smiled at each other. This kid was going through the same thing I was, and somehow he was smiling and happy. If he could do it, I could too.

  “Sure.” I grabbed the paper from him and scrawled my name and jersey number. After I handed it back, I took my phone from the pocket of my dark-blue jeans and pulled up the notes app. “Ma’am, can you write Mateo’s first and last name and an e-mail address I can contact y’all at? How about I send you something,” I asked Mateo, “when I land on my new team?”

  His head nodded vigorously, and he bounced on the balls of his feet. “Give it to him, Mom.”

  My mom chuckled and patted the side of my cheek. Something she’d always done when she liked something I did or was proud in that moment. It was these little things that I wouldn’t be able to bear losing.

  Mateo’s mom handed the phone back to me with tears filling her eyes. Her hand went over her heart and her chin quivered as she spoke. “Thank you. That’s really kind of you. It means a lot. Thank you for brightening our day.”

  I nodded and gave her a smile. If I did get a contract with the Rattlers, I’d send them some game tickets. I stood and wrapped an arm around her in a quick side hug, speaking softly. “I don’t know if this is the right thing to say. I’m new at this, I just found out about my mom, so forgive me if I make an ass of myself. Good luck. I hope you feel better real soon. I promise to be in touch.”

  I released her from the hug and sank to a knee in front of Mateo. “Do you play ball?”

  He nodded.

  “Never stop having fun. It’s the greatest game in the world.”

  He launched his little body at me, wrapping his arms around my neck. I swayed backward as I caught him and hugged him back. “Can’t wait to send you something, bud.”

  I stood and he and his mom turned to leave. I sat once they walked out the door, and I turned toward my mom, speaking quietly. I knew people in the lobby were staring now. I could see two phones, out of the corner of my eye, snapping pictures of me. I looked over my should
er to make sure no one was behind me before I spoke.

  “I called Zeke. I asked him to get me on the Rattlers. It’s time I come home for good.”

  My mom’s breath hitched, and I could see her brain working as she slowly turned to me. Her eyebrows rose before she narrowed her eyes. “Gunner Thomas Gentry,” she hissed through her teeth.

  Shit. “Mom. Just hear me out.”

  “I will do no such thing. This is your dream. Everything you’ve ever worked for, and you’re going to sacrifice it for what? To be closer to your sick mother?”

  “Why is that a bad thing?”

  “Because you can’t give up your life for this. You can’t run away from it. It is what it is, and now the only thing we can do is what is best for us. And what is best for you is finding a way onto the best team for you. If that’s the Rattlers, I’ll happily accept it. I’d love to come to every home game and cheer you on. If it’s a team farther from here—if it’s in Canada—then that’s where you’re going. End of discussion.”

  “But—”

  “No,” she hissed, raising a finger. “I don’t care how old or big you are, Gunner Gentry, I’m your mom and I will still ground you.”

  I cracked up. I covered my mouth to smother some of the noise, but I couldn’t stop. “Glad to see the cancer can’t take any of your fire.”

  “You’re goddamn right it can’t. I’m Jenna Gentry. Just where do you think you learned it from, boy?”

  “Mrs. Gentry.”

  The laughter died in my throat, and my head popped up to look at the nurse waiting for us. I slowly stood and followed my mom past the pine door, trudging behind the nurse as she led us to a small conference room. There was a small rectangular table set up in the corner with an automatic coffee machine and a small stack of Styrofoam cups, with red stirring sticks next to it.

  In the middle of the room was a circular table, with six black leather chairs, and a computer monitor on a rolling cart. On one wall was the light board where doctors hung X-rays.

  “Please take a seat, the doctor will be with you shortly,” the nurse said.