Oregon is in all lime green with yellow accents, their big duck mascot is across their chests. Kiernan’s team is wearing their all-black uniforms with gold piping. I love the all-black.
Cambria is the home team, so they take the field first.
“She’s the shortstop, huh?” Rhett acknowledges. I was a shortstop before I quit baseball to focus on football. I also had a 92-mile-per-hour fastball when I had to pitch. I probably could have played baseball in college, but football was my one true love – until I met Kiernan.
“Of course she is. Best athlete on the field,” I reply proudly.
Kiernan glances up at me as the first batter approaches the plate. I wink and blow her a little kiss. She needs to know I’m hers. That Whittier and Rhett aren’t going to affect anything between them. She smiles and winks back at me. Then she glances at Rhett and Whittier and her eyes narrow. I’ve seen that look before. Oregon is fucked.
Chapter 24: Kiernan
Rhett wants to play? I can play.
He is trying to intimidate me. Little does he know, I thrive in these situations when I’m on the field. All he did was ensure an Oregon loss.
Sawyer is pitching this game. The lead-off batter for Oregon slaps the ball toward the hole between me and third base. I slide over, backhand the ball, pop up and gun out the runner at first base. The crowd goes crazy. The lead-off hitter for Oregon is their best player. We record the next two outs, a fly out to Blaire in left and a fly out to centerfield.
Our turn to hit. I know their catcher doesn’t stand a chance if I can get on base, so I need to keep the ball on the ground. Their third baseman is good, but their shortstop isn’t fast enough to throw me out. I slap the ball toward short, just out of reach of the pitcher and third baseman, who was creeping up, anticipating a bunt. I’m easily safe at first. Brooks, the boys, his brothers, and my parents are all on their feet. Just a single, calm down.
Now the fun begins. I decided to steal on the first pitch. I’m not concerned about this catcher. Even if she knew I was stealing, she couldn’t throw me out. I want to shove it in Rhett’s face. I’m off on the pitch and I slide into second base safely. It wasn’t even close. Cheers erupt again. Oh, I’m not done yet. I peek in at the catcher’s signs. Blaire steps in and the catcher shifts outside. Not Blaire’s favorite pitch, so I know she won’t swing. I’m going to go. Fuck it. The pitcher throws a drop ball and I’m off. The catcher slides on her knees to block it, gets a clean bounce and fires it to third. I slide on the far side of the base, the side closest to left field. The girl playing third catches the throw, but I’m already sliding safely past her tag. Easy peasy. Cheers blast through the stadium as the umpire signals I’m safe.
Coach Richardson, who’s coaching third base, high-fives me. “Any reason you’re on a mission today, Kelly?”
“Just want to beat Oregon.” I smile.
“Sure.” He laughs. He knows about Brooks – everyone knows about Brooks. “I’ve seen that look in your eye before. What are you thinking?”
“Coach, I’ve been wanting to delay-steal home. This pitcher can’t throw overhand, we know that. What do you say?”
“Are you kidding me?” He shakes his head.
“Nope. Blaire will get on if I don’t make it. Duncan will hit her in. This pitcher is garbage. We’ll win even if I don’t score. I have it all planned out.” I smile. “But I will fucking score.”
“It’s a momentum thing, KK,” he begins but pauses to study the look on my face. “You really think you can make it?”
“Hell yes I do.” I dig my cleat into the dirt.
“Well screw it. It’s the spring trip. Let’s give it a whirl,” he affirms and pats me on my helmet.
I study the catcher’s body position. I need to steal on an outside pitch so she’s further away from me. A delay steal means I’ll take off for home when the catcher throws it back to the pitcher. Since the pitcher can’t throw overhand, she’ll have to beat me home on foot, which won’t happen, or she’ll actually have to throw it. If she throws it, there’s a 50/50 shot it won’t be a good enough throw for the catcher to tag me out.
Blaire is up in the count, two balls to one strike. The pitcher’s best pitch is her curveball. The catcher’s mitt shifts outside and I glance up at Coach Richardson. “Now,” I whisper.
I take my lead. It’s a little bigger than normal, but not so big it will draw the catcher’s attention. My heart is racing. Don’t swing, Blaire, don’t swing. She doesn’t. It’s a strike, and the catcher stands, checks me at third, and tosses the ball toward the pitcher. I take off. “GOING!” I hear their bench yell. The sound startles their pitcher and catcher, who don’t expect me to steal home. I don’t know what happens after that, because I’m not looking at the pitcher. My eyes are on home plate. The catcher moves toward the left handed batter’s box. The pitcher’s throw must be off line. I slide in short and pop up right on the plate so I don’t slide past it into the catcher, who is diving toward me to try to tag me out.
“SAFE!” the umpire shouts as she sweeps her arms from her chest straight out parallel to the ground.
My team is going fucking crazy, and so is the crowd. I just stole home, which is incredibly rare in college softball. Brooks and the boys, John and Monica, Brett and Bo, are all on their feet cheering like crazy. Rhett and Whittier are sitting, silent. Eat shit, Rhett.
We win the game, eight to two. We played well and I dominated. I should have Rhett come to all the games. I played with a chip on my shoulder, and I didn’t hold anything back this game, even though we were playing a lesser team.
We gather our stuff and head out of the dugout. Once Coach Richardson dismisses us, I run to find my family and friends, who are waiting in a shady spot outside of the stadium. I leap into Brooks’ arms and scream like a little girl. His smile stretches across his face. This is such an unusual behavior for me. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline from the game I just played, the presence of Whittier, or Rhett’s threats, but I don’t care if the whole world knows I’m in love with Brooks McCarthy.
I slide down Brooks’ body and stand to look up into his ice-blue eyes.
“What’s gotten into you?” he laughs.
“I don’t know! I’m just so happy.”
“Yeah, obviously,” Blaire elbows me.
“That was a helluva game, baby girl,” John chirps and playfully punches me in the arm.
“I can’t believe it, my dear. I just simply can’t believe it. You are spectacular!” Monica offers as she cups my cheeks. She’s beaming. She hasn’t seen me play since I was about twelve years old.
“Mom, it’s so good to have you here.” I hug her longer than normal because it feels like an eternity since we’ve all been together.
“I’m sorry, KK. I’m better now. I promise. I’m so sorry I missed so much of your life because I didn’t have mine together.” For the first time in a long time, there’s life behind her eyes.
“We’re sorry,” John adds. “Your mother and I spent a lot of time together after I got back from Atlanta. That whole incident with Rhett put life into perspective for me. I missed a lot of precious time with both of you.”
“We realized where the disconnect in our relationship began,” my mother adds. “My jealousy and irrationality, my mood swings. His inability to back down when I needed him to be softer with my emotions. We visited a marriage counselor and my therapist prescribed some new medications. With a combination of all those things, we’re better. We’re not perfect, but we’re happier than we have been in the last decade. And we owe it all to you and Brooks.” She smiles and nods toward Brooks.
“Mom.” I can’t find the words. Blaire has tears in her eyes. She knows what my family life has been like. Brooks is smiling. He knows what this means for my trust issues, and so do I. “I don’t know what to say. I'm just so happy.” I can’t believe we’re airing all of this out in front of everyone. We do public therapy better than anyone.
“Well, that makes o
ne of us,” Whittier snaps as she and Rhett approach.
“Why are you still here?” Brooks rolls his eyes and asks both of them.
“Just waiting for you to make the right decision.” Whittier flashes a sly smile toward me while she answers Brooks. Decision about what, I wonder?
Brooks rolls his eyes and turns to his dad. “Why, Dad? Just quit already.”
“Yes, Rhett, quit already,” a smooth, sultry southern voice coos from behind us. A beautiful woman, dressed in navy and white pinstripe linen pants, a white sleeveless shirt with a summer cape, and navy blue wedge heels saunters towards us. She is tall, very tall. Why is everyone so fucking tall? Her long, sandy blonde hair is curled into beachy waves, her stunning blue eyes have silver flecks in the irises, and she flashes us the brightest smile I have ever seen.
“Mom?” Brooks asks, completely stunned.
Rhea Winthrop McCarthy. Holy shit. I’ve seen her in pictures, and then on ESPN the night Brooks won the Heisman, but she’s much more stunning in person. She also looks very sober. Very lucid.
I can’t believe this is all happening outside of the softball complex. We have these family confrontations in the most obscure places. I almost chuckle at the thought.
“I’m done. And so are you,” Rhett snaps as he grabs Whittier by the arm. “We’re leaving.” Rhea’s arrival has turned Rhett. Something has shifted, and he’s no longer in control because she’s here. Her presence clearly makes him uncomfortable and anxious. I wonder what she has on him.
“Wha—“ Whittier whines. “Why? I thought we had a deal, Rhett!”
“A deal?” Rhea questions. “This is my son’s life, Rhett. Stop trying to control everything. You’re screwing everything up.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Rhea,” he retorts, trying to show some strength.
“Oh, I most certainly do.” She tsks and glares at Rhett. “Brooksy,” she coos as she turns toward him and kisses him on the cheek. “Bo told me about John’s apology in Atlanta and I overheard Monica’s as I was walking up, I’m going to give mine a go, if that’s okay.”
Brett and Bo give each other a look. Brooks misses it, but I saw it. They did this. Rhea wouldn’t have known where we were or what was happening with Rhett. That’s why they came back with Rhett and Whittier. Why did they endure all of this? It wasn’t because they were supporting him, they were working out their plan. Fucking geniuses. I give them a nod and they both subtly nod in return.
Chapter 24: Brooks Again
My mom is here. My mom is here. I’m so confused. I didn’t think this day could get any worse, or better, or worse again after Rhett and Whittier showed up. Now my mom is here. How the hell did she find us? I hope she’s sober. She seems very put together – not at all like the train wreck dad has described all these years.
“Brooksy?” she asks again, because I haven’t answered her.
“What? Oh, yeah, go ahead,” I reply. She’s apologizing? Well, whatever. I might as well hear her out. If John and Monica can get their shit together, maybe we can too.
“Well, it has been brought to my attention,” Rhea begins in her beautiful southern drawl, “that there have been some issues and miscommunication regarding my lifestyle and our relationship, Brooksy. I am so sorry for what you have felt over the past few years. For the record, I have never missed one of your games.”
“Wait, what?” I’m shocked back into reality. Kiernan’s jaw drops. I told her about my issues with Rhea and her drinking. She was here all along? WTF?
“Rhea,” Rhett interrupts in a low growl. “You don’t need to do this now.” He’s angry? Scared? Something is off. He’s nervous about what my mom is going to say.
“I absolutely do, my dear husband,” she sneers and sarcastically emphasizes her last words. “I have been at every single game. If I couldn’t travel to where you were playing on the road, I watched it on TV. I am and always have been your biggest fan, darlin’. I was in New Orleans. I was at the national championship. I didn’t leave after your Heisman ceremony like you assumed.”
“But Mom,” I try to interject but she holds up her hand.
“I am not done, my darlin’.” She smiles and touches my arm.
Kiernan can’t tear her eyes away from my mom. I wonder what she’s thinking of all this. Rhea seems so different from the woman I described to her not long ago. My brothers don’t look surprised by any of this. Did they invite her here to finish this?
“I need to address the elephant in the room, and from what I heard, these come to Jesus moments really work for our families.” She smiles her polite southern belle smile. “I developed a problem as you boys grew up. That’s no secret.” She gestures toward me, Brett and Bo. “But I love you all. I loved being a football mom in the fall, basketball mom in the winter, and baseball mom in the spring. You boys were my life, until…”
She lets out a long sigh and closes her eyes, but she continues. Everyone is hanging on her every word.
“Until I was informed that I was not needed. You and your brothers didn’t need me anymore. The alcohol and the shopping numbed me. Dulled the sadness momentarily of you not wanting me in your life. And all the noise that came with being Rhett’s wife,” she continues as her eyes glaze over with tears. Noise? What kind of noise? My parents had a perfect marriage, at least on the outside.
“But Mom,” I try again, but again she cuts me off.
“It wasn’t healthy, but that is how I coped. It became a problem by the time Brooksy was a junior in high school. I was hiding behind a mask. There were so many things that were happening, and I did not handle myself properly. So while I was craving to be in your life, my actions were pushing you further away. After you graduated, my love, I quit drinking.”
“You did?” I ask.
“Bullshit,” Rhett snaps. He is seething.
“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” Rhea tells Rhett. “I am not embarrassed. This was your fault, not mine.” She turns to him. “And you know damn well I have not had a drop to drink in almost four years.”
She turns back to me. “Darlin’, I am sober. I swear it. I know I was an embarrassment for you and your brothers in high school. I’ve made my amends with them, and I want to do the same with you if I can. A person close to us,” she glances over to Rhett, “fed me some information that I allowed to become a reality. That information has kept us apart for far too long. I now have it on good authority that the information I received was false, and it kills me that I missed so much.”
“What information?” I am so confused. I look at Rhett, who has steam coming from his ears. Bo and Brett are smiling.
“Well, I was told that you were embarrassed by me. That I had done irrevocable damage to our relationship, and that you didn’t want to see me. It wasn’t hard for me to believe. I was a mess when you were in high school, and I likely did embarrass you. I know you were embarrassed when I joined the cheer squad at one of your games while I was intoxicated. So, the lies were easy to believe. I was weak-minded and easily fooled. I was dependent on Rhett and alcohol. That is a deadly combination. It wasn’t until Brett and Bo told me the truth when we returned home from Atlanta that I realized Rhett tried to keep us apart so he could control you. He was the puppet master. I’m sorry I was weak. They told me about New Orleans and what Rhett did to Kiernan.” She turns to Kiernan. “I’m sorry, my dear, for all of that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help. To protect you. But lies from the same convincing voice put me into a similar position. I’m grateful you and my son never stopped fighting for each other. That is a gift. He is a gift.” Kiernan smiles and nods appreciatively at my mom, and Rhea turns back to me.
“I understand what happened to Kiernan. It happened to me too. He and I didn’t see eye to eye on what your lives should be.” She looks at my brothers again. “I wanted you all to find lovely girls to marry and give me some grandbabies. He did not want you distracted with that ‘nonsense,’ and he did what he could to control the situat
ion. I never wanted to be away from you. I wanted so badly to celebrate your successes and be a support system during the hard times. So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t fight back. I will be much stronger from now on.” Her eyes dart to Rhett with that last statement, and there’s an unspoken significance to those words. “I can promise you that. I love you.”
“Mom,” I begin with tears in my eyes. I don’t have the words. This is too much to process outside of a softball complex. Rhett fucking ruined her like he did Kiernan’s. He ruined my relationship with my own mother because he didn’t want her kind heart influencing me. He is manipulative and cunning. “I love you too,” is all I can muster through the hurt and the anger.
“This is un-fucking-believable!” Rhett exclaims, throwing his arms up in the air. “Rhea, are you drunk?”
“Leave her alone, Dad!” Brett explodes. “You’re a fucking liar. You lie, manipulate and lie some more to get what you want and control us. We’re done with it. All of us.”
“Give me my ring.” Rhea eyes my dad’s pocket, which is stretched in an awkward square shape.
“I bought it,” he snaps.
“You did no such thing! Stop lying, Rhett! God, aren’t you tired of it by now?” she asks, totally incensed. “That ring belonged to my grandmother, Clara. She gave it to my dad, who proposed to my mother, Annabelle, with it. Brooks’ Papa and Nana Winthrop were wonderfully generous people.” She smiles at Kiernan. “That ring has been in the Winthrop family for generations, and Papa Winthrop always wanted his namesake to have it.”
I look at Brett and Bo. That ring is worth a half a million dollars easily. Bo is the oldest. This ring should be his technically.
“That stunner is gonna look huge on KK’s little finger.” Bo says with a smile.
“You sure, bro?”
“One hundred percent. Papa wanted you to have it,” he replies.
“You were always Nana’s favorite, you suck up,” Brett chips in and laughs.
“Now, Whittier,” she commands. “I’m not sure why you’re here. Why are you on spring break with my husband?”
Exception (Cambria University Series Book 1) Page 30