Dani filled up her mug then walked over to join him. As she did, an image flashed in her head, of the two of them sitting side by side in the center of it. Back then, her eleven-year-old Jeremy had acted like it was the fanciest, most comfortable couch ever created. She’d been feeling like she had finally turned the corner from Brian’s death. As if she was finally going to survive on her own.
Though she knew that every moment couldn’t feel so sweet, the fact that they were sitting back on it together, feeling everything opposite, was hard.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on, son.”
He stiffened. “You know, Mom.”
“Well, I know my side of it. However, I’d rather hear your side right now.” When he still didn’t say anything, she tried again. “Please, Jeremy? I promise, I’m on your side here.”
At last Jeremy held up the phone in his hand. “I started getting texts late last night. All about how half the guys’ dads on the team were at Mr. Holland’s house playing poker.”
“Okay.”
“At first, I kept wondering why I was supposed to care. I mean, everyone knows about Mr. Holland’s poker games and the Bridgeport Social Club.”
She took another sip of coffee to fortify herself. “But then?”
“But then Scott from the Bats texted everyone, saying that he heard the tournament was because of me.”
“He said that?” She felt like everything inside of her was crushed.
“Yeah. He said a couple of dads had been telling their wives that last night’s poker game wasn’t just for fun, it was for a good cause.”
“Oh, boy.”
Jeremy continued, each word coming out stiff and full of pain. “Mom, everyone was talking about how there was a kid who had a lot of talent, but his mom didn’t have a lot of money. His single, widowed mom.”
She couldn’t deny that pretty much summed up their situation. “And?”
“And then everyone figured out that the kid was me, Mom.” He looked at her again, his brown eyes cloudy with pain.
“You’re right. It is you. You don’t have a lot of money, and I don’t have a lot of money. Not enough to pay for select ball.”
“So you started asking a bunch of guys to make me their charity case?” Before she could respond, he shook his head. “I can’t believe you did this to me.”
“I didn’t do it. When we went over to Mr. Holland’s house last week, Jackson told me that the guys wanted to do that for you.”
“You mean for you. Jackson likes you, Mom.”
“No, I mean for you.” Setting her mug on the table next to the couch, Dani turned to face him. “I had no idea they’d planned it. It took me off guard, I can tell you that.”
“But you still said okay.”
Boy, he wasn’t going to give her an inch. His indignation was starting to grate on her nerves, too. “I said okay after they talked to me about it. The guys were excited about it, Jeremy. None of them grew up rich and they all felt like it was a way of giving back. You know, like paying it forward.”
“It’s a stupid way for them to do it. You all ruined my life.”
“I don’t know what happened. They weren’t supposed to use either your name or mine.”
“Even if they didn’t, everyone figured it out,” Jeremy said bitterly. “You should have told me about this tournament, Mom.”
“I realize that now. I guess I was just hoping that you would never know about it.”
“I don’t even understand why you felt we needed help. I mean, the fees weren’t that bad. It was only a couple of hundred dollars, right?”
“It was more than that. You know I was working nonstop to pay for it. And I hadn’t even thought about the traveling expenses. Jackson knew it was too much for me.”
“You should have told me,” he said again.
“But what could you have done?”
“Quit.” His chin lifted. “You should’ve said I didn’t need to be on the team.”
She shook her head. “You deserve to be on the team. You like being on the team. It didn’t make me feel real comfortable, but I can’t deny that I’m glad you didn’t have to quit.”
“I’m going to quit now.”
“You better not.”
“All the guys are giving me crap. Saying that I’m not that good.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes. You really are. You know you are good. The coach tells you. Jackson said so, too.”
“Here we go again. You trying to forget Dad. My life isn’t all about Jackson, Mom.”
Oh, that hurt. “Jeremy, I’ve been trying to understand your pain and embarrassment and give you your due. But you just crossed the line.”
He had the gall to roll his eyes. “What line?”
“The line that means you need to watch your mouth when you speak to your mother,” she said with as much control in her voice as she could grasp ahold of. “The point where you start talking about things that you don’t know anything about.”
“I know you are forgetting Dad.”
“You know that isn’t true. I still think about him every day.”
He surged to his feet. “We both know that isn’t true, Mom. You hardly talk about Dad anymore. It’s all about Jackson and Kate.” His eyes flashed. “You’ve moved on, Mom. All you care about is yourself. And right now I’m really sick of it.”
Before she could figure out how to respond to that, he headed toward the door.
“Jeremy, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to go get a job. I’ll be back later.”
Everything inside of her was screaming for him to come back and talk to her.
But instead she let him go.
Probably because there was a part of her that wondered if he had been right.
CHAPTER 32
From Les Larke’s
You, Too, Can Host
a Poker Tourney:
Besides the money factor, there are many reasons why people like to attend a tournament. The best reason might be camaraderie.
Seth had just gotten out of his car and was stretching for a quick three-mile run when he saw Jeremy Brown storm out of an apartment building nearby. Since he’d gone to the poker tournament the night before, the boy had been on his mind. Just as he was about to tell him congratulations, he noticed Jeremy looked beyond pissed off. Almost like he was about to explode.
When the kid stopped next to a light post and seemed to have trouble catching his breath, Seth knew he couldn’t just ignore him. Someone needed to help. “Hey, are you okay?”
Straightening, the boy stared at him in confusion. “Seth?”
“Yeah. We met a couple of weeks ago in this very parking lot.”
“I remember.”
“Maybe you remember that I’m Gen Schuler’s guy?” Seth figured he sounded kind of stupid, but he didn’t want the kid to think he was some guy hanging out in the parking lot.
“Oh. Yeah. Hi.” He stuffed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and took a step away. Everything about the kid told Seth that he wanted to be anywhere but talking to him.
Seth didn’t blame him and would have left him alone … if he hadn’t noticed that Jeremy’s eyes were red from crying. “I was just getting ready to go for a run when I saw you tear out of that apartment building. Is everything okay? Hey, do you need a ride to a game or something?”
To Seth’s surprise, the kid turned beet red. “I’m not going to play ball anymore.”
Seth raised his eyebrows. “Um, you sure about that? Because I heard different last night.”
“Oh yeah? Where?”
It was a fair question. He realized now that he was being pretty damn rude, too. Jeremy didn’t know him, and Kurt Holland had said last night that they didn’t want to divulge the name of the boy who they were all helpin
g. Seth only knew who they were playing for because of Gen. Backpedaling, he said, “I don’t know. Maybe Jackson?”
Jeremy’s eyes narrowed, and a new tension rose between them. Seth knew why—the kid knew he was lying. “Never mind. I’ve got to go.”
Seth knew he probably should let the kid go. They didn’t know each other, and Seth had enough problems without making Jeremy’s problems his, too.
But everything he and Gen had gone through lately had taught him a lot about communication. He’d learned that even bad news was better than silence.
And, truth be told, maybe he was viewing some of the same hurt and confusion on Jeremy’s face that he’d been feeling for the last couple of weeks. He couldn’t just ignore that. “Look, I know you probably do have things to do. But give me a sec, okay?”
It was obvious that Jeremy was torn between the good manners that his momma taught him and walking off. “What do you want?”
“I just wanted you to know that if you want to share what’s on your mind, I’m probably as good a person as any to share it with.”
“Why would you say that?”
Suspicion was ripe in his tone, but the boy wasn’t going anywhere. Seth took that as a positive sign.
Folding his arms over his chest, he replied, “Because you don’t have to worry about me still liking you or not when we’re done talking.”
Jeremy’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”
“Uh, yeah. Serious as a heart attack. You’ve obviously got something you’re worried about. It’s been my experience that means your problem is with someone close to you. Am I wrong?”
One second passed. Then two. “No.”
“Well, then, what’s wrong? And you might as well tell someone because I know from experience that keeping it inside can eat you up.”
Jeremy looked around the parking lot, pausing a second or two at the door he exited. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. But do we have to talk here?”
“We can talk wherever you want. Where do you want to go?”
“The bike trail. It’s just on the other side of these apartments. We won’t be standing here in the middle of everything.”
Or, Seth figured, in view of the apartment he just ran out of. “Lead the way.”
Jeremy shook his head. “You sure got an accent. It’s even thicker than Jackson’s.”
“That’s ’cause Jackson hails from West Virginia. I’m from Texas, boy.”
“I thought all of you would sound the same.”
“If you think that, it’s obvious that you need to travel a whole lot more. But, for the record, this is how we all sound.”
The boy didn’t say anything, but his lips twitched. Seth exhaled in relief as they started walking. They were making progress. After they crossed the pavement, he followed Jeremy when he turned left and started walking.
Immediately, they were surrounded by thick foliage. While most of the trees in the area were still gathering their leaves, the bushes and grasses lining both sides of the trail were already thick with new growth. The ground below them was damp. Though there were a couple of bike riders off in the distance, for the most part they were alone.
“This is awesome. Do you come here a lot?”
Jeremy shook his head. “Nah.”
“So …”
“So, a bunch of people in town held a poker tournament last night to raise money for me.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Jackson invited me to play.”
“So you went?”
“I did. It was a good time.”
Jeremy’s hands clenched by his side. “Great.”
Seth’s heart hurt for him. “Hey, instead of telling me what I already know, why don’t you share what I don’t. What’s been going on with you?”
“Fine. I don’t have a dad. He’s dead. I only got my mom and she’s not a fancy mom, okay? She’s a maid.” He eyed Seth again, practically daring him to joke about losing his dad and not having a lot of money.
Seth wouldn’t dare do that. “All right. So, you’ve had your fair share of hardships.”
“I wanted to get on a select baseball team, okay? The Bridgeport Bats.”
“Sounds like a good opportunity.”
“It was. And I was plenty good enough to get on it, too. But, well, it just costs a lot to be on it.” Looking down at his feet, he mumbled, “I realized it, too, but I didn’t care.”
“’Cause you wanted to be on it. There’s nothing wrong with that, Jeremy.”
“Yeah. But I should have known better.” He pursed his lips, then added, “My mom was working a ton and driving me around all the time and stressing about it so this group of guys, of men, decided to help her out.”
“How come?”
“I just told you.”
“No, you said that you were good. You wanted to play, and your mom was doing everything she could to make sure you could do that. You didn’t say why these guys wanted to help you. You know, instead of some other kid.” “Oh. Because one of them likes my mom.”
“Jackson.”
“Yeah.”
“Huh. So because Jackson likes your mom and she was running herself ragged trying to make sure you could play on this expensive, special baseball team, he organized a poker tournament to raise money to help her out.”
“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded. “They did all this without talking to me about it, too.”
“Ah.”
“Yep. So, now you see why I’m pissed off.”
“Sorry, but I don’t,” Seth said slowly. He paused, wondering if he was about to be too harsh, but decided to power on through. “Jeremy, I’ve liked a lot of women over the years. Never once did I decide to hold a poker tournament so I could get into her pants.”
Jeremy stopped and gaped at him. “That’s my mom. Don’t talk about her like that.”
“Then don’t act like that’s what happened,” he retorted. “For you to act like that’s what your mother was willing to do so you could play baseball is wrong. And so is acting like Jackson has nothing better to do than persuade a whole lot of grown men to give up their money and time for a kid they don’t know.”
Jeremy’s hands clenched, and his expression looked pained as they continued walking.
Seth decided to keep quiet and let him stew for a while. He felt bad for the kid, but he would have felt worse for him if all evidence pointed to the fact that no one cared about him. It was obvious that a whole lot of people cared about him an awful lot.
After they walked another quarter mile or so, Jeremy said, “What do you think I should do?”
“I don’t really know you. You sure as hell don’t know me. I’m thinking that maybe my advice ain’t going to mean much.”
“It might not, but I still want to know what you think.”
“Well then, here’s what I think, and you can feel free to take it or leave it.” He glanced down and met the boy’s eyes. “You need to accept the fact that your mother loves you enough to work nonstop so you can play ball on the team that you deserve to play on. Then you need to accept the fact that Jackson cares for you both enough to try to help y’all out, and not by giving a handout, either.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that a lot of people simply could’ve handed your momma a couple of hundreds and gone on with their lives. Jackson found a way to try to help y’all in a way that maybe you both could live with.”
Jeremy nodded. “All right.”
Seth paused, wondering if he was about to make a mistake, then dived in. “Finally, here’s the hardest part.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re going to have to wrap your head around the fact that your mom and you don’t have a lot of money for extras and that’s just how it is. That’s nothing to be ashamed
of.”
“The guys on the team are—”
“Going to know that your dad died and that your mother has to work really hard. There’s only one thing you can do about it, and that’s to give them something else to talk about.”
“Which is?”
“Play baseball. Be so good that the other players won’t care how you came to afford the hotel rooms and the uniforms. All they’ll care about is whether or not you are pitching.”
“Or catching. I’m a catcher.”
“Does that mean you aren’t going to pitch a fit and embarrass your mother and make all those guys who are feeling pretty good about themselves regret their decision?”
“I wasn’t pitching a fit.”
“But?”
The kid smiled. “But I’m going to play ball.”
“Good.”
“Hey, Seth?”
“Yeah?”
“I left my apartment so I could go get a job. Do you think I still should do that?” His voice was hesitant. Like he wanted to do the right thing, but he wasn’t even sure what the right thing was anymore.
Boy, could he relate. Stepping carefully, he said, “Seems to me if you are going to school and playing on this fancy team and traveling during the season you aren’t going to have a lot of extra time.”
Jeremy’s shoulders slumped. “I guess not.”
“That said, I did hear that Kurt Holland has a landscaping business. Maybe when you go thank him you could see if he could give you some work from time to time.”
“Do you really think he’d do that?”
“I think you won’t know if he will or not if you don’t ask.”
“Yeah. I’ll do that.” He stopped then. “I think I better turn around and go see my mom.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
After they turned and started walking back, Seth let his mind drift to everything that had kept him up last night. Gen and their argument. The way he’d assumed the worst. The pain that he’d spied in her eyes and the way she’d cried and he’d stood helplessly to the side because she didn’t trust him anymore.
It had been obvious that he’d handled things the wrong way. But, like Jeremy, he’d been embarrassed that she’d seen the worst of him. He also had to face the fact that he was still going to make his fair share of mistakes … and because of that it was about time he started making his fair share of apologies.
Hold on Tight Page 21
