“He can’t hurt me,” Quinn protested, and tried to pull away. Anna held tight to his hand. When she looked deep into his eyes she saw the pain of betrayal, the hurt that went beyond a few comments on a sports show. “He stopped doing that a long time ago. But he still believes he’s the reason why I’m playing baseball.”
“You’re a successful pitcher because of your talent and hard work.” She stroked her hands over his morning beard. “All he did was bully you.”
“He made me the man I am today.”
“No. You made yourself into a man that people admire and respect.” She choked back the words of love that wanted to spill free. “No one who knows you would ever believe you shortchanged your rehabilitation.”
He sighed as his phone again rang. “I’m going to have to issue a statement. The team might want to arrange a press conference. I’ll do whatever I can to keep you out of this.”
“You do what you have to.”
She kissed him, knowing he would do everything possible to protect her reputation. Too bad there was no way for either of them to protect her heart.
“I should call my mother,” she said.
“Anna.”
He stood with her, took her hands in his and absently rubbed his thumb over the bracelet he’d given her. She could stand many things, she even believed she would survive losing him. But she absolutely could not withstand hearing any apologies or promises.
“Quinn, none of this is your fault.” Before he could answer, a knock on the door interrupted them.
“Answer it,” she told him. “I really should call my mother.”
An hour later she’d not only spoken with her mother, but had sat in on a conversation with two of the three billionaire owners of the Bucks baseball team. She found them to be sympathetic to the invasion of her privacy and staunch supporters of limiting her involvement in any public comments or appearances.
The decision was made for the owners to announce at a press conference later that day that Quinn would start the first game of a weekend home stand in two weeks, exactly as had already been scheduled. Anna struggled with relief at knowing she’d have him in her life a little longer against the misery of knowing it would make no difference. She couldn’t regret her relationship with Quinn, and would always cherish the memories.
Which was why she wasn’t prepared to say goodbye.
Chapter 8
Quinn drew in a quiet breath, and stretched into his windup. He zoned out the photographers, the coaches, even his teammates on the field behind him. With a focus that had been with him almost from the beginning, he threw a circle change that echoed with a satisfying smack into the center of the catcher’s mitt. He didn’t need an umpire’s call to know it was a strike.
One week after his stepfather tried to once again muscle his way into his life, Quinn missed Anna more than he had expected. He understood he’d needed to stay away from her in order to keep the attention on him and his baseball career as well as protect her privacy as much as possible. Of course, the media people were also counting on garnering as much publicity as they could for Quinn’s return to pitching in a game.
But all of that faded as he threw from the mound. Damn it felt good.
An hour later he’d completed his pitching session, and was relaxing in the whirlpool with his arm iced. He wasn’t the only player in the training room hoping ice or hot water would ease aches enough to play the next day.
“Hey, Lancaster.” Joey, a security guard, stuck his head in the doorway. “There’s someone here who wants to talk to you. Claims she’s your mother.”
“That’s not possible,” someone yelled out with a laugh as Quinn’s relaxed muscles went rigid. “Lancaster was picked out from under a rock.” Several more jokes were tossed around the room like fly balls as Quinn slowly rose from the whirlpool.
“I’ll be right there,” he said.
“I’ll see that she’s comfortable in one of the upstairs conference rooms,” Joey said, referring to offices overlooking the field.
Quinn didn’t rush to get dressed, he refused to do so. He had questions about his mother’s sudden and mysterious appearance. He also had reservations about the timing.
However, when he stepped up to the doorway of the conference room, all he felt was the bond they’d once shared.
She stood at the wall of windows. Her hair was grayer than he recalled, her frame thinner beneath the simple dress of navy blue. He had an instant of panic, wondering if she was sick.
“Mom.”
She turned. Quinn wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but the fear in her eyes took him by surprise.
“Quinn.” She pressed her lips together, as if trying to control her nerves. “I wasn’t sure if you would see me or not.”
There had once been a time when it was just the two of them. Quinn, now an adult, could better understand how hard it must have been for a seventeen year old girl to face the reality of single motherhood. Still, he remembered that while times had been lean, they’d always gotten along, and had always found a way to handle whatever came their way. When she married Richard Clark their lives had become easier, at least materially. But, for a variety of reasons, they grew apart.
Even now it felt as if a physical barrier kept them separated by more than the width of a room.
On the other hand, how many times had he watched Anna and Lillian? The two women had their different outlooks, both had confided that to him, and yet they maintained a strong bond. They’d also included him within their circle of respect, friendship and love.
“I’m not the one who wanted the distance between us.”
Marilyn Lancaster Clark winced. “I deserve that. I’ve let Richard define too much of my relationship with you.”
“You chose him over me.”
“No.” She bit down on her bottom lip. “Yes, I suppose I did,” she said, her voice soft.
“Are you sick?”
“No. That’s not why I came.”
“You came because of what he said in the press.”
“No, well, yes, but not the way you’re thinking.” She lifted her chin as she straightened her shoulders. “A mother shouldn’t have to ask permission to see her son. A mother should be free to tell her son that she’s proud of the man he’s become.”
“Does he know that you’re here?”
“Yes.” Her chin trembled, but she continued to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry it took him saying those horrible things for me to come see you.”
“Mom.” He walked to her, drew her carefully into his arms.
“Oh, Quinn.” She began to cry. “I’m so sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.”
“You’re right, we shouldn’t waste a minute while I’m here.” Marilyn stepped back, and brushed away the tear tracks on her cheeks. He’d never known her to languish in self-pity for long. She hadn’t had the luxury.
“You look good, Quinn. Happy.” She twisted her hands together and he wished they didn’t still feel so uneasy with each other.
“My shoulder’s almost back to full use. I’ll be pitching for the first time in a couple of days.” He smiled a little. “I guess you know that. Can you stay and watch?”
Her eyes filled with tears again. “I would love to stay.”
He hesitated, realizing he was about to do something he’d never done before – introduce his mother to a woman who was important to him.
“Good. We’ll find you somewhere to stay. But, before that, there’s someone I’d really like you to meet.”
Throughout the past week, Anna had felt at loose ends. She didn’t like considering that Quinn’s absence in her life accounted for this melancholy. And yet she couldn’t come up with any other reason.
While the owners of the Barefoot Bay Bucks had done all they could to shield her from the press, she’d had little choice but to go along with their suggestion that she and Quinn maintain some distance. After all, the media had been pretty much camped out in
front of her apartment complex that first day. Then, there had been the barrage of phone calls. Anna had found it easy to ignore the calls and let them all go to voice mail, but she hadn’t risked leaving her apartment. She couldn’t imagine what life had been like for Quinn during this time.
Today, when her mother called to check and she how she was holding up, she’d decided enough was enough.
So she’d straightened her shoulders, and, refusing to be ashamed or hide any longer, had decided to go to her mother’s cottage. She’d been strangely disappointed when no one approached or followed her. Apparently her brief exposure in the bright glare of fame had vanished.
As she walked, Anna considered that maybe this imposed separation was a good thing. She and Quinn had spent considerable time together in the past weeks, and, speaking for herself, knew they’d found a closeness that went beyond the physical. She fingered the bracelet she had yet to remove as she thought of that last night they’d been together. A night when she and Quinn had been connected emotionally as well as physically.
Surely she could invent ways to avoid spending time with him before he left. Then, she’d be saved the agony of saying good-bye.
A little less than an hour later, her new decision fell apart. Since she’d been focused on making margaritas, she hadn’t heard the doorbell. Once she shut off the blender, however, she heard his voice. She closed her eyes as her heart yearned.
By the time she heard the footsteps come into the kitchen she’d regained a measure of control. Only, when she turned around, she once again fumbled her hold on her resolve.
More than the grin on Quinn’s face told Anna that the woman beside him was his mother. While her hair showed a few fine threads of gray, it was a darker version of his brown hair. Mother and son shared the same eye color.
“Anna.” Quinn swallowed. “I’d like you to meet my mother, Marilyn.”
“It’s a pleasure.” Anna moved forward, and offered her hand. The nerves she felt trembling in Marilyn’s grasp settled some of Anna’s. “Mom and I were just going to have an afternoon margarita. Would you like one?”
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
“Mom, why don’t you take Marilyn and Quinn out to the patio? I’ll be right out with the drinks.” She looked at Quinn, counting on him not wanting to leave his mother’s side to give her a few minutes alone. “Your usual tea?” He hesitated, but then nodded, affirming her guess.
After Anna came outside carrying a tray loaded with drinks and some dip and chips, she realized she’d underestimated her own mother.
“Nonsense,” Lillian waved away a comment. “There’s no reason why you can’t stay here.”
“Here?” Anna repeated, nearly dropping the tray.
“Yes, thank you darling.” Lillian lifted one frosted glass and passed it to Marilyn. “I’ve invited Marilyn to stay with me while she’s visiting.” She smiled at Anna. “Don’t you agree it’s a perfect idea?”
“How long are you going to be here?” Anna asked instead of agreeing. She didn’t bother to sigh when she saw the only remaining seat was between Quinn and his mother.
“I planned to stay and watch Quinn’s return to pitching.” Marilyn nodded at Lillian. “Are you sure you want a complete stranger to stay with you?”
“It’ll be fun. It’s been awhile since I’ve had the excuse to sit and have some girl talk in my pajamas,” Lillian said with a wide smile, and then lifted her glass in a toast. “To family.”
Anna was careful over the course of the next hour to keep to one drink. She needed to keep her wits about her because, as she watched a friendship bloom between her mother and Marilyn Clark, Anna suspected how the evening would end. Then there had been the tugs on her heart whenever she’d observed a tentative interaction between Quinn and his mother. Sure enough, once Quinn had unloaded his mother’s suitcase, Lillian suggested he drive Anna home.
She knew her mother meant well, knew that her mother wanted her to be happy. How could she explain that just the opposite was happening? That every minute spent with Quinn multiplied the pain that would be her companion once he left?
Then she watched Quinn kiss her mother on the cheek before he drew his mother close for a hug. Marilyn Clark’s eyes filled with tears.
Watching this temporary good-bye made Anna realize that distance from Quinn wouldn’t ease the pain. She was going to hurt no matter what she did. Why not go ahead and have whatever time, and memories, she could until that good-bye?
So, at the door to her apartment, she rose on her toes, pressed her mouth to his. “Come inside,” she whispered.
“You’re leaving?”
Rachel smiled. “Since my husband is running for elected office that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but, yes, I’ve resigned my position at the school.”
“To teach the long-term care children at the hospital, like you showed me that day.”
“It’s something I’ve wanted to do since I became aware of the need, Anna. I became a principal because I wanted to fill the void in my life at the time. But, I’ve missed teaching, and these kids, well, you saw them, how fragile and yet how strong and resilient they are.” She sighed when Anna nodded. “They need someone who can be flexible enough to work with them on the good days.” She patted her still flat stomach. “And once the baby comes, there’s an in-house day care at the hospital.”
Seeing her friend so excited about this prospect eased some of Anna’s disappointment. And, as Rachel insisted, just because they’d be teaching in different venues didn’t mean their friendship would have to suffer.
Still, this news came on top of her and Quinn going to Buckskins for a farewell get-together since Scott Williams had been traded. Which meant his girlfriend, Judy, a woman Anna had come to enjoy spending time with, would be leaving as well. For someone who had thought she’d settled into a town where she wouldn’t have to say good-bye, she sure seemed to be dealing with quite a few lately.
“I’m really surprised you didn’t know about this already,” Rachel said, drawing Anna’s attention back.
“What do you mean?”
“Quinn’s the one who made this new position possible.”
“Quinn?”
“Yes, well you know he and I talked while he made the plans for your night at the resort?” Anna nodded, having learned that Rachel had packed a bag and delivered it to the room while she and Quinn had been at dinner. “During one of those planning talks, I mentioned the teaching program at the hospital. Quinn contacted his foundation, and secured the necessary funding.”
Anna had no idea Quinn had lent his name and influence to a foundation, let alone that he’d enabled her friend to move on to another career. It was just like him to wear a wristband publicly promoting support to one cause while going quietly about the business of advancing the one bearing his name.
Rachel leaned back on her chase lounge by the pool. “He made sure that Charlie and I have tickets to watch him pitch tomorrow night.”
Anna’s eyes flooded with tears. Rachel reached out, gripped her hand. “Oh, honey.”
“I know he’ll be leaving soon,” Anna said. “I always knew, and I told myself that I could handle it. After all, I’m used to good-byes.” She used her free hand to swipe at the tears. “But it’s different this time.”
“Because you fell in love with him.”
“I don’t want to be.”
“Why the hell not? He’s gorgeous, he’s great with kids, and he’s respected and well-liked in his career. I just told you how he helped with the hospital teaching program. Don’t,” she said when Anna opened her mouth. “Don’t tell me he’s not crazy about you when I know better. I’ve never seen a man so determined to give the two of you a special night. I half expected him to propose.”
Anna thumbed the baseball charm of her bracelet. “He’s so excited about pitching again, especially since his mother will be here to see him.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “If all goes well tomorrow, and there’s no reas
on to believe it won’t, it’ll just be a matter of days before he’ll be sent back to the home team. What am I going to do?”
“Go with him.”
Anna resisted the urge to scream. Instead, she drew in a deep breath and struggled for calm. “You’ve lived here your whole life, right?”
“Except for college, yes.”
“So of course you think it’s an adventure to move as much as I have.”
“I couldn’t say.”
“What do you mean?”
“You never talk about your past. The few times someone has asked you about some of the places you’ve lived, you either talk around or change the subject.”
Anna met Rachel’s stare. “There were times when it was awful, times when we moved in the middle of a school year and I was the only new girl in class.”
“And friendships had already been established,” Rachel said.
“Some girls would make an effort, but it always felt like about the time I started to get comfortable with friends we’d be transferred. I remember once there was this boy I’d had a crush on for some time. He finally asked me to the movies, only it was for the afternoon matinee on the day we were moving. Because we lived in rentals I could never paint my bedroom anything other than white or beige. My mother insisted it was easier to not have a pet because there are so many regulations and restrictions that go with moving an animal. All I ever wanted, all I want now, is to feel as if I’m a part of something.”
“And you think you’ve found that here?”
“I thought so,” Anna answered slowly, unsure of what Rachel’s question suggested.
“You’ve lived here, what three years now?” Anna nodded. “And yet, until you met Quinn you’ve never gone to Buckskins, or South of the Border, when I know that some of the other teachers have invited you to join them at happy hour.”
“I was helping my mother get settled.”
“Even though your mother is an usher there, you didn’t attend a ballgame until this summer.”
“Neither one of us have ever been interested in sports before coming here.”
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