Changing Fate (Endgame #5)

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  “Yep.” Fist bumping, we walk to the pitcher’s mound. Everyone circles us. “Listen up. You aren’t playing as a team. You win as a team. You lose as a team. And you play as a team. It’s the only way. You,” I point to the pitcher. “You may not like every call your catcher gives but you don’t discount his knowledge. Trust he’s studied the batter. Trust he believes in your abilities. Don’t think you know best. My best friend is a pitcher and I watched more tape of opposing teams and the batters’ weaknesses so he could excel. Know your teammate is doing the same thing.” He nods. “You,” I focus my lecture on the catcher. “Don’t let him down. Learn the stats and lead your team to a win. It starts at the plate and you’re the person responsible for getting them off the plate— without a hit.” He agrees.

  “You,” Deacon points to one that was playing in outfield. “Step up and play shortstop. You have great foot work and can catch a fucking piece of Jell-O.” The kids’ eyes widen. “Don’t be scared. Play the game you love.” We go through other positions and tell them to play.

  “I’ll be damned.” Coach says as the players execute play after play. A scrimmage game ensues and Deacon and I split up— playing opposing sides for the first time. I step up to bat and take a deep breath. Feeling the weight of the bat, smelling the cut grass, looking into the distance to see Deacon’s face. A yell pulls my attention and sure enough . . . my girl is in the stands cheering for me— loud and with pride.

  “Hit it outta the park, Monroe.” She shouts.

  “Don’t let him, Douglas.” Saylor screams.

  “Go both of you.” Brecklynn claps. I know Deacon won’t make it easy for me, so I watch the pitcher wind up— he isn’t a chump but he isn’t Mason fucking Adler. And I’ve grown up with Mason’s arm, so I smirk. Cocky, maybe. But definitely earned. He releases and it’s a fastball but doesn’t pack the heat that’ll sting my shoulders as I connect. Swinging, the thwack jump-starts my heart. The screams from my girl jolt me into action. I round first, look up and see outfield scrambling. My foot hits second and they’ve grabbed the ball— at the fence line. Pushing faster, I hit third. It’s leaving their hands to throw back. Propelling my legs, the blood pounding in my ears, I run. As I cross home, the ball hits the catcher’s glove but a millisecond too late.

  I grin and seek Deacon. He’s got a gleam in his eyes of pride. That’s us. All of us.

  If one of us makes a mistake, we all learn from it.

  If one of us succeeds, we all celebrate it.

  Avery’s voice is what I hear. I strut to the stands and go to bended knee. “Will you marry me?” This is my do-over from that fateful night. I’ve asked her before, but I’ll ask her every day.

  “Get up, fool.” She laughs. “And yes.” She winks.

  Avery takes Nolan from Brecklynn as her sobs echo. She hands the sleeping baby to Saylor and takes Breck’s hand pulling her close. The bawls are loud as they surround the casket. Shouts, screams, sobs— they’re burned into my ears. The sea of black and tears of women crush me. I can’t stop watching.

  “What the fuck is this?” I ask from the doorway.

  “Steel Magnolias.” Avery hiccups.

  “I can’t believe you made me watch this.” Brecklynn cries. “Pause it.”

  “You’re back early. Miss me?” Avery asks.

  “Yeah. And Deacon’s outta beer. Kinsley didn’t want to sleep and I’m thinking I should’ve stayed there. Who the fuck is Wheezer?” The scene is gripping.

  Saylor chuckles. “Someone you wanna whack. I’m leaving. Caveman will get restless.” She gives me Nolan and heads home.

  “Start it.” I utter as I scoot into the couch next to Aves and Breck.

  “Chick flick.” Avery goads.

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes and continue to watch. I make a mental note to watch it from the beginning when Avery isn’t here to witness.

  Man card and all.

  “Baby,” I try to keep my features schooled. “If you do this, Emberlee will hate you. You may lose a day in your sainthood.”

  “Whatever. I have some to spare. And she won’t hate me. She’ll be angry. Scream. Maybe cry. But it’ll be worth it. Have you seen the emails she’s sent?” Avery schools me.

  “Yeah. D-I-V-A.” Saylor smiles. “And I owe her.”

  “Fuck that. I have to endure the next months of her hormones. Y’all don’t live close to her. We’re doing it. If I’m gonna listen to her bitch, I’m gonna give her a reason.” Brecklynn joins and makes it the Three Musketeers.

  Mason, Deacon and I go along for the ride. After all, I’m not the one feeding, fucking, or paying her bills, so she’ll get over it. I think. You never know what to expect with Emberlee.

  “We’re dead.” Deacon whispers.

  “I know.” I can’t believe we are buying into committing this act.

  “I travel a lot. I’m good.” Mason boasts. “At least we aren’t stripping like we did for Deacon’s proposal. My agent would have a fit.”

  “So would your wife, asshole.” Brecklynn grabs his ear and laughter ensues.

  “How’d you get her dad to go along with your scheme? I don’t see the General down with this?” I question.

  “Ah. Power of the pussy.” Saylor makes my head spin. Deacon growls and she flips him off. “I didn’t offer him my pussy. I have a pussy, therefore, it’s powerful. I pushed a kid from there. He misses his granddaughter, so I offered him our kids a few hours a week. Fucking winning.” Shortstop never ceases to amaze me.

  “I’m in awe, Shortstop.” Mason marvels.

  “Watch and learn.” She winks.

  “I’m gonna be gray at thirty.” Deacon mutters.

  “And you’ll be hot.” Saylor winks. “I’ll still be pole dancing for you.”

  “WHAT?” Mason is loud. “Your wife’s a stripper? You need a loan?”

  “Fuck off. Saylor, quit talking.” Deacon grips her hand and she doesn’t talk but she does giggle. A lot.

  “Here goes nothing,” I mutter as the first strains of ‘Blame it’ by Jamie Foxx starts.

  It’s a good thing Brody is marrying her— although after his part in this fiasco I’m not sure he’ll remain alive very long. I know she’ll be taken care of. I’m sure he has good insurance.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Brody pulls at his tux bowtie and I bite my lip. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” He opens the door and the fog machine starts. He dances down the aisle, a bit stiff, to his song. His face red, his hands shaking, and I’m sure preparing his apology for his soon to be wife. Saylor looks at me and winks.

  “You’re up.” She smacks Mason on the ass and Deacon grips her hand and pulls her to his side. Usual antics with them. Mason steps through the door and ‘If I Were A Boy’ by Beyoncé starts; he pauses and turns to Saylor.

  “That’s fucked up.” In true Mason fashion he hams it up. Pelvic thrusts, gyrating, winking, and his trademark smile that has panties dropping. Caden can’t breathe through his laughter and Deacon kisses the shit outta his wife.

  Halfway through his aisle dance the music switches to ‘Lazy Love’ by Ne-Yo and his moves come full force. He eats up the attention while his wife rolls her eyes. He turns, winks, and drops it like it’s hot. I’m guessing things ‘work down there’ again . . . I don’t dare ask.

  “Go show him how it’s done, stud.” Saylor pushes Deacon and you can tell he’s reluctant. He isn’t into attention unless it’s from his wife. “Make me proud.” Lord, this girl would keep Caden in practice if he was gonna be a cardiologist. Finding a song for him was hell— he nixed everything we chose.

  When Saylor brought me his choice I wasn’t shocked. ‘Body Like A Backroad’ with Sam Hunt serenading us, echoes through the venue and he channels his inner stripper— or his wife has been giving him lessons. For someone who shies from attention, he’s working it. His eyes smolder, his hips rotate, his posture draws you in . . . and that fucking dimple. “He’s mine.” Saylor fans herself. Believe me,
there’s no doubt who he has eyes for. I swear he’s fucking her to this song— in front of everyone. I need a cigarette . . .

  “You quit, baby.” Caden breathes in my ear. Shit, I said that out loud.

  “You ready?” He shakes his head no and I know my silent, dominant, and sexy as fuck man isn’t ready for his debut. But I’m ready to show him off.

  I wink and push him to the door. ‘Show You Off’ by Blaire Hanks grabs his attention and he turns back to me.

  “You’re a mess.” I nod. “My mess.” I accede again. Always his. I stand like a statue watching his ass shake, because dat ass is a work of art. The globes nice and tight from all the squats his position afforded him. It’s my favorite part to grab as he’s thrusting into me.

  “Wipe the drool.” Brecklynn kids, but it wouldn’t surprise me if I had a puddle at my feet— and not just from my mouth.

  “Do you think they’re quaking in their boots?” Saylor asks.

  “Probably. Idiots.” We’re smarter than we look. Emberlee was in tears every day planning this wedding. She can turn any occasion into a party but her wedding was killing her. This was all okayed with her— I’d never pull a stunt like this without her approval. Bitch can be evil. We put our heads together and she loved the idea. Unconventional— like her relationship. She was so stressed with everything she wanted her wedding to be fun.

  “I’m up, bitches.” Brecklynn giggles. “Mason is gonna die.” Lee Lee peers around the wall.

  “I gotta see this.” She whispers. That girl is a vision. A tiny baby bump shows with a trim waist and her skin glows. She’s wearing ivory and her green eyes are vibrant.

  “Come here.” I pull her to me and shield her body so she can see without being seen. ‘Come & Get It’ by Selena Gomez starts and she shimmies her sexy self down the aisle and Mason’s eyes bug. She leans over so he has a good view of her cleavage and shakes her chest. Emberlee hoots, I hug her. To see her so happy melts me. And to see the fact Breck gives it to Mason as good as he dishes shit out warms me. We all found our person and I have no doubts our love can handle what life throws at us. We’re stronger together than apart.

  “Five bucks Deacon storms the place and throws me over his shoulder.” Saylor bets as she changes shoes.

  “I’m not biting. The spread is too large. I’ll wager on how many beats you get before it happens.” I’m no fool.

  “Yeah. I say five.” Lee Lee says.

  “I’m giving it seven. Caden can hold him for a few seconds.” I toss.

  “Oh ye of little faith. I say three because wait til you see my entrance.” Saylor winks and struts her tiny ass to the entryway. ‘Low’ by Flo-Rida plays and she kicks her foot in front of her, drawing attention to her boots— covered in fur at the top. The wedding erupts in laughter and Deacon’s already taken a step outta line. Caden catches him and Mason helps.

  It’s all over when Saylor spins, puts her ass in his view and drops while twerking. The Hulk himself couldn’t restrain Deacon. Emberlee and I are holding each other up in fits of giggles as he reaches her. She’s still dancing and decides to use his leg as a pole. He swings her up, slaps her ass and places her in position at the altar. Problem being, when he sets her down, the music is still playing. She whips her hair, bends back and I can feel the vibration of his growl back here.

  “Lord, he needs sedatives.” Emberlee sighs.

  “At least with that vixen he won’t need Viagra.” I laugh.

  “Good thing. You can’t mix blood pressure and heart problems with that little blue pill.” I snort at her.

  “You ready for this?” She bites her lips as her eyes fill with tears.

  “So ready, Aves. I can’t believe this is my life.” I wish she’d realize she’s worth this. She’s deserving of this love.

  “He loves you.” I remind her.

  “I know. And I love him.” She pushes me away. “Go. Show em’ what you got.”

  ‘No Scrubs’ by TLC blares and I start down the aisles. I’m not a dancer by any means but I can hold my own, so after a couple hard hitting steps I make my way to the guys and point my finger at them while lip syncing the words. Half way through the lyrics, Saylor and Breck join me and we have fun.

  As the song ends, we all take our places and wait for Emberlee. A few chords of the wedding march begin and the doors open to her standing there like a vision, her dad escorting her.

  Bam— the music changes to ‘Like A Virgin’, the Glee cast version because Madonna is all sorts of off her rocker of late. General Winchesters face pinks but he holds it together as he dances with his daughter who is showcasing her bump. Fitting song for humor and this is what she wanted.

  “She knew?” Mason yells to us.

  “No shit, Sherlock.” Saylor gloats.

  “Saylor Douglas, you may not be mine, but I’ll tan your hide.” Wanda hollers from her front row seat.

  “Oh my Gosh.” Brecklynn drawls. “I don’t know why we invite her to stuff.”

  “Uh, have you met our parents?” I raise my eyebrows. “She’s in good company— the crazy kind.”

  We all quiet as Emberlee reaches Brody. “Embe,” we hear him sigh and I have to wipe a tear.

  Their vows are traditional so it evens out the craziness of the procession, and Lee Lee freaked with hormones, being a mom to a toddler and writing vows.

  “She said obey.” Mason snorts.

  “Embe. Kill him.” Brody sneers and Emberlee shrugs.

  “I did just promise to obey.” She hands me her flowers.

  “Brody, hush. Emberlee, stay right there. Mason, stop antagonizing. Brecklynn, control your man. You didn’t promise to obey.” Wanda warns us all to behave.

  Thank goodness the kids are in the nursery. We need to break the cycle of filterless conversations no matter the place. It was passed to us through our parents; we have to help the next generation. I stare at my friends and want to weep. There is no help. None. The next generation is fucked. And they’ll be in charge of picking our nursing homes. I make a mental note to start bribing all the kids and to spoil mine rotten. It’s the sole chance I have. If they’re like us, they’ll stick together and it will only take one vote to sway me into a shit hole to live out my golden years.

  As much as I love our life and home here in Nashville, it isn’t where I wanna be forever. Sure, the school systems are good, the people friendly, and the nightlife great— but our family is in Kansas. And New York. But I don’t see Emberlee and Brody staying. He’s got a good job, but he misses the collegiate level. It’s a more personal level and the sheer amount of staff is daunting for him with working in the MLB. His mom isn’t moving from Texas, and coming back home without all the travel gives her an opportunity to visit and actually see him. Coach Gill says he’s welcome anytime but they have seven months until his contract is concluded. He’s announced he’ll extend it until the season ends.

  Thanksgiving is approaching and everyone’s gonna be home. Including us. The girl I’ve hired part time is responsible and will be fine handling the gallery in my absence. Caden has a week off, Deacon is taking vacation, and Brody and Mason are in off-season. I can’t wait.

  “Aves, you pack yet?” Caden hollers from the kitchen.

  “Doing it now. Want me to pack for you?” I call back.

  “I’ll help.” He’s right behind me and I scream in surprise. “Do we have set plans while we’re home?”

  “Dinner is at Deacon’s parents’ this year. I’m wedding dress shopping one day since everyone will be home.” His grin blinds me. “Lee Lee is insistent she have a say so in her bridesmaid dress since she’ll ‘just have had twins’.”

  “Isn’t she due in March?” He tilts his head.

  “Yes. But they don’t expect her to go full term.” I roll my eyes and throw a bra into the suitcase.

  “Yeah. That’s all you.” He grabs his duffel and starts tossing shit in. I wish I could pack like a guy.

  “I want to talk to you.” I whisper.
>
  “What?” He’s serious as he sits.

  “I wanna write our own vows. I want the dress. The hoopla, but only want family there. I don’t want to send hundreds of invitations to people that we haven’t seen for years. I want it to highlight us.” I don’t know what his vision is so I’m going out on a limb.

  “Perfect.” That was easy.

  “You sure?”

  “Aves, I’d go to Vegas tonight if you wanted. I want to see you in that dress walking towards me but I don’t care if we were the only ones in the room.” He pulls me to his lap. “Considering the history with weddings, it may be best if we’re the only two in the room.”

  “I have a place in mind.” I curl into his chest.

  “Prom?” He knows me better than I know myself.

  “Prom.” I sigh. I won’t have sets. I won’t have to hide my love. I won’t have to leave alone. It’s a do-over— but one that ends with us being tied forever.

  Holy drunkenness. We’re all trashed— sans Emberlee’s pregnant ass— in Saylor and Deacon’s living room. Snorting, sloppy, slurring drunk.

  “Truth or dare?” Emberlee asks. Pinning me with her stare.

  “I’m not dumb enough to strip in front of y’all, so truth.” I lean back waiting for it.

  “When did you first fuck?” She points between Caden and me.

  I look at him and smile. “Prom.”

  “No way. Who’d you fuck Spring Break? We bought sexy shit and I know nobody would turn you down in that.” She’s crass.

  I can top her crudeness. “Caden’s tongue.” I sigh. “Y’all were throwing your v-card away as soon as you could walk. That’s why your asses have stretch marks.”

  “Not cool.” Breck glares. “I didn’t know you then.” Mason freezes.

  “Subject off limits.” He pulls Breck to his side and I face palm. I forgot what happened with her and I feel like shit.

  “Breck, I’m sorry.” I whisper.

  “I’m not upset about that. I do have stretch marks on my ass. That’s why I’m mad. I hope you get as big as a house.” She sticks her tongue out. “With the size of your man, I bet your baby will be ginormous.” She eyes Caden. “But if you don’t quit taking it in the ass you’ll never be pregnant.”