Hancock’s arm fell from around her shoulders, and he sighed. “Darlin’,” Hancock drawled. “Swear to God, this isn’t high school. This is real life. Real world problems. This isn’t going to work like you…”
“Shhhh,” she hissed at her husband. “If I’m wrong about this, I’ll give you that present you’ve been begging me for. You know.” Sway raised her eyebrows suggestively, and I snorted.
Hancock’s grin grew, and I had a feeling that whatever that present was, it was going to be a good one.
“Fine,” he grunted, holding his hands up in surrender. “This is your show. You just tell me where to be.”
Sway winked at her husband, then turned that grin to me.
“Here’s what makes me so sure,” she said, pulling out her phone and scrolling her thumb over the screen. Moments later, she turned it around and showed me what was on the screen, and my heart palpitated.
Why you ask?
Because it was a picture of my Wrigley on the screen.
I don’t know what we were talking about, but Wrigley was standing behind me, and I was having a conversation with Hancock, Gunner, and Rhys.
It’d been at the baseball game last week. The one I’d begged Wrigley to come to with our son so Micah could see his old man win Player of the Year.
Wrigley had come, and I’d been so fucking happy pretending. Acting like my life was normal again, my son and my wife where they were supposed to be—at my side.
Micah was asleep in my arms, and he was drooling all over the uniform that I had to play in less than thirty minutes from then.
I had an arm hooked underneath his butt, holding him steady, while also talking easily with the men around me.
Sway had come around and obviously gotten a picture of the three of us, and Wrigley had stayed behind.
Her eyes were aimed at me, and her eyes were full of love, longing, and pain.
Pain that I felt, too.
“She loves you,” Sway promised. “I’ve looked at this picture quite a few times since the baseball hall of fame banquet, and it’s made me realize that she’s just as far gone for you as you are for her. Trust me. This right here? This doesn’t lie.”
It didn’t lie, no. But it also wasn’t reality. Because, if it were reality, Wrigley would be in my bed every night, and not in a bed all the way across town.
She wouldn’t have kicked me out.
She wouldn’t have done a goddamn thing that had taken her away from me.
And, suddenly, I wasn’t happy seeing that picture anymore. I was pissed. Pissed that she’d felt the same way I had this entire time and hadn’t done a damn thing to fix us.
“What was that look?” Sway asked worriedly. “That wasn’t the look I was hoping for.”
No, I was sure it wasn’t.
“That was the look of a man that’s about to do something either really stupid or something really smart. Either way, this is going to be a fun charity event,” Rhys observed.
“Damn straight.”
Stupid or smart.
It would be determined tomorrow.
“So, Rhys?” I asked. “Your friend available?”
***
Wrigley
I flipped through the channels, stopping on the local news station when a familiar man caught my eye.
My brother.
The douche.
He was covering the baseball event that the Lumberjacks were having tonight at their grand reveal of their new stadium.
Originally, I’d thought that George would ask me to go.
But he hadn’t…I’d waited, but not a word had come from him.
In fact, he’d been quiet when he dropped Micah off early this afternoon since he had to go to his thing tonight.
“And did you see who Furious George Hoffman brought to this event?” Dodger asked, sounding just as creepy as he did in real life.
“Yeah,” the other announcer said. “Speaking of crazy. Didn’t Rhys Rivera bring the same girl to the Lumberjack Banquet just last month?”
My brows furrowed in confusion, but they didn’t stay that way for long.
Not when a picture of Rhys and his friend, Melanie, rolled across the screen.
The picture was there for a total of five seconds when today’s footage took over the screen. This footage didn’t have Rhys and Melanie. It had Melanie and my George.
George was holding her close and laughing at something she was saying, and Melanie had sparkles in her eyes while she laughed, too.
My hand went over my mouth as tears started to fill my eyes.
“No,” I breathed.
I always knew this day would come.
Honestly, I did.
George was a beautiful man. He was virile, strong, and honestly a great guy.
I just didn’t think it’d come this soon.
I thought I’d have years to prepare for this. I thought I would have it all under control!
But I didn’t.
It’d only been nine months!
Nine!
I pulled out my phone and was dialing before I’d even realized what I was doing.
It rang once before I hung up.
Then, for good measure, I threw it across the room and broke it.
I would not call him tonight!
I would not.
Lucy jumped up on the couch beside me, sensing my discomfort.
Her licks started right about the time that my tears did.
And, before I knew it, I had latched onto Lucy’s neck and let every tear that I could produce roll into her doggy fur.
Not once did she tell me to get it together.
Thank God.
Chapter 14
Let’s just say, that didn’t go as planned.
-George’s secret thoughts
George
I tried one more time to get her on the line before I decided to drive over there.
My heart was in my throat as I raced up the stairs to Wrigley’s apartment.
By the time I was knocking on the door, I was assuming the worst.
But, she answered the door in a timely manner and looked more than surprised to see me.
“George, what are you doing here?” she asked, sounding odd.
I swallowed. She looked heartsick, and I knew that she’d seen what I wanted her to see.
She wouldn’t look me in the eyes, and something was wrong with her. Her light was gone. The one that she left on only for me.
And I knew, right then and there, that her response to seeing that picture had been the wrong one. I’d made the wrong decision.
I could see it in the way she held herself, and the way that she kept her distance.
“George? What are you doing here?” she repeated.
“You didn’t answer your phone. I called you five times,” I said. “I was worried.”
She shrugged. “I broke it last night. I’ll have to go get a new one.”
“I can get you one,” I offered. “I can…”
“I’m going to get my own plan,” she interrupted. “It’s time.”
I opened my mouth to deny that she needed that, but she interrupted me yet again. “And you can also stop paying for my sister’s apartment, while we’re on the subject. I know that you’re doing it, and I think it’s time that Dodger and I started taking care of that.”
“Wrigley, I…”
“Did you want to see Micah?”
I blinked, unsure how I was supposed to respond to that.
“Sure,” I said. “I’d love to see Micah, you know that.”
“Then you can go pick him up from Mother’s Day Out. I think I could use a nap.” She looked away from my gaze.
“Wrigley…”
“I’ll talk to you later, George.”
Without further ado, she shut the door in my face.
Then I heard her break down into sobs.
I knew then and there that
I would do anything to never hear her cry again.
Unfortunately, the next few months I’d be hearing a lot of it. And none of it had anything to do with me.
Chapter 15
Questions are a good thing. The only time they’re not good is when the doctor that is working on your son asks them.
-Wrigley to George
Wrigley
To clear my head, and help Micah get some of his energy out, I decided that I’d be taking him on a walk down to the park.
It was less than a quarter mile away, and with how pretty it was outside today, I knew that it’d help me, too.
I’d been going over the night before, and this morning, for hours.
I’d focused on it, fretted about it, and genuinely drove myself crazy.
All in all, I was not in a good place.
And since I wasn’t in a good place, I decided a walk and some fresh air might help me grasp some perspective.
Because literally, I was hanging on by a thread.
That thread being my son.
“Mommy, bike!”
I looked at the little bike that my two-year-old little boy loved with all his heart. Something, sadly, his father had picked out for him.
Did he love the stuffed animals or the monster trucks I’d bought him? No.
He’d loved the bat, ball, and bike that his father had gotten him.
Dammit.
“Yeah, baby,” I said softly. “We can take your bike.”
I picked it up and pocketed my keys, then looked at my son. “You ready to go?”
“Yes!” he agreed readily. “Ready, Freddy.”
I smiled.
That was also something his father said to him.
“You ready, Freddy?” To which my son would reply, “Yes, ready, Freddy!” in the cutest cherub sweet voice he could muster.
“Let’s go,” I urged.
Lucy, my baby, followed at my heels, but I shook my head. “Not today, baby. I can’t hold the bike, you, and Micah. We’ll go on an extra-long walk tomorrow, though. Okay?”
Lucy seemed to understand my words, despite not actually being human, and I was thankful.
We made it down to the lobby of the apartments, and onto the sidewalk that led to the park without any problems.
It was when we were passing the local radio station, JKSD, that we ran into our first hurdle.
People. And a lot of them.
When I say a lot of them, I’m talking about a lot. Over a couple hundred…at least.
And they were all there for something to do with baseball tickets, from what I overheard.
Dammit.
Dammit.
Dammit.
I picked Micah up, settled the small bike over my other shoulder, and hurried through the crowd.
I could see why they wanted the tickets. The Lumberjacks were in the playoffs, and this would be the first year that they could possibly win everything. The town of Longview was definitely excited.
I was, too.
Or I would have been, had I not stupidly yelled at my husband for getting upset over something worthy of getting upset over, and then kicked him out.
Which reminded me I needed to try to get a hold of Diamond again.
She was avoiding my calls, and it was getting old.
I realized she wasn’t doing well. That her mood swings had taken her to a place where she didn’t like to be. But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t spend time with me when George had Micah.
That had been one of George’s stipulations, and I’d adhered to it.
Which, I think, was part of the reason my sister was no longer talking to me.
She was mad that I’d given in to George.
She was also mad that I’d broken up with him.
I just couldn’t win with her.
Goddammit.
The moment we broke free of the throng of people and I could see the park in my sights, I put the bike as well as Micah down.
Micah immediately went to his bike and started pushing himself forward.
Fast.
“Micah, slow down, buddy!” I called, moving over to the left when a few men started to pass.
They all smiled down at Micah and his Harley Davidson bike, and I smiled, too.
He was damn cute.
My smile slipped away when my phone rang.
George. Again.
Goddammit.
I wish he’d stop calling.
Shoving the phone back angrily into my bra—because where the hell were you supposed to keep your phone when you were in yoga pants? —I hurried to catch up to Micah.
Just as I’d reached his back tire, someone called my name.
That was when I realized that the first reporter from the radio station had found me.
I frowned and looked up, only to have a light flash in my eyes.
“Dammit,” I muttered, putting my hand up to block the next flash—which came almost on the heels of the first. “Excuse me.”
I was seeing stars and trying to catch up to Micah when someone else called my name.
I ignored them and hurried faster. “Micah, honey, let me hold you.”
Micah started to push himself faster. “No!”
I rushed forward, but someone grabbed me from behind.
I shook them off as panic started to slice through me.
I should’ve never left Lucy at home! This was exactly what we’d gotten her for! Protection against these assholes!
“Leave me alone!” I cried out, running now.
And that’s when it happened.
Beside the crosswalk we were on was a large, deep ditch. And beyond the ditch was a stop sign.
The cross street didn’t have a stop sign, but obviously they needed to.
At least for the guy that stupidly turned too sharp and ran straight into the ditch instead of the road that he was trying to stay on.
And I saw as if in slow motion, the car fall into the ditch and roll.
Right into the path of my son.
The car swung, knocked his tiny little body off of the bike, and catapulted him into the ditch—which was semi-filled with water.
“Micah!” I shrieked in terror.
I found myself in the water up to my ankles before I could even tell myself to move.
Then I hesitated moving even an inch of my little baby’s body.
He was bleeding.
Everywhere.
His nose. His mouth. His ears.
Oh, God.
“Baby,” I cried, tears dripping down my cheeks.
“Don’t touch him!”
I looked up to find a paramedic rushing to me.
I had a fleeting thought of ‘how did they get here so fast’ when it was answered moments later by someone in the background.
“How did they get here so fast?” someone asked.
Another one asked, “Is he dead?”
“The paramedics were eating in the park,” someone else answered.
“Did anyone else think to check on the driver?” Another question was uttered.
I was actively bawling now, standing beside a man who was working on my son.
“Move, ma’am.”
I did, stepping back fast and falling on my ass into the water.
I stood back up, and then tripped again.
I looked down to see what I’d tripped on, and a keen left my throat when I saw my son’s shoe, shoelaces tangled on a stick, at my feet.
I picked it up and clutched it to my chest.
Fear was clogging my throat, and causing me to forget how to breathe.
“Is he…is he going to be okay?” I asked through a choked sob.
“Ma’am?”
I looked up to find a woman holding her hand out to me.
“Yes?” I asked, confused.
“Come here. Step out of the water. Give them room to work,” she whispered.
&n
bsp; I took a step up the embankment of the ditch and headed her way.
I had no idea why I was following her orders, but I was.
A little boy that looked a lot like her stood watching the paramedics work around my son, and I moaned.
The woman stayed clutching my hand as she pulled me toward where I now could see the ambulance was parked.
I couldn’t breathe. Could barely think. My feet were frozen to the ground, and the only thing holding me steady at this point was the woman’s arm that was practically holding me up.
“Wh-what’s your n-name?” I licked my lips.
“Greta,” the woman whispered.
“And your son’s?” My voice broke on the word ‘son.’
“That’s not my son,” she murmured. “That’s my best friend Tomi’s son. His name is Cailean.”
“He likes Transformers?” I murmured.
I was trying to keep myself distracted, but it wasn’t working too well.
I wanted to run over there and drop down beside my baby. I wanted to pick him up in my arms and tell him that everything would be okay. I wanted him to throw his arms around my neck and laugh off the fall like he usually did.
Except, he wasn’t going to do it.
He wasn’t going to be getting up.
He was hurt.
Badly.
Oh, God. George.
“I have to call my husband,” I whispered.
My heart hurt so bad.
Everything inside of me was frozen in fear.
And the one person that I needed most wasn’t there.
I hated that I had to make that call.
Hated it.
Hated it so much that I wasn’t sure that I could make it through the call before I broke down.
But I couldn’t do it.
George had to know.
There was no way I couldn’t make the phone call.
Otherwise, he’d hear on the news.
And I had to make the phone call quickly, or he would be.
“Ma’am,” the medic who wasn’t working on my son said. “You can come with us, but you have to sit up front. You cannot, under any circumstances, do anything that could possibly stop us from rendering aid to your son. That means no freak-outs. No screaming. Nothing. No matter what you hear. See. Or feel. Do you understand?”
I nodded mutely. “Yes.”
“All right, climb in the front seat.”
I nodded and did as I was told.
Quit Your Pitchin' Page 11
