Unforgettable: A Small Town Second Chance Sports Romance

by Melanie Harlow

  “Yes.” I cleared my throat and sat up taller. “Yes, but I have something to tell you guys.”

  The room grew so silent I could hear the crickets outside the closed kitchen windows.

  “What’s wrong?” Frannie asked.

  “Nothing’s wrong, exactly, it’s just . . .” I reached for my wine glass and took a sip of riesling.

  Next to me, Sylvia put a hand on my leg—somehow she knew. I exchanged a quick glance with her, and she smiled softly at me. It’s okay, her eyes said.

  Nodding slightly, I set my glass down. “This is hard for me,” I began, “because I love you and I trust you.” Another deep breath. “But I’ve kept something from you for a lot of years.”

  “What is it?” Meg leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “You can tell us, April.”

  I placed my hands over my stomach, which was churning. “The summer after I graduated from high school, I got pregnant.”

  Jaws dropped around the table. Eyes went wide.

  “By who?” Chloe asked the question on everyone’s mind.

  “I’ll tell you guys, but please keep his name within our Sawyer sister circle of trust. He was supportive of the adoption, but he didn’t want his name on the birth certificate.”

  “It was Tyler Shaw, wasn’t it?” Meg asked.

  I stared at her across the table. “Yes. How did you know?”

  “You guys hung out a lot that year. You were at his house all the time.” She shrugged. “And he was fucking hot. Half the girls in school were in love with him.”

  “Well, I wasn’t in love with him,” I said. “I was at his house all the time because I was babysitting his little sister. We were honestly just good friends. I mean, I wasn’t blind. I thought he was hot too, but he had girls throwing themselves at him all the time—literally throwing themselves. I liked that I wasn’t one of them. And I think he liked it too. He respected me.”

  “So then how did it happen?” Chloe tilted her head. “Was it just a random one-time thing?”

  I nodded. “Totally. It was right after we’d graduated, the night before he left. We were at someone’s graduation party—I can’t even remember whose—and he offered to drive me home. But instead of going straight there, we took a detour.”

  “Where?” Frannie asked, then bit her lip. “Sorry, is this too personal?”

  “No, it’s okay.” I took a breath, letting the memories from that night roll over me like ocean waves. “He wanted to drive by this old ballfield where he’d played a lot of games as a kid. It was completely deserted and dark, of course, because it was so late at night, and we just sat in the bed of his truck and talked. We’d spent a lot of time together, but that was the first time he ever really opened up to me about his feelings. He talked more about his childhood, his mom’s death, how much it meant to him to make his dad proud. And he was just so excited to get out of here and go prove himself. The only thing he was sad about was leaving his sister. He thanked me for helping out with her so much.” I took another breath. “Then he thanked me for helping him with homework.” A pause. “Then he said how he couldn’t have made it through senior year without me, and he reached over and touched my hair.”

  “You do have awesome hair,” Meg said.

  I laughed a little. “Next thing I knew, we were kissing, and after that, everything happened pretty fast. I mean, really fast.”

  “That’s an eighteen-year-old guy for you,” Chloe said.

  “So no condom?” Frannie guessed.

  I shook my head. “Nope. Truth be told, that was my first time. I was mostly just terrified I was doing it wrong.”

  “Even if that were possible, I doubt he’d have noticed,” said Chloe. “Eighteen, remember?”

  “So what happened afterward?” Frannie asked.

  “Well, immediately afterward, we sort of awkwardly laughed and he took me home. Hugged me goodbye on Mom and Dad’s front porch. He was off to Arizona the next day, and I left for college at the end of the summer.”

  “Did you keep in touch?” asked Meg.

  “Not really. Maybe the occasional text, but we were both on to the next chapters of our lives. It wasn’t until October that I began to suspect I might be pregnant. I’d missed a couple periods by then, but I’d figured it was stress. And I thought the weight gain was the typical freshman fifteen. But then I took a drugstore test, and it was positive.” I shuddered at the memory. “I came home at Thanksgiving and told Mom. She made me an appointment with her doctor. When the results were confirmed, we discussed the options. But she told me the decision was mine and she’d support me no matter what.”

  “God,” Chloe said, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you went through all this and never said anything.”

  “I was embarrassed,” I confessed. “I’d been careless and irresponsible. I didn’t want you guys to know what I’d done. You were barely out of middle school. Meg was just sixteen. And Frannie was like ten or something. I was supposed to be a good example.”

  “You were, April.” Frannie leaned over and touched my shoulder. “You always put other people first. I learned that from you.”

  I smiled at her. “Thanks.” Then I glanced at Sylvia. “I actually confessed everything to Sylvia that Christmas, because she found me crying in my room on Christmas Eve. But I made her promise not to tell anyone.”

  “Did Dad know?” Meg asked.

  I shrugged. “I asked Mom not to tell him, but I don’t know for sure if she did or not. At the time, I thought I wouldn’t be able to face him, but he probably would have been just as supportive as Mom. Anyway, I thought about it and decided I wanted to give the baby up for adoption. Mom helped me choose a family through an agency, I deferred my second semester at school, and I moved in with Grandma Russell for my last three months. Had the baby in March.”

  Chloe gasped. “Grandma Russell knew? Damn, she took that secret to the grave, huh?”

  “Well, Mom had to put me somewhere,” I explained with a shrug. “And actually, Grandma was surprisingly chill about it. She said it had happened to a friend of hers back in like 1950 or something, and the girl had to go to a convent.”

  “Wow.” Frannie shook her head.

  “So what did you have, April?” Meg asked softly. “A girl or a boy?”

  “A boy.” Closing my eyes, I pictured that tiny, wailing, perfect, beautiful baby they’d placed on my chest. “I had a boy.”

  No one spoke for a few seconds.

  “Did you even get to hold him?” Frannie asked.

  “For a few minutes. I remember he was wrapped in a white flannel blanket and wore a blue knit hat, and he had huge, dark, serious eyes. He wasn’t even crying, but I was.” I smiled ruefully and wiped a tear from my eye. “I promised him that I’d never forget him, that I hoped he’d have the best life ever, and that I was sorry I couldn’t keep him. Then I handed him over to his mom and dad—his real mom and dad.”

  They were all silent for a moment, and Sylvia took my hand. “That had to be so hard for you.”

  “It was,” I said.

  “Do you know his name?” Chloe asked gently.

  I nodded. “They named him Charles, after his father and grandfather.”

  They were quiet as it sunk in.

  “What did you do after that?” Chloe asked.

  “I came home for the summer and never said a word to anyone. That fall I went back to Penn State and tried to move on.”

  “Wait a minute, back up. What about Tyler?” Meg asked. “You said he knew about the baby?”

  I nodded. “Yes. He was home that Thanksgiving too. I went over to his house and told him, and he was devastated. I could just see it on his face—he thought his life was over. He wasn’t ready to be a dad. He wasn’t even nineteen. He’d barely gotten his ticket out of here, and hadn’t even played a major league game yet. He didn’t want the responsibility of a wife and kid.”

  “Did he offer to marry you?” Frannie wondered.

  “No, he just
asked me what I wanted to do. I said right away I wanted to give it up for adoption, and he was totally relieved. He offered to pay for anything I needed, but I told him I didn’t need money. The only other thing he asked was that his name be left off the birth certificate, and I agreed that was for the best.”

  “Were you mad about that?” Meg studied me curiously.

  “No. I understood. And it actually made things easier, because I didn’t have to chase him down to sign anything.” I shook my head. “I know we should have been careful. But I’ve never blamed Tyler. Mostly I just felt guilty and sad.”

  “Why would you feel guilty?” Frannie asked. “You did the right thing.”

  I fought a fresh onslaught of tears. “I know. In my head, I know. But something in me still felt like I was shirking my responsibility to this little human life, like I had failed some kind of test of my worth. I was ashamed.”

  “I wonder if Tyler ever felt any of that,” said Meg. “If he ever had regrets.”

  I shrugged. “Not that I know of. But to be fair, we never talked about it. I don’t know how he ended up feeling.”

  Sylvia squeezed my hand. “You were so brave, April.”

  “Do you—do you know what happened to the baby?” Frannie asked.

  I shook my head. “No. Robin, his mom, offered to keep in touch by sending me updates every six months, or yearly, or however often I chose, but I declined. I knew I couldn’t handle it. She said she understood, but that if I ever changed my mind I could reach out. She left me with her address.”

  “Did you ever do it?” Meg wondered.

  “Not until now.” Willing myself to be brave, I stood up, went over to the counter, and dug the letter out of my purse. Then I tossed the envelope on the table and sat down again.

  My sisters stared at it.

  “Are you going to send it?” Chloe asked.

  “Maybe.” I stared at it too. “But I’m scared. It will change my life.”

  “But isn’t that why you wrote it?” Sylvia asked. “Because you want to change your life? I don’t think you would have brought us all here tonight if you didn’t.”

  I struggled with tears, and they let me work through it for a moment.

  “Why did you write it, April? I mean, why now?” Frannie asked.

  I took a calming breath, in through my nose, out through my mouth, like Prisha had taught me. “First, it was you guys. Watching each of you find your perfect someone over the last year has been both wonderful and lonely. I don’t want you to feel bad about that,” I said quickly, because I could see the anguish taking over their faces. “You deserve to be happy. You worked for it. You put yourselves out there and took risks. I needed to figure out how to do that. I started seeing a therapist, and she’s been wonderful at helping me unpack some of the baggage I’ve kept hidden away. I used to think that what was past was past, but it turns out holding on to a painful secret like that has consequences that stick with you. It makes it impossible to embrace the future.”

  “Of course it does.” Frannie had tears in her eyes. “I feel so terrible that you went through this alone for so long.”

  “Don’t,” I said, shaking my head. “It was my choice to keep the secret. And my therapist has shown me how I’ve used that choice to keep myself at a distance from people, not just from you all, but from potential romantic relationships. So my first step had to be talking about that part of my past out loud with someone I trust . . .” I smiled at them. “So here we are.”

  Meg smiled across the table, her eyes shining. “I’m so glad you told us.”

  “Me too.” Feeling stronger already, I managed a smile. “I’m so tired of being afraid, you guys. I want to be brave enough to face what’s ahead—even seeing Tyler again.”

  Every single one of my sisters gasped.

  “Oh my God, at Sadie’s wedding!” Frannie squealed, putting both hands over her cheeks. “I didn’t even think about that. He’ll be there because he’s giving her away!” Frannie and Sadie were the same age and had always been friends. She and Mack would be at the wedding.

  “Sadie is getting married?” Chloe asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “She called me about a month ago. She’s unexpectedly pregnant—kind of a crazy coincidence, I know—but she and her boyfriend want to get married. She said she’s always dreamed of a wedding at Cloverleigh Farms, so on the off chance we had anything available in the near future, she reached out. When I told her we’d had a cancellation in May, she booked it. Her wedding is Saturday night.”

  “Wow,” Meg said.

  “I didn’t mention anything about it to you guys, because I’ve kind of been processing everything slowly, giving myself a chance to take it all in without freaking out. It would have been really easy for me to hand Sadie’s wedding off to my assistant and not deal with this head on. But I think seeing Tyler again is something I have to do in order to heal.”

  “So this will be the first time since . . .” Chloe’s voice trailed off.

  “Since that Thanksgiving when I told him I was pregnant. We never spoke after that.”

  “Wow. He didn’t even reach out to see if you’d had the baby?” Frannie asked. “Or what it was?”

  I shook my head. “No, and I was glad about that. I was struggling to handle my feelings, and hearing from him would have made it worse. For a while, I couldn’t even watch baseball without choking up.” I sat up taller and cleared my throat. “But that was me then. And this is me now.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” Sylvia said, sniffling a little.

  “Me too,” echoed Meg, then Chloe, then Frannie. Each of them had tears in their eyes.

  “Thanks, you guys.” Looking around the table at them, my throat grew so tight I could hardly speak. “That means a lot to me. I feel very lucky to have you on my side.”

  “Always.” Sylvia took my hand in hers and squeezed hard. “Now come on. We’ll all walk you to the mailbox.”

  Three

  Tyler

  I tossed and turned all night.

  I didn’t know if it was the thumping noise coming from the room next to me (seriously, the dude had some stamina), or thinking about April, or the terrifying thought that my sister had asked me to be responsible for her child should anything happen to her, but something was keeping me awake. Maybe it was just being back in this town.

  Leaning toward the nightstand, I checked the time on my phone. Not even five a.m.

  I flopped onto my back again. For a moment, I thought about jerking off, but before I even got my hand on my dick, April popped into my head, and it bothered me so much that I abandoned the project. It wasn’t that the memory of being with her wasn’t hot, because it was. And back before we’d had sex, I used to get myself off thinking about her all the time. But after everything that happened, fantasizing about April had just felt wrong. Disrespectful. Like I didn’t have the right.

  Grabbing the remote from the nightstand, I turned the TV on and hunted for ESPN. Maybe some boring replay of a golf tournament would put me to sleep. Or some talking heads getting worked up about hockey playoffs. As long as it wasn’t that damn documentary, I’d watch it.

  But of course, that’s exactly what was on.

  WELL-KNOWN SPORTSCASTER: You know, his dad was a ball player. Put in ten years in the minors but never got called up. I interviewed him once, and he was so proud. And Shaw himself once told me how much it meant to him that his father always had time to play catch or talk baseball with him, even though he was a single dad and had to work two jobs to support the family.

  (Cut to photo of fifteen-year-old me with my dad, his arm around my shoulders, a wide grin on his face.)

  SPORTSCASTER VOICEOVER: They were close. It had to be hard on Shaw when his father died. I always wondered if that was what caused the problem, even though it happened several years earlier. I don’t know, I guess we were all just searching for any reason this guy lost his arm.

  FORMER MINOR LEAGUE COACH: I thought maybe he had a
blister. I hoped he did. A blister would heal. (A heavy sigh. A shake of his head.) But he didn’t. Poor bastard.

  Angry, I switched the TV off, hurled the remote to the floor, and crossed my arms over my bare chest. If I heard one more person refer to me as that poor bastard, I was going to put my fucking fist through the wall.

  I sat there scowling in the dark for a while, long enough for the thumping in the next room to start up again, as if to remind me that not only was I a washed-up has-been, I was a washed-up has-been who wasn’t having sex. Either way, more sleep was not happening.

  Tossing the finger at the couple on the other side of the wall, I got out of bed. After throwing on some sweats, I yanked a ball cap onto my head, grabbed my wallet and keys, and stormed out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind me.

  I did seven miles on the high school track. I dropped to the ground for push-ups, crunches, mountain climbers, planks. I ran the bleachers.

  When I’d first arrived, it had been dark and cool, but now the sun was rising and the air had lost its chill—I was sweating hard, and it felt good to distract myself with physical exertion, to take out all my pent-up aggression on my muscles. But eventually my stomach started to growl, and I decided to call it quits. Maybe there was a diner open early, and I could sit unnoticed and grab some breakfast before cleaning up and heading out for that haircut my sister wanted me to get. Surely there was a barber somewhere in town who wouldn’t recognize me, right? I was jogging down from the stands, thinking maybe I’d have to drive a couple towns over, when I saw that I wasn’t alone.

  A woman was power walking around the track. She wore black leggings and a white zip-up jacket, sunglasses and a ponytail. Her hair was long and reddish-brown, swinging from side to side as she moved. It reminded me of—

  Wait a minute.

  I stopped and stared as she looped around the near end of the track and started walking toward me—and that’s when I knew.

  “April!” I shouted.