Juked

by M. E. Carter

  Hailey clasps her hands over her mouth. “Oh, I’m so happy for you!” she exclaims and comes around the counter to give Quincy a hug. “I was so worried. I prayed the whole time you were gone! But I knew it. I knew the judge wouldn’t take that sweet baby from you.”

  “That’s not exactly how it happened, but that’s a story for another day,” Quincy says, halting further conversation. “Right now, I need to give my baby a hug. Can we head back there?”

  “Sure, sure.” Hailey waves us through. “I went back there about fifteen minutes ago, and he was munching on some finger foods, so he may be ready for a nap.”

  “Great. Thanks, Hailey.” Quincy practically skips down the short hallway and flings the door open to the infant room. Chance is sitting on the floor surrounded by a bunch of toys. When the teacher greets us, Chance looks up from the book he’s chewing on and gives his aunt a big grin. He’s immediately on his hands and knees, crawling to her. She scoops him up in her arms and hugs him tightly. Her eyes are closed, and a few tears are leaking out. I could stare at the two of them like this all day.

  “I take it everything went well today?” his caregiver asks quietly, not wanting to interrupt their moment any more than I do.

  “Better than we could have ever anticipated,” I say, never taking my eyes off my girlfriend and the love of her life. The teacher pats my arm and walks away to fetch Chance’s diaper bag.

  She hands it to Quincy, and they exchange a few words before the three of us leave and return to my car.

  “I can’t guarantee Erik won’t try for custody again,” she says as we walk down the sidewalk to the parking lot.

  “I know.”

  “I could lose next time.”

  “I know that, too.”

  “If I do, it’s gonna hurt. A lot.” She’s not trying to be a downer. She’s giving me one last chance to decide if I’m really up for the relationship and everything it entails.

  I pull her to a stop. “I know all that, Quincy, but I told you, I’m all in. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I’ll take the chance.” Chance reaches for me. I take him in my arms with a smile on my face. “And I’ll take Chance, too.”

  He seals the deal with a big slobbery baby kiss to my chin.

  5 weeks later

  “What is Tiffany the tramp doing here?”

  I shush Geni and smack her with a towel. “She’s with Rowen Flanigan.”

  “The rookie?” she asks, taking a sip of her wine. “Since when do the players bring groupies to team parties? I thought they only had special parties with those girls.”

  I roll my eyes and slice more cheese for the cracker platter. I’m thrilled so many players showed up for Chance’s first birthday party, but they eat a lot. Daniel hasn’t even started grilling yet.

  “Be nice,” I reprimand her. “They’re dating now. From what Daniel says, Rowen really likes her.”

  Geni chokes on her wine. “Does he know what she does for a hobby? He seems a little too, I don’t know… virtuous for her.”

  “The heart wants what it wants. I’m not judging.”

  After greeting a few teammates and their significant others, Tiffany and Rowen make their way through the crowd and over to us. It’s obvious Tiffany is uncomfortable. Her eyes keep darting around the room like she’s waiting to be jumped. It makes me sad for her. She hasn’t exactly been nice to me, but she stopped being so rude when she realized I was going to be around for a while. I think she also respects the fact that unless I have the baby with me, I prefer to sit in the stands than the box. You can see the game better, and there’s nothing like the feel of the crowd.

  “Thanks for letting me come,” Tiffany says robotically as she shoves a bottle of wine my direction.

  “That’s what he said,” Geni mumbles behind me. I ignore her and smile at Tiffany, hoping she didn’t hear. Judging by the look on her face and the way Rowen squeezes her shoulder, I think we all heard her.

  “I’m glad you could be here.” I take the wine and look at the label. “Petrolo Galatrona 2013 straight from Tuscany. Wow. This is a great year.”

  “You know wine?” she asks, brows crinkling. “With the way you suck down those yard-long margaritas, I thought all you liked were cheap drinks.”

  I let the dig slide. “My dad used to be a real wine connoisseur. I grew up learning about the best years for different vineyards.”

  “Well, anyway, thanks for inviting us.”

  “Make yourself at home.”

  Rowen gives us a small, shy wave, and they move out to the patio where most of the players are hanging out. They both seem to relax and smile more as soon as they’re among friends.

  “That was weird,” Geni says behind me.

  “Quit it. She’s trying.”

  “I guess.” She puts her empty class down. “But I have more important things to do than worry about how many members of the whore core show up in your apartment. Where’s the birthday boy?”

  I look over the counter and into the living room, where I last saw Chance. He’s standing up next to Rosemary, who is sitting on the floor with him, waving a new plastic book in his hands. She’s clapping her hands, in obvious delight over his new trick—standing unassisted. He hasn’t started walking yet, but I know it’s coming soon.

  “He’s over there.” I point in their direction with my knife and get back to the task at hand. Geni bounces away, plopping herself down on the couch next to Erik. He looks at her and grins. I stop what I’m doing and watch them chat for a minute.

  “No,” I say under my breath. “No way.”

  “No way, what?” I hear behind me. I didn’t even hear Daniel come in.

  “Look at Geni.”

  Daniel puts his hands on my hips and rests his chin on my shoulder. He’s silent for a few beats as we watch Geni and Erik talk and laugh and give each other small touches. “Is she…?” he starts. “Are they… flirting?”

  “I think they are.” I can’t take my eyes off of them. At first it strikes me as odd. Their personalities are so different. There’s no way they could be attracted to each other. And then it hits me.

  Their personalities are so different. Of course they’re attracted to each other.

  “Is that going to be a problem for you?” Daniel asks, nuzzling my ear.

  I turn my head, encouraging him to do it more. “I don’t think so. I never would have put that together, but it might work.”

  He spins me around in his arms, not paying attention to my hands.

  “Oh!” I throw my hands out. “Careful. I’m holding a knife.”

  “Shit, I didn’t even realize you were holding that,” he says as he takes it out of my hand and puts it on the counter behind me. “There. Now you’re unarmed.” He puts his arms around my waist and pulls me flush to him. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Mm, what about?” I thread my fingers through his hair before wrapping my arms tightly around his neck and holding him close.

  “I love you, Quincy,” he whispers, and I freeze.

  “What?”

  “I wanted to tell you that.”

  I pull back to look him in the eyes. “What, um, what brought this on?”

  “I’ve thought it for a long time, but me being me, I was too afraid to tell you.” He rubs up and down my back. “I know we were apart for a few weeks, but I feel like we’ve been together for a while now and…”

  “You’re not getting ready to propose, are you?”

  His eyes widen. “Oh god, no! I am nowhere near ready for that.”

  I relax. “Good. Neither am I.”

  “Quincy, I’m not even ready to talk about moving in together.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out. You started making a speech, and I wanted to make sure we were on the same page before you dropped down on one knee in front of everyone and got turned down.”

  He smacks me on the ass. “Do me a favor. If I ever do propose, and it happens to be in public, say yes no matter what. You can break
it off with me as soon as we’re alone, but it’ll save me the public humiliation.”

  I chuckle. “Deal.”

  He runs his hand down one of my cheeks to cup my jaw. “I really do love you, though, Quincy. You juked me.”

  I smirk. “You’re gonna have to teach me all your soccer lingo if I’m gonna stick around a while. I have no idea what you just said.”

  He smiles. “I saw you coming, but before I could even get my guard up, you ran right over me and left me dazed.”

  “That doesn’t sound very good,” I joke.

  “Oh, but it is,” he says, kissing the corner of my mouth. “I love your heart. I love your smile. I love your sense of loyalty to your family, no matter how big or small it is. I love your ability to forgive.”

  “You love my ass,” I say.

  “I love your ass,” he agrees. “But mostly I just love you.”

  I run my hands down his chest and clear my throat. “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “You juked me, too.”

  He flashes me a smile that could light up the room, and suddenly his lips are on mine.

  “Hey! Get a room!”

  Daniel and I break apart as Geovany rummages through the fridge.

  “Are you looking for the beer?” I ask as Daniel runs small kisses down my neck.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s in the cooler by the grill.”

  Geovany closes the fridge door and turns toward the back door. On his way by, he yanks Daniel by the neck of his shirt and pulls him away from me. Daniel stumbles before righting himself and pulling Geovany into a headlock.

  “What the fuck was that for?” I hear Daniel ask as they walk away.

  “This is a kid’s party, man,” Geovany responds. “I was trying to keep it from turning into something rated NC-17.”

  They continue to rib each other as they go out to the deck and greet more of our guests.

  I take stock of how many people are in my tiny apartment. A year ago, a Sunday afternoon would have consisted of me, myself, and I vegging on the couch. Maybe I’d be doing some studying, although those classes have been dropped long ago. I might very well be recuperating from a night out with Geni and a few other coworkers.

  Now, it’s filled with a dozen soccer players and their spouses, practically all of Daniel’s family, and Chance’s new family. There are smiles and laughter and lots of love. And I love it.

  “Hey, Geni,” I call, wiping my hands on a towel. “Can you get the balloons?”

  “Sure.” She hops up off the couch and bounds down the hall to my bedroom. I go to the living room and scoop Chance up off the floor.

  “I’m gonna steal him for a few minutes, okay, Rosemary?”

  “Sure,” she says with a wink. She knows what I’m up to and why Chance and I need to do this alone. “I’ll make sure all the fixings are ready for when the burgers are done.”

  “Thanks.”

  Geni’s sister has stopped watching Chance on the weekends. Rosemary really wanted to get to know her grandson, and I agreed her spending the day with him every Saturday would be good for him as well. It has turned out to be a fantastic situation. She really is an amazing grandmother. As a side benefit, Erik has spent quite a few Saturdays with them as well. After only a few weeks, he admitted having a baby full time is way more work than he originally anticipated. I think he’ll make a good dad someday, but he’s still too selfish right now.

  Shortly after our custody arrangement was made official, the three of us discussed the idea of me adopting Chance. While I had always felt guilty over the idea of Sarah’s name being removed from his birth certificate, the idea of having as many rights to Chance as Erik does in the eyes of the law was way more pressing. I’m sure Rosemary knew that was my intention even though she never said anything. I also started getting more concerned about Chance growing up without an official mother. An adoption won’t change the fact that he’s my sister’s son, but it’s no one’s business except his, and adoption will give him the option to tell the story or not.

  I expected at least some backlash from the Copes when I suggested it. Instead, the idea was embraced. As soon as the home study is processed, and we go before a judge, the Copes and I will be stuck together for life.

  “Here you go, babe,” Geni says, handing me two red balloons filled with helium. Chance immediately claps his hands and reaches for the balloons. Red is still his favorite color, a preference Daniel jokes is because of him. He actually might not be far from the truth, considering the way that kid likes watching soccer on TV. “Is it all ready to go?”

  “Yep. I did it earlier.”

  “I’ll get the door for you.” She opens the door and gives me a quick hug as Chance and I dawdle our way to the parking lot, stopping every time he gets distracted by something he finds interesting.

  We find a spot free of trees, and I put Chance on the ground, standing him up before I hand him the string to one balloon. He laughs and flaps his hands, making the balloon bounce. It doesn’t take long before he lets go of the string, and it flies up in the sky out of reach.

  “Bye bye, balloon,” I say as Chance waves at it. “Take Baby Chance’s letter to mommy.”

  “Mama,” he says. He recently started calling me mama, so I look down, thinking he’s talking to me. But he’s not. He’s still staring at the balloon.

  “That’s right, baby,” I say, stroking his soft hair. “That balloon is taking your letter to your mama.”

  I decided months ago, every year on his birthday, we’d send letters to Sarah in heaven by way of balloon. I know he has no memory of her, but I still want him to feel close to her. I want him to know how important he was to her. I want him to know how important she still is to me.

  This year, his letter is his handprint with his name underneath and the year. I know Sarah won’t get the letter, but it makes me feel good, thinking that in some magical mystical way, maybe she will.

  I grab onto the letter attached to my balloon and kiss it before I let it go, watching it grow smaller and smaller in the sky. My letter was a little bit longer.

  THE END

  It really takes a village to make the voices in my head come to life. Because as much as a story might roll around in my brain for a while, to get it on paper takes time. And research. And lots and lots of expertise.

  With that being said, I have to give a HUGE shout out to John Marshall. I could not have gotten this book done without your help. Your willingness to answer all my questions, no matter how big or small, regarding the inner workings of college soccer versus professional soccer versus European football has not gone unappreciated!!! Nor has your support and love for my little family right when we needed it. Frankly, I’m not sure which one I appreciate more. Love you, friend! And your wonderful wife, Julie, too! <-- I only put that part because she threatened to rally the troops and get intentional strikes at the next Christmas party if I didn’t. I was afraid total anarchy would break out.

  Allison Janes, Erin Noelle, Megan Kapusta, Allison East – I said I was on a tight deadline, what with releasing two months early, and you took it as a challenge to get things beta read as quick as possible. WOW!! YOU GUYS ROCK!! Thank you for helping me out in a pinch when I was freaking out. I promise, no more freaking out. Ok, fine. I’m lying. I’ll totally freak out again.

  Sara Ney and Brenda Rothert – Your no-holds-barred critiques help shape these ideas into realistic stories. The ONLY reason they are as good as they are is because of you guys. Don’t even think I take credit for any of it!

  Laurie Darter and Jennifer Stiltner – Thank you for taking on the role of admining my tiny little author group. It takes so much pressure off knowing you guys are monitoring and promoting and helping. Thank you, thank you, thank you! (And for those of you wondering, the group is called Carter’s Cheerleaders. Join us!)

  Helen “Rosemary” Cope – I am so glad you have more creativity than I do. You are officially an honorary member of the
Texas Mutiny! Always!

  The staff at Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae – Murphy Rae, this cover is just amazing. Really. I was nervous about the whole naked torso thing. But you made it perfect like always. LS King, your editing is intense. Wow. I looked at every single comment and every single change and you really stretched me as a writer. I have lots to think about next time I write and lots to work on. But I’ll “grab” onto that challenge. Get it? Haha! KD Phillips, I’d thank you for your proofreading skills, and I really do appreciate those. But maybe more important, thanks for your friendship. Especially now. Your turn is coming. ;)

  Julie Titus – I haven’t even seen it yet, but I know it’s fabulous. Because you are fabulous at what you do. And at working me in randomly when you have cancellations. And calming me down when my timelines look impossible. A good formatter can make a pretty picture. A GREAT formatter can take a crazy author and convince her it will all work out during crunch time. You fall under the great category.

  Hoover – There’s nothing I can say that hasn’t been said before. Except I wish we had worked in the same social services office. Damn, that would have been fun.

  The BSers. Always assholes. Always sarcastic. Always supportive. Even when I’m a terrible friend. I don’t know how I ended up in such a wonderful group with such wonderful people. I’ll try to do better. And I’ll probably fail. And you’ll probably still like me. Go figure.

  My parents – These last few months have been INTENSE. I would have drowned without you. Many, many days I’m surprised I didn’t. And not just with writing. Is an acknowledgement in the back of a book even enough? It’s gonna have to be because I have nothing else to give. Except grandbabies. I keep giving you those. Not on purpose. I need to figure that out….

  My kids – You all drive me crazy. You also make me smile. You make my heart overflow with love. And even when I’m the world’s worst mom, everything I do is with you guys in mind. Someday, when you are allowed to read my books, I hope you’ll know that.