Making a Comeback

by Kristina Mathews

  Chapter 25

  Clayton lasted about an hour playing with the twins. He didn’t want to play dress up and he didn’t want to play catch. So they’d taken a walk down the beach. Clayton complained about getting sand in his expensive leather shoes, but he’d stuck with it long enough to build a sandcastle.

  Annabelle had hung back, letting them have time together. Trying to remember that no matter how angry she was with Clayton, he was their father. No matter how much he’d hurt her, or disappointed her, he had given her the gift of her children and she would be forever grateful for that.

  “I was thinking we could order takeout for dinner.” Annabelle shooed the girls upstairs to change out of their sandy clothes. “It’s a school night, and we’ve got to catch up on the homework they didn’t get to while they were playing.”

  “Aren’t they in kindergarten?” Clayton asked. “They shouldn’t have homework.”

  “Yes, they are in kindergarten, and they actually look forward to their homework.”

  “So what do they do, practice their ABCs?”

  “They’re starting to read.” Pride in her girls could be heard in her voice. “And they write in a journal. Simple sentences, but they’re writing. And they can count to one hundred.”

  “Whatever happened to learning how to line up and not eat paste?”

  “Times change. We learned how to cut and paste using scissors and glue. They do it on the computer.”

  “They’re doing okay in school, then?” His voice sounded more relaxed, more like the Clayton she’d been able to have civilized conversations with. They might not have had a grand passion for each other, but they’d never been hostile toward each other, either. The only time they’d ever really fought was after they’d gone out for the evening and he was both proud of the way other men looked at her, and jealous of their attention.

  His outburst at the Goliaths’ barbecue when she’d embraced Marco Santiago was only slightly overblown. No, she shouldn’t have hugged Marco, but she’d been feeling ignored for some time. Their lives had settled into a pattern of Clayton being gone more often than not, and Annabelle was busy shuttling the twins from one activity to another. Keeping busy had become a substitute for being happy.

  “They’re doing great.” Annabelle had cut back on the activities, choosing to let the girls spend more time doing unstructured things. Like going to the beach, playing dress-up, and even watching a movie now and then. They’d have plenty of time to learn the piano, take gymnastics, or play soccer. “They love their teacher, and they’re right where they should be academically. Sophie is as confident and outspoken as always. And even Olivia has come out of her shell. You should have seen them sing a duet in their class play.”

  “They sang a duet?”

  “Yes. It was wonderful.”

  “So, they’re happy?”

  “I think so.” She reached over to pat his hand. “They miss their father, of course. But they’re doing well.”

  “And what about you?”

  She wasn’t going to tell him that she was involved with another man. Someday she would, but not now. Not when he was already feeling pretty down.

  “I’m doing much better. Each day I feel a little stronger, a little clearer.” She forgot he didn’t know the extent of her injuries. “I had some memory loss, and I wasn’t able to drive for a short period of time after the accident. I’m not getting headaches, and I’m sleeping much better these days.”

  “I had no idea, I mean, I can see the scars on your face.” He gave her a half-hearted sympathetic smile. “Why didn’t you tell me if it was so serious?”

  “I didn’t want to burden you. You’ve had enough to worry about lately.”

  “Thank you, Annabelle. I appreciate that.” He sounded truly grateful. “I just wish… I wish I didn’t have to go through all this alone. You’re so strong. I don’t think I ever realized how strong you were. Are you sure we can’t give it another shot? For us? For our daughters?”

  “I made an appointment with my lawyer.” She’d been able to catch him before he left for the weekend. “I’ll meet with him on Monday to see if we can restructure the settlement, and reduce or eliminate the child support payments.”

  “So there’s no chance for us?”

  “There never really was.” And they both knew it. “You never would have married me if I hadn’t gotten pregnant.”

  “You wouldn’t have married me.” he said. “I’m still not even sure why you went out with me in the first place.”

  “You were safe.” She could admit that now. “Someone I could take home to show my family I was a real grown up. That those months I spent out of control were just a phase. I was just acting out after not getting my way for the first time in my life.”

  “Who wasn’t a little wild when they were twenty-one?”

  “I went too far.” She shuddered at the memory. And the fact that she’d been almost desperate enough to take Alfonso up on his suggestion that she have a threesome with him and Serena. Almost.

  “So you picked the most boring guy you could find?” He’d never been secure in his place in her heart. Maybe because he’d never really earned that place.

  “You weren’t boring…”

  “But I wasn’t nearly as exciting as a photographer. Or a baseball player.” His jealousy was flattering at first, but it soon became tiresome.

  “I wasn’t looking for excitement. I wanted stability.”

  “What about now? Have you found someone who gives you excitement, yet keeps you safe?”

  Annabelle felt heat creep across her cheeks. She had found just that in Nathan Cooper. But she couldn’t share that with Clayton. Neither could she deny it, by the look on his face.

  “You are seeing someone.”

  “It’s nothing serious.” she lied. “Besides, Sophie tells me you have a girlfriend.”

  “I had a date. My brother set me up. And how the hell did Sophie know that?”

  “She’s very observant. Too smart for her own good, sometimes.”

  “Yes. And she also doesn’t know when to keep things to herself. So who is this Cooper she was talking about? I take it he’s more than a neighbor, then?”

  “Maybe. He was there for me after the accident. And while nothing will erase these scars…” She swept her hand over her face. “He helped me heal on the inside.”

  “No wonder you’re in such a hurry to get rid of me.”

  “Clayton, we should have divorced a long time ago.” She was losing patience with the conversation. “You hardly ever made love to me after the twins were born. I practically had to beg for any kind of affection.”

  He sat there, silent, for a long time.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” he said finally. “In the delivery room. There was so much blood. And the screaming. I thought you were going to die right there in front of me. I vowed right then that if you pulled through, I’d never put you in that position again.”

  “There’s this new thing called birth control.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice. “If you were that worried, you could have had a vasectomy. Or I would have been willing to get my tubes tied, rather than a boob job.”

  “I know it was irrational, my fear.” He got up and started pacing. “I watched you with the girls, holding them, nursing them, loving them. The three of you were so perfect together. I felt like an outsider.”

  “You were afraid to touch them. Even more than you were afraid to touch me.”

  “I know. I was afraid.”

  “Maybe if we’d had this conversation five years ago…” She let her voice trail off. “Well, I guess it’s too late for what-ifs. I’ll go pick up some dinner. Original or extra crispy?”

  “Surprise me.”

  * * * *

  “Where are the vegetables?” Olivia complained when she looked at her plate piled high with fried chicken, coleslaw, and mashed potatoes and gravy.

 
“Is this organic, free-range chicken?” Sophie asked.

  “Back in my day, kids ate what they were served.” Clayton had seemed a little harried by the time Annabelle returned from picking up takeout. The girls had balked at letting him help with their homework, complaining he didn’t know how to do it.

  “Yes, please eat.” Annabelle gave both girls a stern look. “This is a special treat. Try the coleslaw, cabbage is a vegetable.”

  “But it’s not green,” Olivia whined.

  “What about the chicken?” Sophie demanded.

  “The chicken gave up its life, so you’d better eat it.” Annabelle wondered how they’d gone from only wanting to eat chicken nuggets if it came with the right toy, and avoiding anything green, to insisting on organic produce and humanely treated poultry.

  “Okay.” Sophie begrudgingly took a bite of her drumstick.

  “Yes, Mommy.” Olivia put a tiny portion of coleslaw on her fork and wrinkled her nose as she hesitantly put it in her mouth.

  “Why don’t you tell Daddy about the play you were in?” Annabelle tried to get the conversation flowing.

  “Oh, we were the Doubles Girls.” Sophie licked her fingers and turned toward her father to tell him about it. “We were dressed like twins, which was funny because, of course, we are twins. And then we sang the counting by twos song and everyone clapped and we got a standing vocation and then we got flowers.”

  “But then Skyler’s dad yelled at Cooper and everyone else got all quiet and…” Olivia looked at Annabelle and must have noted the look of alarm on her mother’s face. “I don’t know why Skyler’s dad was so mad. Maybe he thought it wasn’t fair that we got flowers and Skyler didn’t.”

  “So your boyfriend went to this play?” Clayton glared at her. “How nice.”

  “Cooper’s not Mommy’s boyfriend, right?” Sophie gave her sister a look like she wasn’t supposed to say anything in front of their father. “He’s just our neighbor and our friend and he helps us with our homework and singing and building sandcastles and playing catch and…”

  She must have realized she’d gone too far.

  “Well now, isn’t that sweet?” Clayton’s words dripped with resentment.

  “Let’s finish our dinner, then it’s bath time. And Daddy will read you a story.” Annabelle gave both girls a look that said they’d better not complain or ask for a song or mention Cooper in front of their father again.

  “Okay. Thank you for the chicken. It was yummy.” Sophie finished her dinner and drank the last of her milk.

  “Yes. Thank you.” Olivia ate everything but the coleslaw. She pushed the offending side dish around on her plate and looked up at Annabelle with pleading eyes.

  “You don’t have to clean your plate.” She gave in. Olivia had tried so many new foods lately, she wasn’t going to push.

  She sent the girls upstairs to get undressed.

  “I’ll take care of the kitchen when they’re done with their bath.” Annabelle waited for Clayton to say “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it.” But he didn’t.

  She shrugged and followed her daughters to the upstairs bathroom.

  “Are we in trouble, Mommy?” Olivia’s eyes were so wide, Annabelle worried they might fall right out of her head. “I tried to eat all my food but there was too much sauce on the coleslaw.”

  “It’s okay, sweet pea.” Annabelle ruffled her hair. “It’s not the healthiest vegetable anyway.”

  “Daddy’s mad at us, isn’t he?” Sophie stood there in her socks and underwear, with her arms folded across her chest. “He’s mad we didn’t invite him to the play.”

  “No. I think he understands he’s going to miss a lot of things, with him living in Florida.” Or wherever he moved to next. “I think maybe he’s sad he missed the play. And maybe it’s hard for him to hear about how much fun we’re having without him.”

  “And he doesn’t want you to have a boyfriend or even a friend who’s a boy.” Sophie was indeed too smart for her own good sometimes.

  “You know how you felt bad about getting flowers after your play when the other kids didn’t?” She tried to explain it simply, so they could understand. “But that doesn’t mean you didn’t appreciate the flowers, or the person who gave them to you.”

  “We said, ‘thank you,’ remember?” Olivia looked horrified that they’d been less than grateful.

  “I know you did. But you also didn’t go to school the next day telling everyone how you got flowers and Skyler and the other girls didn’t. That would have made her feel even worse, right?”

  “Yeah.” Olivia nodded.

  “Uh-huh.” Sophie dropped her arms to her sides.

  “So, it might make Daddy feel even worse about missing out on things if you talk about how much fun you had with Cooper.”

  A look of understanding passed over Sophie’s face.

  Olivia blinked back tears. “I didn’t mean to make Daddy sad.”

  “Of course you didn’t.” Annabelle pulled both girls into a hug. “Now get into the tub and get ready for a bedtime story from Daddy.”

  “Okay.” Olivia climbed carefully into the bath.

  “And we won’t mention the bedtime songs that Cooper sings,” Sophie said earnestly.

  “That’s probably a good idea.” Annabelle held her hand out for Sophie to grab onto as she stepped into the tub with her sister.

  “But who’s he going to sing to?” Olivia asked.

  Who, indeed? Annabelle had tried calling while she was waiting for the chicken. Cooper had picked up but there was loud music in the background and the connection was spotty. It sounded as if he was in a bar or club. She’d just barely made out something about him staying out of her hair for the next few days.

  * * * *

  The drive took longer than he’d remembered, but that was okay. The place was lively. Full of hot and horny college students, twenty-somethings, and older singles trying to fake their way into feeling like they still had the goods. At least the music was good. That was the real reason he’d come all this way.

  Cooper ordered an IPA and took a seat near the stage. Bryan and the Stowaways played a good mix of classic rock, newer stuff, and some original ballads. He wouldn’t be surprised if they broke out in the next couple of years. All they needed was one big break.

  He nursed his beer, keeping time with the music, and trying not to sing along. When the band took its first break, Bryan, the lead singer, gave him a nod and made his way over to him.

  “Hey man, what are you doing down here? We’re a little bit out of your neighborhood. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for spring training?” Bryan sat down next to him and flagged the waitress.

  “I just felt the need for some good tunes. And you guys are the best.” He patted his friend on the shoulder. “Besides, I don’t have a team. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Oh man, that stinks. But hey, glad you’re here. You wanna come jam with us?” Bryan asked.

  “I don’t have my guitar.” No, he wasn’t going to start worrying about whether he’d see his guitar again. Or Annabelle.

  “No way, man. I’ve never seen you without your guitar.” Bryan shook his head in disbelief. “It’d be like you not having your left arm.”

  “Well, there’s this woman,” Cooper started to explain.

  “Enough said.” Bryan punched him in the right arm. “You’re coming up on stage. You can play mine. It’s not as sweet as yours, but you can make it hum like no one I know.”

  “You’re so full of shit.” Cooper laughed.

  “Come on. We’ll play one of those sappy love songs, make all the ladies in the house quiver.”

  “I’ll sing a few songs, but not to get the ladies.” He finished his beer and followed his friend up on the stage.

  They played another set, Cooper had another beer, and he declined several offers from the ladies for drinks, dances, or whatever he wanted. He switched to water but it didn’t help the h
eadache pounding behind his eyes. The club was too loud. Too crowded. Had he once enjoyed that kind of life?

  The music still appealed to him, and he was grateful for that. But the rest of it? The late nights, the strobe lights, the women? No thanks.

  Tequila shots with a couple of hot brunettes held no appeal compared to tea parties with two sweet blondes. He’d rather do the Cinderella waltz with a pair of six-year-olds in princess costumes than get out on the dance floor with scantily dressed twenty-somethings.

  And Annabelle?

  His chest tightened just thinking about how right she’d felt in his arms. How right she’d felt in his life. Part of him wanted to march over there, bang on the door, and demand that she let him in.

  But she’d had a life before him. One that included her husband. The father of her children. The man who could give her anything she ever wanted. Cooper didn’t have a job, and the only prospect he had was on the other side of the Pacific.

  Maybe he’d been kidding himself. He’d never had the stuff to be a starting pitcher. Oh, sure, when he’d first been drafted he’d had visions of Cy Young Awards, twenty win seasons. He’d dreamed of being a left-handed Johnny Scottsdale.

  But he’d been sent to the bullpen. They’d made him a specialist. He’d felt he was good enough to go against both right-handers and lefties, but he hadn’t been given the chance. One batter, at the most two was all he’d faced in recent years. Sometimes it seemed he’d throw one pitch, and walk off the mound with two outs. He was that good. Bring him in when the team was in a jam, and he’d get out of it.

  Maybe that’s the way it was with Annabelle. He’d been a fill-in. Come in when she was at her lowest, build her confidence, and then step aside while she got back to her real life.

  If that was the case, he’d be happy for her. He’d hate it, but he’d be happy if she was happy. He’d been infatuated with Annabelle Jones for ten years. Infatuated with the way she looked, the way she smiled, even the way she’d gone into seclusion after her last magazine shoot so her love life wasn’t splashed all over the tabloids.

  Now, he loved her. As a woman, a friend, and a lover. He wanted nothing but to see her smile, for real, not because she was being paid to do it. He’d made her smile, made her laugh, and he’d made her bury her face in his chest so she wouldn’t scream and wake the children.