I nodded my agreement and jogged back to the bench as Franny swung the bat a bit to warm up. I leaned down near her ear when she stopped swinging. “Darren says careful on the inside. The pitcher is losing control. If you think you’re going to get hit, dive for the ground, got it?”
She nodded and I patted her on the shoulder. “He also said to knock it out of the park, he’s hungry.”
She giggled in the way only a nine-year-old girl can giggle and ran to home plate. I joined the rest of the team on the bench and clapped a few times. “Down the middle and away,” I yelled as she took her stance, waiting for the pitch.
The first two pitches were outside and low, which gave us 0 and 2 as he wound up again. The pitcher let go of the ball and I noticed the twist on it immediately, so did Franny. She swung and the bat hit the ball with a loud crack. All three runners took off for their next base, the adrenaline rushing through their little bodies as they pumped their legs around the diamond, paying no attention to where the ball was, concentrating only on home base. Javier crossed first and jumped out of the way, so Darren could slide into home, too. The rest of the team was yelling and cheering as Franny ran for all she was worth. The ball sailed over her head and the catcher grabbed it just as she slid in, touching her hand before it hit the base.
“Out!” the ump yelled enthusiastically as we poured onto the field from the dugout. The kids grabbed Franny as she brushed the dirt off her uniform, spinning her around in a circle. Once their celebrating was out of their systems, they lined up to walk the game line, shaking hands with the Martindale Mariners.
I brought up the rear, patting kids on the shoulder. “Good game guys,” I said, because it had been and it could have gone either way. “Way to play your hearts out,” I said, as they all trudged along, crestfallen by the loss. “You did a great job today,” I assured several who were near tears. “Thanks for being such good sports,” I said to others who had their shoulders slumped, but still traipsed through the line. I kept my eye on their coach at the end. He had a scowl on his face, and refused to acknowledge any of my players. He acted like a seven-year-old instead of a twenty-seven-year-old.
Xavier Carellton chapped my hide, to the max. His coaching technique involved yelling at the kids as much as possible, and putting them down more often than he lifted them up. He expected to win every game, and put too much stress on his players. A loss devastated them, and chances were good he probably required multiple extra practices the next week. I hadn’t quite figured out why he kept coming back to coach, or why they let him. It’s a volunteer coaching position and anyone would be better than he was at coaching the team.
After a few more players passed by, we were face-to-face, and his scowl became full-blown anger. He grabbed my hand in a handshake which nearly crushed the bones. He held me there, his face so close to mine I could smell whatever putrid thing he’d eaten for breakfast. I wanted to yank my hand from his, but he refused to let go, his beady brown eyes trained on me in a deadly glare. “If you’re smart you’ll cancel your date tonight. Lina is my girl and I’m not handing her over to some skinny, worthless kid like you. She needs a real man, which I happen to be. Take your little victory here today and run home to mommy, because if I catch you with my girl, I will kill you. Got it?”
He let go of my hand and shoved me in the shoulder at the same time, essentially knocking me off balance. I let myself fall, but before my butt hit the ground, I was up again, wiping off my hands. He laughed around the sneer on his face, and hustled his players toward the Martindale bus. My eyes remained trained on them for a few more seconds, the exchange rattling me.
“Coach Dalton?” Javier asked and I glanced back to my team. “I don’t think he should say he’s going to kill you.”
His hands were trembling and I groaned on the inside, wishing these kids hadn’t overheard his threat. I tipped Javier’s baseball cap down and forced a jovial tone to my voice. “Don’t let him bother you. He talks big, but he won’t actually kill me. You’re right though, he shouldn’t threaten people, so please don’t repeat it, ever. Got it?” I asked the team, taking time to stare down each one of them. Heads nodded up and down, so I clapped my hands once. “Good, now, enough about him, let’s go eat some pizza and enjoy our victory!” I said, holding my hands up in the air.
They all followed suit, clamoring around me as their parents waited for us after leaving the bleachers. I promised I would meet them all at the pizzeria, but when I got in my truck, I had to take a few deep breaths. Was Cat really Xavier’s girlfriend? He does live in Martindale, which is closer to where she lives than Little Ivywood, but she doesn’t seem the type to step out on someone, especially someone like Xavier. I shook my head and started my truck. More than likely, he had to strut around like a peacock because my team beat his on the field. I followed the parents out of the parking lot and vowed to put it out of my mind.
Chapter Five
I drove into the lot at the humane society and parked by a car. I had an hour before I had to pick Cat up, but I wanted enough time to get the BMW uncovered and ready for the trip to her house. She lived on the outskirts of Little Ivywood, almost to Martindale, where Cinn teaches. It meant I needed a good fifteen minutes to get there, and didn’t want to feel rushed.
“Taking the car tonight, Lorenzo?” my dad asked and I glanced up, surprised by the intrusion to my thoughts. He had Annabelle on a leash and she immediately wiggled down to the ground when she saw me.
I squatted and gave the girl a little attention while staring up at my dad. “I have a date tonight, so I decided to take the car.”
Dad’s eyes roamed over me head-to-toe when I stood. “You’re awfully dressed up. Is it anyone I know?”
“You used to know her. Do you remember Cinn’s friend Catalina Chávez?”
“The artist?” he asked rather unexpectedly.
“She’s a wildlife artist, yes. Why?”
He shook his head. “No reason, just wondered if I had the right gal in mind. She’s a lot older than you, son.”
I nodded as I unbuckled the straps which held the cover on the car. It was protection against wind, rain, and hail. I was grateful when Foster said I could park it here until I could find a storage unit for it. I used to keep it at my parents’ house, but since they moved, I had no choice but to rent a place to store it. Once summer ends, I’ll park it in a garage and leave it there for the winter.
“Is there a problem?” I asked, beginning to roll the cover off from the front to the back, being careful of my clean clothes and tie.
“I would say it’s less of a problem and more a consideration,” he answered while I put the cover to the car in the back of my truck. I would be back later to swap the two out again, regardless of how late we finished our date.
I brushed my hands off and rested them on my hips. “I’m a grown man now, Dad. I’m not marrying her. I’m taking her out for the evening.”
He held up his hands. “I only have your best interests at heart, Lorenzo.”
“And by best interests you mean the fact she’s in a wheelchair,” I said, reading his mind.
He sighed and shook his head. “I have nothing against Catalina, Lorenzo. She’s a beautiful woman and the wheelchair doesn’t factor into this in any way. I simply hope you’ll consider how deeply you want to get involved with her until you’ve decided what you want out of life.”
I nodded slowly and chewed on the inside of my lip to keep from saying something I shouldn’t. “Thanks, Dad. I appreciate how you’ve always got my back.” I do appreciate how much my parents care, even if sometimes it’s annoying. I don’t want them to think I don’t love them. I’m thankful for everything they’ve given up for me and the way they’ve supported me my whole life.
“Have you found a job to start after you finish the shelter work?” he asked and I tried not to audibly groan. He wanted me to work for a company where I would get benefits and good pay, but I enjoyed working for myself and wasn’t leaning his wa
y at all.
I could see it would become a sticking point soon enough, so I decided to appease him for the night. “I searched the want ads in the paper today at lunch and found a few places hiring. I’ll put in an application online tomorrow morning.”
He grinned and gave me the thumbs up, the same way he used to do when I was five. “Good, I know you’ll find something.”
I opened the driver’s door and stood with one arm on the doorframe. “I’m sure I will, too.” But chances are it won’t be what I’m looking for out of life. I didn’t say what I was thinking, though. He had enough to worry about. “Say hi to Màma for me?” I asked, sitting down in the seat and he nodded, waving as he took Annabelle inside.
Once he disappeared, I climbed from the car and yanked the truck door open. I carefully moved the wood vase and flower from the truck’s cup holder to the car, then grabbed the other package, locked the vehicle, and pocketed the key. I slid into the leather seat of the BMW and inhaled deeply. The scent of leather mixed with the scent of Mabel’s favorite cigars, which still clung to the interior the way a woman’s perfume lingers long after she’s gone. Once I was inside the car, I fastened my seatbelt, and cranked the key over. The car purred like a kitten and I waited for the shot of teenage boy excitement to flow through me, but it didn’t come. Why was I nervous? I asked myself as I drove away from the shelter and aimed the car down the highway. It isn’t like I’ve never been on a date before. Sure, it’s been a lot of years, but dating is kind of like riding a bike. I would have a great time with Cat, even if we never went past a first date.
I glanced at the clock as I headed toward Martindale. I had time to stop and wash the car, but since it had been under the cover, there wasn’t much point. Besides, the edges of the doors would hold water from its sprucing up and I didn’t want her or her chair to get wet.
I tapped my fingers on the wheel. Maybe I gave myself too much time and she wouldn’t be ready. I didn’t want to get there early and have her be upset with me. I did the math and figured by the time I arrived in Martindale I would only be fifteen minutes early. I decided to drive slowly and I could always kill more time once I got there. I flipped the radio to a soft jazz station and half listened to Thelonious Monk tickle the ivories while my brain whirred.
I suppose most guys my age wouldn’t listen to jazz, or even know who Thelonious Monk was. Then again, most guys my age didn’t grow up with a sister who could play with the likes of Thelonious Monk, and half of the other great jazz legends. Cinn taught me to appreciate fine music. She taught me making a living with your hands doesn’t have to be work if it’s something you love, and to listen to my gut because it won’t steer me wrong. My dad had hopes I would be more than a carpenter one day. He dreamed I would one day be hitting for the Dodgers or the Padres. Fact is, I couldn’t live a life like professional baseball players live. I would miss my home and my family too much. I love baseball, but not enough to do it for a living. Someday, I want to be more than a carpenter. Like Cinn, I want to teach. I hope to gain enough experience to teach carpentry at a college or technical college, but first I need to put my time in and learn the trade.
My mind drifted to the beautiful woman I would be picking up in a few minutes. I spent the afternoon, as I assembled the flower vase, trying to muster an image in my mind of what she looked like when we were kids, but I couldn’t. All I could see were her beautiful brown eyes and sweet, curly hair. I hadn’t told Cinn last night about our date. She needed to recover, and since she wouldn’t be at the shelter tonight, hopefully our parents wouldn’t say anything about it. If the date ended up a bust, at least I wouldn’t have to explain to my sister why her friend and I didn’t jive. I didn’t believe for a moment the date would be a bust, though.
I signaled left toward Martindale and let my gaze fall on the flower vase resting on the passenger seat. I almost quit making it half a dozen times this afternoon. Maybe real flowers would be better, I kept telling myself, but my hands kept carving and sanding. Cinn taught me something else in life; the only way to find the person truly meant to be with you, is to know them on the same level they know themselves. It sounds complicated, but it isn’t. If you find the person’s passion and learn about it, then show educated interest in what they’re passionate about, you’ll make an immediate connection to their heart.
Cinn’s first husband didn’t try to understand her passion. As soon as the going got tough, he ditched her with Mabel and divorced her as quickly as possible. Then along came Foster, and he understood my sister’s passions were her family and her music. He immediately shared his fondness for our grandmother, and it touched Cinn’s heart more than any store-bought flowers ever would.
I had to hope Cat felt the same way about my wooden flower. She’s a wildlife and nature artist, so I used her medium, and my medium, to make something to last much longer than the first date.
“Turn left in one quarter mile,” my GPS said, breaking into my thoughts and making me jump.
I glanced up to the street signs, watching for Hollyhock Lane. When it loomed ahead of me I checked the clock. I managed to drive slow enough on the way over I was only ten minutes early. Hopefully she saw it as excitement and not desperation. I drove along Hollyhock Lane searching for 722. My heartbeat picked up the closer I got to the 700 block and I chewed on my lip. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe Dad’s right and I should be settled before I try to woo an older woman.
“Lorenzo, stop,” I said aloud. “You can do things your way without them being the wrong way. Stop second guessing yourself.”
I took a deep breath before I slowed at a driveway. As I swung the BMW into it, I wondered if this first date would be the one to change my life forever.
The handicapped ramp in the front of the house did, indeed, make her place easier to see than the numbers on the house. I parked behind the hulking shadow of her van then took a moment to assess the property. It needed work, to say the least. It reminded me a bit of a haunted house with the shutters hanging catawampus and the yard in need of a mowing. The handicapped ramp was steep and led to the front door all at one dizzying angle. She must struggle to get up the ramp every time she comes home, especially if she has something on her lap. I gave my head a little shake and unbuckled my seatbelt.
I angled out of the car reaching back in for the flower and box, then closed the door carefully. She had the front door open, so I strode up the ramp. Near the top, my foot caught in a loose board and I fell forward, catching myself in the nick of time, before I fell or dropped anything. I paused and bent down over the offending wood plank. The nails on the bottom on each side were broken, leaving only the top nails in place. I set the gifts down and barely tugged on the board. Those nails gave way, and the board was in my hand.
Oh, this is cute. I’ve been here three minutes and I’ve already managed to break her ramp. I set the board upside down on the next plank and stepped over the hole it left. I would get my hammer to fix it once I knocked and let her know I was here. When I made it to the door, she waited behind it, smiling at me from her chair.
She motioned me in and I grabbed the handle of the screen door, stepping through. “Hi, Cat,” I said softly. Her beauty reminded me of a butterfly in a field of clover. Subtle, but stunning. “Gosh, you’re beautiful,” I said breathlessly.
She gazed at her soft pink dress which flowed past her knees in her wheelchair, brushing at it absently. “Thank you,” she whispered self-consciously. She wore black boots and a black beaded necklace around her neck to finish the outfit. Her hair was curlier than ever and I wanted to run my fingers through it. Instead, I knelt in the doorway and handed her the vase.
“I know traditionally you bring flowers on a first date, so I hope my single flower doesn’t disappoint you. I hope you know I made it especially for you with your beauty in my mind’s eye as I carved.”
She accepted the vase and spun it all the way around before glancing back to me, still kneeling by her chair. “It’s stunnin
g, Ren. You made this?”
I took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I did, for you. You told me you’re a wildlife artist and I wanted to make you something to last a lifetime, not just an evening.”
Her eyes met mine and she squeezed my hand. “Thank you, I will cherish it. I love the contrast of different types of wood and the stain technique you used to draw out its natural beauty. It makes it appear lifelike. You have great talent with wood.”
I smiled, probably more like grinned, from her praise. “Thank you. It’s something I like to do when I’m home alone. It relaxes me and passes the time.” I shut my mouth before I sounded desperate. I thrust the other box toward her. “Miss Mary also insisted I take this when I told her I had a date tonight.”
She set the vase on her lap and took the box, opening it and inhaling deeply. “Miss Mary’s apple pie,” she said on a sigh. “You remembered?”
I nodded and shrugged to make it appear less desperate. “You said you loved it.”
She laughed as she handed me the box and backed up her chair. “I did say that, didn’t I? Would you put it in the kitchen? I’ll grab my purse and we can go.” She pointed straight through a doorway and the kitchen sink beyond. She was running her hands over the planes of the flower and vase when I returned from the kitchen.
“This is truly exquisite in every way,” she said again.
I knelt next to her. “I’m thrilled you love it. I almost stopped making it a hundred times because I wasn’t sure if you would. I’m glad I finished it.”
She held it near her chest and smiled a smile which shot an arrow straight into my heart. She was mine. I no longer had any doubt about it. “I am, too. Seriously, Ren, I’ll cherish this. It will go by my bedside, so when I see it I think of you.”
Inherited Light_A Small-Town, California Romance Filled with Dogs, Deception, and Finding True Love Despite Our Imperfections Page 5
