For Everly

by Raine Thomas

  She pulled another tissue from her purse and wiped her cheeks, then her glasses.

  “Aiden was your age when he stopped livin’,” her grandpa said in the same quiet voice. “It would make my heart hurt less if you’d start livin’. I think Cole can help you with that.”

  A handful of arguments ran through her head, but she didn’t voice them.

  “Whatever happened ‘tween the two of you, I hope you’ll try ’n work it out. He’s a good boy who thinks the world of you. I think you should hear ‘im out. Will you, for me?”

  When she looked into her grandpa’s eyes, she knew she couldn’t deny him. As much as she’d been hurt the night before, she could admit that she wanted to know what brought Cole out to her house. Eventually, she nodded.

  “For us, Pee Paw. I’ll do it for us.”

  Chapter 17

  Cole stared at the television, but he didn’t absorb a single thing on the screen. His mind was on the conversation taking place on the front porch. He’d never felt this wretched in his entire life.

  What would he do if Everly refused to talk to him?

  While he waited, he looked around the tidy family room from his vantage point on the comfortable sofa. The wood floors looked original and well-maintained. An area rug in bold jewel tones covered the floor under an old wooden storage trunk that served as a coffee table. The sofa and single recliner were covered in beige micro-suede fabric and decorated with pillows in the same jewel tones as the rug. The entertainment unit was a fabricated wood type just big enough to hold the twenty-five inch tube television it supported.

  A rectangular piece of stained glass hung in the window facing the front porch. Sunlight filtered through it and cast brightly-colored prisms across the room. Outside of a few pictures of Everly and some framed images that looked like old wedding photos of her grandparents, there wasn’t anything on the deep beige walls. Still, it was homey and cheerful.

  When the door opened, he surged to his feet. His heart thundered in his chest as Everly walked in and closed the door behind her. She met his gaze with notable caution as she removed her coat and hung it in the small coat closet by the front door.

  Had she been crying? Oh, God. He would rot in the lowest bowels of Hell.

  “I’m sorry,” he blurted. Then he took a deep breath to help sound less spastic. “Everly, I’m sorry. I—”

  “You can apologize in the kitchen,” she interrupted. He couldn’t read anything in her expression. “I have dinner to get on.”

  “Oh. Sure.”

  Feeling like a prize ass, he followed her into the kitchen. It was just off the family room. Instead of the house having a separate dining room, the kitchen was a large, eat-in style. When she waved him over to one of the chairs at the wooden table, he sat down even though he didn’t feel like it.

  “Would you like something to drink?” she asked. She had bent down and opened a cabinet and now stood with a Crock Pot in her arms. “We have sweet tea.”

  His leg bobbed up and down as he watched her. “Everly, all I want to do is apologize for last night. I’ve never done anything that I’ve regretted more.”

  She plugged in the Crock Pot and moved over to the refrigerator to pull out a package of cubed beef. As she unwrapped it and dumped it into the Crock Pot, she said, “I know you’re worried about your arm, Cole. But you’ve learned the basic exercises now. Just keep—”

  “Don’t do this,” he said. Unable to sit still, he stood up and moved closer to her. She threw out the meat tray and washed her hands. “You know I’m not here because of my arm.”

  “I know no such thing,” she countered, drying her hands on a towel tossed over the oven’s handle. She pushed her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose and glanced at him. “What I do know is you came to my place of employment last night and accused me of being a deceitful psycho.”

  Her voice wavered. She turned her back to him, walking to the pantry and bringing out several cans. He ran a hand across his mouth. Lord, how he hated himself.

  “Everly, I want you to know that I wasn’t aware of the specific details about your past when I went to Prix Fixe last night. I’d had drinks with my ex-girlfriend, Rebecca, because she wanted to try and rekindle things and I had to tell her I wasn’t interested.”

  Her shoulders tensed when he mentioned Rebecca, then eased when he said he had met with her to fend her off. A tiny portion of his anxiety eased over that observation. He watched as she opened a couple cans of tomatoes and dumped them in with the beef.

  “I didn’t know it at the time, but Rebecca has basically been stalking me. She knew about you.”

  Everly froze. “What?”

  “She saw you coming and going to my house. I suspect she slashed your tires last night.”

  Her eyes wide, Everly turned all the way around to face him. “People actually do those things? I thought that was just an old movie cliché. Sweet Jesus. And you called me a psycho?”

  Pacing in frustration, he tossed his hands into the air. “I didn’t use the word psycho.” Had he? Damn it. “And that’s just the thing. Rebecca fed me these lines about your past and they got under my skin. I didn’t realize at the time that she’d told me things completely out of context just to rile me up. I’d had just enough to drink to be dangerously stupid, which I proved by going to see you.”

  She turned back around and opened a cabinet with spices in it. “So it’s Rebecca’s fault?”

  “Of course not,” he said, barely maintaining his patience. She wasn’t making this easy. “I’m to blame for going off half-cocked. I was focused on myself. My feelings.” He stopped pacing as the words hit him. When had he become such a selfish ass? “I’m sorry that I didn’t stop to consider yours.”

  “Well, I appreciate you coming to apologize,” she said as she added spices to the pot without measuring them. “But as you have such concerns about my honesty and worries that I’ll reveal your injury to the world, it’s still best that we part ways.”

  The words sliced at him. Deciding to ignore her order to never touch her, he reached out and caught her hand as she finished putting away a container of chili powder. When she tried to pull her hand away, he held on tighter. Then he slowly turned her around so she faced him again.

  “Everly, my unjustified anger yesterday was motivated only in a small part by a fear that you would tell anyone about my injury.”

  She stared at him, confusion in her lovely eyes. He reached up to touch a curl that had escaped her ponytail. He’d wanted to feel her hair for quite some time. It was every bit as soft as he’d imagined.

  Tucking the tendril behind her ear, he watched her cheeks color. Her breathing became irregular. Was she reacting to his touch?

  “The real reason I was so out of sorts was because I thought Aiden was a guy you were dating. And since I’d decided that I wanted to ask you out on a date, I was jealous.”

  She blinked. Then she blinked again. Trying to think of a response, she moistened her lips. His gaze moved briefly to her mouth.

  “You said those things to me because you were jealous?”

  “I said them because I was an intoxicated jackwagon. Yeah, I was jealous, but I should never have done and said what I did.”

  She just stood there for a moment, considering his words. Then she pulled her hand from his. Uncertainty shadowed her expression as she turned to open a can of beans.

  “So, if I continue to work with you, is this Rebecca person going to come after me or what?”

  If. She was actually considering it. Relief surged through him.

  “I seriously don’t know what got into her. I’m sure she got it out of her system, though, and I’ll pay you back for the tires,” he said. “I had no idea she was like this, Everly. I swear.”

  “Would you get me a beer out of the fridge?” she asked.

  “Uh, sure.” He opened the fridge and pulled one out, handing it to her.

  She twisted off the top and dumped the contents into the p
ot. “You sure you want to go from one psycho to another?” she asked, her tone casual.

  “I know you’re not a psycho,” he said in a quiet voice.

  She turned to look at him over her shoulder. Her eyes swept over his face, reading his expression. Pursing her lips, she nodded.

  “So you did your research.”

  “I did a little,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. It now felt like an invasion of privacy. “I began to realize that I didn’t really know what the hell Rebecca was talking about, so I…checked.” When she just stirred the contents in the Crock Pot in silence, he added, “I’m very sorry about your brother.”

  She banged the spoon on the side of the Crock Pot and then set it on a ceramic spoon rest. After covering the pot with the lid, she looked again at him.

  “I believe you are. Thank you.”

  They stood there in awkward silence. He didn’t know what else to say. He’d already laid his cards on the table and done more apologizing to her than he had to anyone he could remember. Yet she didn’t seem eager to give him another chance.

  “Is there anything I can do or say to convince you how sorry I am and that we should start fresh…give things another try?” he asked at last.

  She stared at him for a moment. Then a small smile touched her lips.

  “Actually, there is one thing…”

  Chapter 18

  Everly was a hero among the neighborhood kids, and all because she convinced Cole Parker to play a game of baseball with them.

  The truth of it was, she hadn’t had to convince him at all. He’d jumped on board the moment she asked him. Even though she imagined his jeans, long-sleeved T-shirt, and sneakers cost more than her monthly food budget, he walked with her and twenty-seven kids over to the local ball field with a smile on his face and ready answers for all of the questions thrown his way by his eager fans.

  It was pretty adorable, really. Rayshawn’s eyes widened to the size of Dixie dinner plates when she told him that Cole wanted to play. They hadn’t returned to normal yet. He hadn’t moved less than a foot from Cole’s side since leaving Everly’s house. Ray’s sister, Jayden, latched onto Cole’s hand when they had to cross the street and she didn’t let go.

  They got to the field and gathered around home plate. Not for the first time, Everly wished for powdered chalk to draw true foul lines, but she knew they’d have to deal without it. At least the fence in the outfield would keep the ball largely contained, and the red Georgia clay peeking out from the dead grass did enough to define the baselines. The field was only rarely groomed by the city since there weren’t any registered leagues playing there, so she was grateful for what they had.

  She watched Cole examine the field as they approached it. Because the kids were jabbering at him and his attention was split, she couldn’t tell what he thought. Was it ironic that the professional ballpark he played in was less than two miles from here? Did he notice the bare patches of grass in the outfield and the large divots in the infield? Was he embarrassed to play on a field that paled in comparison to his usual one?

  As they stood by home plate as a group, all eyes turned to him.

  “Y’all play here a lot?” he asked.

  “Yep,” Rayshawn answered. “Durin’ the summer, we replay your games sometimes. Evs bought us the real bases to use and everythin’.”

  Everly felt her face grow hot when Cole looked at her. Then he smiled.

  “This is just like the diamond near my family’s home that made me fall in love with baseball,” he said, not looking away from her. Then he glanced at all of the kids. “Y’all should be proud of what you’ve got here.”

  A cheer went up. Everly couldn’t help but smile over the sound. Soon, she and Cole had teams created with an equal number of kids of ages varying from eight to eighteen. They did their best to make the teams equal.

  Because Everly wanted Cole to protect his arm as much as possible, she had him serve as an umpire behind the plate. Jayden, too young to play, insisted on staying near Cole, so she stood behind the fence right behind home plate. Everly served as the line ump, switching from first to third base depending on whether the batter was right or left-handed. One of the eighteen-year-olds opted to serve as a third umpire in the outfield.

  They had a great time. The game took almost three hours with all of the jeering, cheering, and confusion that resulted from having so many kids in one place. In the end, Rayshawn’s team won by two runs.

  It was nearing five o’clock when they reached Everly’s house. Since the kids followed them and begged Cole to autograph their equipment, she went inside and grabbed a couple of pens and Sharpies. She brought them out and watched as he sat in one of the plastic porch chairs and signed anything the kids put in front of him. He didn’t even have to ask their names. He’d learned them while they played, and addressed them each personally as they handed him things to sign.

  To Everly, it went a long way toward excusing his atrocious behavior from the night before.

  She went inside and greeted her grandpa while Cole stayed outside. He filled her in on the details about the Falcons’ win and asked her how the game went. As she checked on the chili and threw together some cornbread, she told him all the details.

  About twenty minutes later, she went to check on Cole. Aside from Rayshawn and Jayden, two boys remained with him on the porch, chatting with him. Everly held back a smile as she recognized Lawrence and Nate, two kids who waved at her when they saw her but didn’t spend much time talking with her. They were tall, athletic boys in their late teens. She knew they lived with single mothers and hung out a lot with the kids in the neighborhood who attended their school, but they conducted themselves differently than the other kids.

  “All right, y’all,” she said. “I’ve got chili and cornbread for anyone who wants it. Anyone else needs to head on home.” She looked around the group as she spoke and settled on Cole when she said the last words.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, getting to his feet.

  Everyone looked at Cole, then at her.

  “Sounds great, Ms. Everly,” Lawrence said. Nate nodded beside him. “Thanks for the invite.”

  Everly looked at Rayshawn. “Should I call your ma?”

  “We’re good,” he said. “Mama’s at work.” Then he glanced at Jayden, who sat on the porch playing with a couple of wild-haired Barbie dolls. “'Cept…do you have any mac n’ cheese?”

  “I think we can figure something out,” she said.

  It was one of the best meals she’d enjoyed in years. The males gathered in the family room to watch ESPN, either sitting on the floor around the coffee table or dragging chairs from the kitchen table to eat around the television. She sat with Jayden in the kitchen, talking to her as they ate their separate meals of chili and Kraft Dinner. The little girl was sharp as a tack, chatting away about subjects that Everly didn’t remember learning until she was much older.

  Occasionally, shouts emerged from the family room. Everly had no idea what game they were watching, but it warmed her heart to hear her grandpa adding his two cents to the good-hearted banter. She knew Cole’s presence was just as much a thrill for him as it was the kids.

  After dinner, she sent the kids home since it was a school night. When they all tried to convince her otherwise, Cole promised to come back. It was enough to get them out the door.

  She walked around the family room collecting dishes for washing and wasn’t sure what to think when Cole helped her. From what she had witnessed over the past couple weeks, the most he did to clean up after himself was put things near the sink for the housekeeper to handle. It was strange seeing him voluntarily doing such a domestic task.

  They walked back into the kitchen together. She’d already filled the sink with warm soapy water, so she set the bowls and plates into it.

  “Where’s the dishwasher?” Cole asked.

  “You’re looking at her.”

  “Oh.” He looked flummoxed for a moment, then approached
the sink and added the dishes he carried to the water. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Sure,” she said, handing him the dishtowel. “I’ll tell you where everything goes.”

  They got into a rhythm of washing and drying, but they didn’t speak outside of her telling him where to store things. Although Cole watched her and seemed as though he wanted to talk, she was suddenly unsure of herself. A month ago, she never would have dreamed she’d be standing in her grandpa’s small kitchen with Cole Parker drying the dishes. Now, she was hyper-aware of him.

  “Are you going to stop avoiding me now?” he asked when he put the last dish away.

  “What do you mean?” She pulled a fresh towel out of a drawer so she could dry her hands. “We’ve been together most of the day.”

  He handed her the wet dishtowel and held her gaze. “You stayed as far from me as you could at every turn.”

  Since she was pressed against the stove, she couldn’t back away from him. He was entirely too close. She could smell the soap he used. She could see the green flecks in his eyes. She could feel the warmth from his hard body.

  “I…didn’t mean to,” she said softly.

  When his gaze moved to her mouth, she instinctively moistened her lips. His eyes darkened in color. She knew she had to be honest with him if they were going to start fresh.

  “It’s what my former therapist used to call a defense mechanism,” she continued in the same quiet voice. Now, his eyes returned to hers. “I’m better about it now, but it still happens. I keep distance between myself and others, especially if I feel they’re getting too close too fast.”

  He considered that in silence. Then he eased back a step. The action both relieved and disappointed her.

  “All right,” he said at last. “I can understand that. Really. I’m fine with moving at your pace.” His eyes scanned her face. “I just hope you won’t cut me out completely. I value your friendship.”

  And she not only valued his, but could see it progressing beyond friendship in no time at all. She’d never gotten so comfortable with someone so easily. Thus, she’d tried to separate herself from him. It was up to her to decide if she really wanted to maintain that separation or if she wanted to take her grandpa’s advice…and start living.