Playing for the Save (Men of Spring Baseball Book 3)

by Rachelle Ayala

  “I hope you’ll forgive me for not calling first,” Mrs. Hudson entered the house and removed her white gloves.

  “Is Ryan okay?” Jamie showed her into the living room. “Please, have a seat. Do you take coffee or tea?”

  “Ryan’s fine, and I’ll have a spot of tea. Cream but no sugar.” Frances swept her skirt and sat on the sofa.

  Jamie’s heart thundered in her chest as she prepared a pot of Assam black tea. Was she in some kind of trouble? Why would Ryan’s mother want to see her? Had she come to tell her to leave her son alone? Did she think she was a gold digger, trying to foist herself and her sons on Ryan?

  She found Frances staring at the rows of cars and trucks Drew had lined up along the walls as well as posters and instruction sheets showing Drew what to do.

  Jamie set the tea service on the coffee table and poured tea into the teacups.

  “Are you here to talk about Ryan?” Jamie asked. She kept her voice steady and stirred her tea.

  “No, Ryan is fine. I may be butting in where I’m not welcome, but I’m concerned about a few things he’s told me.”

  Jamie braced herself and tried not to grit her teeth. She was used to people passing judgment on her and her sons, but she had never had a complete stranger come into her house to tell her off.

  “As long as Ryan is okay, I’m not sure what you have to be concerned about.” That was rude, but no ruder than Mrs. Hudson’s intrusion.

  “How shall I phrase this?” Frances seemed at a loss for words. Again, she glanced at the neat line of cars and trucks. “Ryan told me about Drew’s meltdown and the night he kept you up.”

  “Yes, but if Ryan lost sleep, it was his own fault for hanging around.” Jamie couldn’t help being defensive. “I know he’s supposed to rest and recuperate from his surgery, but honestly, he’s a grown man and I didn’t make him stay up with me.”

  “That’s not what I’m concerned about,” Frances said. “Ryan is a good man, and he cares about you, Drew, and Ben. He’s worried that he did something to set off Drew’s night terror.”

  “He didn’t do anything. I assure you,” Jamie said. “Both boys miss him very much, but you have to understand where I’m coming from. I can’t let my sons get attached to someone, no matter how kind he is to them. I’m sure Ryan told you about Drew’s autism, and I just can’t have my sons hurt when Ryan goes back to the big leagues.”

  “Ryan would never hurt two little boys he adores,” Frances said, her cheeks flushing. “He told me about your ex-husband swinging a baseball bat at Drew to scare him. That has both of us very concerned.”

  “Drew wouldn’t play ball with him,” Jamie sputtered. “He says he was showing Drew how to swing a bat.”

  “And you believe that?” Frances set her teacup and saucer on the coffee table. “Did you see it happen or hear about it?”

  “I heard about it from Ben. But when I asked Andrew about it, he said Ben was exaggerating.”

  “Drew flew into a terror, didn’t he?” Frances had a valid point.

  “Yes, he did. That night, he stayed up screaming and pounding his head against the wall.”

  “The night Ryan was here, did you ask Drew afterwards what had set him off?”

  Jamie shook her head. “Drew withdrew into a shell and refused to speak. I took him to the doctor and he wouldn’t talk to the doctor either. I was afraid he’d regressed into a non-communicative state until Ryan showed up with a puppy. Now, it’s all he’ll talk about.”

  “Maybe you should ask him what he saw when he banged his head against the wall.” Frances smoothed her skirt, flicking off a piece of lint.

  “He’s probably forgotten by now,” Jamie said. “I don’t want to remind him and set off another episode.”

  “I’m sure he remembers. Kids like him remember very detailed images. It’s sometimes jumbled up in there, and they have trouble organizing the images in their mind.”

  “You seem to know about autism,” Jamie said. “When I asked Ryan why he knew how to handle Drew, he said he didn’t know anyone with autism.”

  “Well, he knows Drew, so that can’t be true,” Frances said snappily.

  “I’m sure he meant anyone outside of Drew,” Jamie said. She glanced at the wall clock. “I thank you for dropping by, but I have to pick up the boys soon.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to hold you up,” Frances said. “But I would like to get to know you better. Maybe we can have lunch. My treat.”

  “I, uh, would …” Jamie was flustered. She couldn’t turn Frances down, but why would Ryan’s mother want to have lunch with her? She and Ryan weren’t even in a relationship.

  “Okay, I don’t want to push,” Frances said. “But if you ever need a friend to talk to about anything, Drew’s therapies, Ben’s baseball, or you just want to get something off your chest, give me a call.”

  “Sure, okay, I can do that,” Jamie said, eager to hustle Frances out the door. “Please give my regards to Ryan.”

  “I will.” Frances dabbed at her lips with a folded napkin and rose from the couch. “Let me leave you with this thought. He who bruises your soul is your jailer whether the chains are visible or not. I pray you will break free of him, and if you need my help, you must call me.”

  “I’m fine, really, and I appreciate your sentiment,” Jamie said, hurrying Frances to the door.

  “Do it for yourself.” Frances slipped her a card. “If not for your sons.”

  Jamie bade Frances goodbye and shut the door, letting out a deep, stale breath. Andrew was a jerk, true, but he wasn’t dangerous. He would never hurt their sons, no matter how frustrating Drew could be.

  She closed her eyes and played back the memory Frances had dredged up. It had been another one of those visitation days where Drew had refused to go near Andrew. Jamie had forced Drew to go to the park with him, and had taken the afternoon to do some much needed shopping.

  When Andrew dropped the boys off, they were subdued, but seemed fine. She’d thought they were both tired out. That night, however, Drew had flown into a fit, and Ben had insisted it was because Andrew swung a bat at him, saying he’d hit him upside the head if he didn’t act like a normal boy and play ball with him.

  Of course, Jamie wasn’t the type of mother to stand for it. She’d called Andrew immediately, in the wee hours of the night, and had it out with him.

  Andrew had explained it differently. He said he was demonstrating how to hit the ball, and Drew, not sensing danger, had walked toward him. He claimed he’d choked his swing to avoid hitting him, and then he was upset at her for believing Ben’s exaggerations. He’d turned the tables on Jamie and accused her of trying to smear him to get more money. And he’d reminded her that if her lies put him in jail, there would be no alimony, no child support, and no special classes and treatments for Drew.

  He’d given her fair warning and she had agonized and worried and apologized to him, groveling, until he stopped threatening to cut them off.

  Could this be what Frances had meant? That she was held prisoner by fear of what Andrew could and would do to her? To her sons?

  Jamie stared at the business card Frances left with her. Dr. Leslie Sparks, Psychotherapist, specializing in Anger Management, Domestic Violence, and Sexual Addictions.

  On the back, Frances had jotted her phone number and a note: Please call Leslie as she can help you figure out what to do to protect yourself and your boys, followed by the words she had spoken:

  He who bruises your soul is your jailer.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Ryan put on his baseball uniform and took a taxi to Ben’s school for the assembly. He’d been in contact with Mrs. Udelhoven who’d relayed Ben’s fears that he wouldn’t show up.

  The teacher didn’t pry into why Ben was so worried, but Ryan was sure everyone knew Jamie had kicked him out, along with his puppy.

  As soon as he got out of the taxi, children swarmed around him. He put Hershey down and attached his leash, then asked for directio
ns to the office.

  “That’s easy. We have painted footsteps,” a little girl said. “See, right there? You follow the yellow footsteps to the office.”

  Hershey’s tail wagged his entire rump as he sniffed and greeted the children. The bell hadn’t rung yet, so parents also milled around, chattering with their children.

  Ryan scanned the parents dropping off their children, hoping to see Jamie and her boys. His mother hadn’t told him what she and Jamie had talked about. She said they had a good conversation and she was worried about Jamie. So worried, that she’d given Jamie a referral to a therapist for abuse victims. Of course, she couldn’t make Jamie go see the woman, but she had pressed her card into her hand before leaving.

  He hadn’t been aware of all the nuances of emotional abuse, but after his mother pointed him to a few reference books and websites, he’d been shocked to discover how common it was. It was bullying targeted at a significant other, but well hidden by the perpetrator behind other more noble motives, such as providing for them, helping them achieve or be a better person, or even as simple as knowing what was best.

  It all had to do with control, and Andrew was using both intimidation as well as monetary support as a means to control who Jamie made friends with and what she did with the boys.

  The baseball bat, even if wielded as a “joke,” had been a form of intimidation. With his new knowledge and his mother’s ranting about how insidious emotional abuse was and how easily it could escalate to physical abuse, Ryan was more determined than ever to protect Jamie.

  If Andrew ever tried anything on her while he was around, he would throw the bully out and make sure he never returned. How dare that creep terrorize the three people Ryan had begun to think of as family?

  “Mom, he’s over there.” Ben’s voice sailed over the heads of his classmates. “I knew he’d be here. Can Drew stay for the assembly? Please? Please?”

  Ryan couldn’t help grinning when he saw his three most favorite people bearing down on him.

  “Hi, Ryan. Hi, Hershey!” Ben dropped his backpack and hugged the puppy, who licked his face.

  “Hi, Ryan!” Drew’s sharp voice pierced through the hum of other voices. “That’s my dog. Mommy, see my dog?”

  Ryan’s gaze honed in on the beautiful brunette who didn’t realize how pretty she was with her hair ruffled and out of control.

  Jamie smiled shyly and her dimple winked at him as she tried to restrain Drew from barreling into him. She swiped a strand of dark brown hair that had fallen in her face and let Drew’s heavy backpack slip from her shoulders.

  “You’re here for the assembly,” Jamie said. “Ben was so worried.”

  “I’m a man of my word.” Ryan gave her a wink, and was heartened that she blushed. “Drew’s welcome to stay.”

  “Oh, I’m not sure. He’s not a second grader …” Jamie trailed off. “I really should take him to his class. He’s missed a few days already.”

  “Actually, I need Drew to help me with the assembly,” Ryan said. “After the pep talk, we’re moving to the backstop where every kid will get a chance to throw a pitch. I need Drew to demonstrate how it’s done.”

  By now, a crowd of parents and children had gathered around, gawking, and Jamie seemed uneasy with his attention. She kept looking over her shoulder. Was she worried about Andrew or one of his spies?

  “Mom, let Drew demonstrate,” Ben said, jumping to his feet. “I told everyone in school how Drew never misses the target.”

  “How about you demonstrate?” Jamie asked Ben. “I’m sure your friends would rather see you up there.”

  “I don’t know …” Ben shrugged. “I’m better at batting, not pitching.”

  Ryan noticed a group of older boys standing around, nudging each other.

  Finally, the leader of the group, a tall one with an upturned nose, stepped forward and said, “I can do the demo. I’m a Little League pitcher.”

  “Yeah, let Wyatt demo,” another boy, a gangly one, said. “He’s the team captain.”

  “Actually, it’s a second grade assembly,” Ryan said. “Ben invited me, so I think it’s only fair if he demos along with his brother.”

  “You mean the dummy who can’t talk?” the gangly one, an obvious suck-up to Wyatt, said with a sneer.

  “Look at him,” another boy chimed in. “He’s making out with the dog. I bet he eats on the floor like a dog, too.”

  “Yeah, Rush Boy, your brother’s a dumb ass.” A voice shouted from behind the crowd.

  “No, he’s not.” Ben puffed out his chest at the bigger boys at the same time Ryan said, “That’s enough.”

  Jamie, meanwhile, tried to get Drew to leave the dog. Her cheeks were bright red and she looked down at her feet. “Come on, Drew. We have to go to your class now.”

  “No, I want my dog,” Drew said, digging in his heels.

  Ryan stared down the older boys. “Let me get one thing straight. I don’t tolerate bullying, and I won’t allow anyone on my baseball team who picks on other kids. I want all of you to apologize to Ben, Drew, and Mrs. Rush right now.”

  “I didn’t say anything mean,” Wyatt said.

  “You didn’t, but you should have stood up for Ben and Drew when your friends criticized them.”

  The other boys hung their heads and said, “Sorry.”

  They walked away when the bell rang.

  “Well, I have to be going,” Jamie said, still not meeting Ryan’s gaze. “It was nice seeing you, and thanks for doing the assembly.”

  “So, you’re leaving Drew with me?” Ryan winked. “I can’t do the assembly without my star pitcher.”

  “He’s more interested in the dog,” Jamie said, shrugging. “I was actually wondering where you got him. Thanks to you, the boys want a dog now, and I’d feel guilty if I didn’t give them one.”

  “What’s wrong with Hershey?” Ryan picked up Drew’s heavy backpack and tugged at the dog’s leash as they walked toward Ben’s classroom.

  The puppy bounded and scampered in that adorable, floppy way that puppies had. He shook his head and his ears flapped and his nose was busy sniffing and getting to know all the new friends he’d met.

  “He’s yours,” Jamie said, trying to keep her gaze away from Hershey.

  Ryan leaned close to her and said in a low voice, “I should have asked you first, but Hershey is a gift to Drew for his birthday. Didn’t you say it’s coming up?”

  “It is, but you shouldn’t have presumed.” Her voice was tight, and she was still resisting Hershey’s cuteness as he tugged at her shoelace and untied it.

  “You’re right, and I apologize. I’m not trying to control you or anything. I got so carried away with the idea of getting Drew a dog, I forgot he isn’t my son. But since you want to get him a dog anyway, you can have Hershey.”

  “I want to, but I don’t know if I can manage it,” Jamie said as they got close to the second grade pod. “When will I have time to walk him and train him? It’s another creature I have to take care of.”

  This was the opening he’d been waiting for. Sliding his arm around her shoulders, he said, “I’ll make you a deal. You take Hershey home, and I’ll come to your house every day to paper train him and walk him twice a day. You won’t even notice me. I’ll let myself in while you’re out with the boys.”

  “As if I won’t be able to help noticing you!” She flashed him a smile, her eyes livening up. “You, Ryan Hudson, are nothing if not persistent.”

  Bending down, she retied her shoelace and rubbed Hershey behind the ears. “And you are his secret weapon. So irresistible.”

  “That I am, ma’am.” He tipped his baseball cap. “And as I recall, you owe me a dinner date. Friday sound good?”

  “Give him an inch and he takes a yard.” She chuckled to herself, clearly pleased with his attention.

  He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Lend me Drew for the assembly, and I’ll show you more inches than you can handle.”

  CHAPT
ER THIRTY-THREE

  Jamie didn’t want to be sitting on the bench at the side of the baseball diamond watching Ryan Hudson give his spiel to the second graders. She didn’t want to be drooling over him as he swaggered around in those nice, tight baseball pants, and the crisp uniform with his name and number across the back. She hated staring at those strong shoulders, the broad back, and the firm ass, knowing how all of it worked in her bed.

  Most of all, she could kick herself for backsliding and letting Ryan help her—first with the boys, who were oh, so excited with their roles in the assembly, then the dog, which she tried to hold still at her feet, and most of all, knowing that she could never be as strong as some of the other autism mothers who juggled jobs, autistic twins, two dogs, and an absentee father.

  What had made her say she couldn’t even handle walking a mere dog twice a day?

  Still, she couldn’t help being proud of both Drew and Ben. They’d both stood in front of the microphone and told how they met Ryan at the ballpark. Ben talked about the batting cage, and Drew told everyone how he pitched, explaining the difference between a two-seam fastball and a four-seam fastball. Drew talked about the trajectories of all the pitches and wouldn’t stop until Ryan asked him to demonstrate.

  The school had hung a giant wooden target board on the backstop, and Drew showed everyone how he could hit the target each time. Jamie’s heart could have burst with pride with every “oh” and “ah” from the crowd, especially the applause at the end when Ryan had Drew take a bow.

  Her son was a star and it was all due to Ryan Hudson.

  Chalk it up to another thing she owed that man who was too perfect to be true. Why would he pay so much attention to her and her little family when he was so famous he could surround himself with stars?

  “Hey, mind if I sit here?” Marcia tapped Jamie on the shoulder.

  “Sure,” Jamie said, making room on the bench. “Good to see you.”

  “I got here late, and I only caught the tail end of Drew’s pitching run,” Marcia explained. “We ought to get the kids together to play ball. I signed Bianca up for T-ball. Have you signed Ben and Drew up yet?”