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

by Rachelle Ayala

  The night air was still and dry, crackling with static, electric with heat, and as Ryan stared into those big, expressive eyes of Jamie’s, he knew without a doubt that he had to come clean to her. How would she react?

  She’d just accepted him into her life.

  Would she throw him out if she found out he’d been suspected of having autism? It wasn’t as if he couldn’t handle life. His mother and the special education had trained him well.

  He was functioning normally. Hadn’t had a meltdown in ages.

  “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.” Jamie’s brows furrowed and she touched his cheek with her fingertips. “Is there something you need to let me know?”

  He inhaled through his nose and took a step back. “I don’t much need taking care of.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you. I meant things like what’s your favorite food. What do you like to do on a Sunday morning. What annoys you. Things like that. I want to take care of all those things.”

  “I don’t much like vacuum cleaners,” he said, staying on a safe topic. “The noise gets on my nerves.”

  “See? We found something.” She pointed at him. “I love the sound of vacuum cleaners. It drowns out all the little nagging voices inside me and calms me. Drew, of course, can’t stand vacuum cleaners, so I have to clean when he’s away. Anything else?”

  “I like to sleep naked.” He wiggled his fingers. “And sometimes, I can’t stand the feel of my clothes.”

  “Are you hypersensitive?” She took his hands and held them still. “Drew does that sometimes. He can’t stand the feel of fabrics or touch on his skin, so he wiggles his hands, as if he could escape his skin.”

  “I’m not Drew.” His voice was tight in his throat, like he’d swallowed rocks.

  “No, but you have a special understanding of him. Did you know someone who had autism growing up?” She rubbed the backs of his hands, and he had the overwhelming urge to jump out of his skin. Her questions were getting too close for comfort, but at the same time, a little voice nagged at him.

  Tell her. Tell her now. Tell her before it’s too late.

  “I’m not the same as Drew,” Ryan said. “But I am different. Growing up, I never fit in. People thought I was weird. You know how I like water? It fascinates me to watch water. I have a water wall at my apartment, and I can watch it endlessly.”

  There, he’d given her a hint of his life and how he adapted to feeling out of place, but not enough to send her running for the hills.

  “It sounds like you’ve got a bit of autism yourself.” Her eyes danced merrily as she wagged his hand back and forth. “You’re using water to self-calm. Sometimes your skin crawls and you want to jump out of it, but other times, you bury yourself under mounds of blankets and weights to make you feel safe and secure, maybe like being back in your mother’s womb.”

  Ryan gulped, swallowing air like a fish gasping for water. She hadn’t run away yet. She was still holding his hand, and she looked amused.

  Should he admit it or deny it? Ryan teetered at the edge of a waterfall, looking down, wondering if he should make the jump.

  Jingle. Jingle. Jingle. Jamie’s phone sounded.

  “Oh, sorry, let me get that,” Jamie said, holding up her hand.

  As she spoke to the caller, her face fell and she flapped her free hand. “How long has he been missing?”

  “Missing? Who’s missing?” Ryan asked.

  Jamie lowered the phone as if in a daze. “Drew’s disappeared. Marcia’s dad left the gate open and he took off.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  ~ Drew ~

  I run because I feel free. My arms are wings, and if I flap as fast as a hummingbird, I can soar up above everyone. What fun it would be to look at everyone’s heads and spit on them.

  Ryan ran because he likes to fly. He’s like a balloon that grows bigger and bigger. Then he flies away like a balloon.

  I go faster and faster. Everything blurs when it’s night and I get dizzy when I look up at all the shiny stars.

  Twinkle. Twinkle. Twinkle.

  Who are all the stars up there? If I fly high enough, will I be a star?

  Woof. Woof.

  It’s my puppy. My puppy follows me and I follow him.

  We’re going to find Ryan. He left because Mommy made him cry, and he doesn’t want anyone to see him cry.

  Except me. I’m smart and I hide easily. The grownups didn’t know I was hiding in the pantry, eating cookies. I can disappear into the wall and no one will see me, because I’m in the wall.

  Ryan goes fishing when he’s sad. Mommy made him sad. If I catch a big fish, I can make Ryan happy.

  “Hershey, let’s catch fish. Where is the fish?”

  Pictures flash and I can see the canal. The water and the fish. I’m smart and I remember where the car turned. The pictures show me where to go. I see a sign and a bridge.

  I flap my hands and roar. “Fishy, I will chase you out of the water.”

  My puppy barks. He’s happy to run into the water with me.

  “Fish, here I come.”

  I run down the street and turn toward the bridge. My feet hurt on the sharp rocks and I see the smooth line of the canal.

  My feet will feel good on the line. It’s cool and flat and the water is dark, hiding the fish from me.

  I lift my foot above the line and stop.

  Mommy said not to cross the line. I have to stay on the dirt and the sharp little rocks.

  Hershey doesn’t listen. I grab his collar. “No, you cannot step on the line.”

  I point to the hard smooth bank and stamp my feet on the dirt. “You stay here. No crossing the line.”

  Hershey is a good dog. He keeps his feet behind the line, but his head goes over and he sniffs for fish.

  I can do that too. I put my feet behind the line and my hands on the hard smooth bank and I lie down on my stomach.

  “You see any fish?”

  Hershey snuffles and shakes his head, flapping his ears.

  I flap my hands at the water. Maybe the fish will jump into my hands. The water ripples and I see a fish.

  “Fish. Fish, come here.” I wiggle my fingers to make the fish jump. “Come here, fish.”

  I lean down to reach the fish. My feet are still behind the line. Just a little further.

  I can almost get the fish.

  Hershey barks and runs away.

  “Hey, help me with the fish!”

  He wags his tail at a light waving around like a shooting star.

  I turn back to the dark, black water.

  Someone lies down next to me.

  “Hey, bud, catch any fish?” he asks. “Mind if I help?”

  It’s Ryan. My friend.

  “I saw a fish,” I say. “He waved at me, but he didn’t want to jump.”

  “No, he didn’t jump,” Ryan says. “But he flew so high, he went up there.”

  He points to all the shining twinkling stars.

  I look up and up until I’m dizzy. “Where’s the fish?”

  “Let’s go lie on that table so we can see it better,” Ryan says.

  I follow him to the wooden table and climb onto it.

  He turns off his light, lies down next to me, and points up to the stars. “You see that group of stars up there? Draw a line from the tail to the fin, and there, you see? Is the head.”

  I can see lots and lots of patterns and I match them to the pictures inside of me. It’s easy, like the computer games I play with Dianne. They have me do easy things like stick shapes in the hole, but the star shapes are much more interesting.

  “I can see lots of fishes up there,” I point to a river of fishes twinkling as they swim across the sky. “Will I get to be a fish someday?”

  “Yes,” Ryan says. “You and I will swim up there. It’ll be great fun. We can jump and splash as much as we want.”

  “Promise?” I don’t dare look at his face in case he decides not to do as he says.

  “I promis
e.” He sits up and takes out his phone. “But first, I need to ask your mother.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  “How do we know he ran out? What if he’s hiding inside the house?” one of the police officers said to Jamie, after examining the gate while the others searched the yard.

  “I’m sure he isn’t inside the house. We looked everywhere.” Jamie’s heart went to hell and back as she wrung her hands and paced between the police officers. “He’s not in his favorite closet or hiding in the pantry.”

  “Favorite closet?” The officer gave her a sidelong glance. “Are you saying you lock him in the closet?”

  “No, he has a timeout closet,” Ben supplied helpfully. “He goes in there to calm down.”

  “I want to see this closet,” the policeman said. “I’m going to call in for a dog to see if he’s hiding somewhere.”

  “I’m telling you, he’s not here.” Jamie clenched the side of her jeans as the officer opened the closet door and shined his flashlight. “We’re wasting our time looking in the house.”

  Drew could be anywhere, kidnapped, run over by a car, or eaten by wild dogs. Jamie thought of her boy out there, all by himself, scared, confused, whirling around lost, calling out to her.

  “Many times, children think it’s fun to hide and cause a big commotion,” the officer said. “Especially if they don’t get enough attention. You say you were having a meeting?”

  “Yes, but Marcia’s father was watching the children.” Jamie bit her lip in frustration. “He was the one who saw the gate open and said Drew was gone.”

  “How convenient. We’ll need a statement from him,” the officer said. He turned to his partner. “Call in for a search and rescue dog.”

  “Will do.” The younger officer glanced suspiciously at Jamie. “Do you think there’s been foul play?”

  “It could be anything,” the older policeman declared as if he were the presiding detective in a parlor game. “Let’s gather all the witnesses into the living room and interview them.”

  “Some of them are out searching for Drew,” Jamie said. “Why aren’t you out there looking for him? Can’t you go door to door?”

  “We called in a bulletin and have activated our missing children protocol,” the officer said, as if all he cared about was following procedures.

  “Forget protocol,” Jamie shouted. Her heart expanded and contracted like a crazy accordion. “I’m going back out there.”

  If she lost Drew, she’d never forgive herself for running after Ryan. What kind of mother was she to put a man ahead of her child? Ryan obviously could take care of himself, and he was just letting off steam.

  Meanwhile, Drew could be seriously hurt, if he weren’t already dead. She pushed the awful thought from her mind. She had to get out there and find him.

  “Mom,” she called to her mother. “Can you help the policemen? I have to find Drew if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “Come, now, don’t be so melodramatic,” her mother said with a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Everyone’s looking for him. He’s got the dog.”

  “But where is he?” Jamie whispered. “Where’s my boy?”

  “Ryan’s out there looking. He’ll know where Drew is,” her mother consoled her. “He and Drew have a special connection. It’s strange, but it’s like they understand each other.”

  Jamie hastily dashed tears from her eyes. “Where’s my phone? I need to meet up with Ryan.”

  “Right here,” Ben said. He ran up with her phone. “You have a text message from Ryan.”

  “Ryan.” Jamie fumbled to unlock her phone. She hastily scanned the message. “He found him. Ryan found Drew.”

  “He did?” Jamie’s mother peered at the phone screen. “Where?”

  “They’re at the canal. Drew wanted to go fishing.” Jamie let the tears stream down her face. “Drew wanted to catch a fish.”

  “Is everything okay, ma’am?” the officer asked. “Do you need a ride to the canal?”

  “No, we’re good. Ryan’s bringing Drew back.” Jamie texted a message to all of the other searchers, letting them know Ryan found Drew.

  “Glad everything worked out,” the policeman said. “I suggest you install an alarm on all your doors and gates to chime whenever anyone opens anything.”

  “We do have an alarm on all the doors, but I didn’t think about the gate,” Jamie said. She ushered the policemen to the front door and opened it.

  Andrew stood on the porch about to knock. “What’s going on? I heard you lost Drew. How could you let Drew run off?”

  “And who are you?” the older policeman asked. “Are you one of the witnesses?”

  “No, I’m the child’s father.” Andrew turned on an obsequious smile, extending his hand to shake. “Andrew Rush, and I’m very concerned for the welfare of my sons. They’re not being adequately supervised, as you can tell.”

  “Apparently, the boy was found at the canal,” the policeman said, stepping outside of the house.

  “At the canal, where he almost drowned a few days ago?” Andrew shrieked. “I must remove my son from this dangerous home immediately. There’s no supervision whatsoever because my ex-wife is busy going out with a baseball player.”

  “That’s not true,” Jamie said. “Drew has plenty of supervision.”

  “Then explain how he made his way to the canal in the middle of the night.” Andrew stabbed a finger at Jamie.

  “Are you two going to be okay?” the policeman said. “Because we have another call to go to.”

  “We’re good,” Jamie said, but Andrew turned to the policeman and barked, “I want to make a citizen’s arrest for gross negligence and child endangerment.”

  “This is out of our jurisdiction,” the older officer said as the younger one scurried to the squad car. “Bring it up in family court.”

  “Wait, hasn’t a crime been committed here? Letting a five-year-old run outside in the middle of the night.”

  The younger officer turned on his siren as he started the car, and the older one jumped into the passenger seat, hurrying off to a real crime.

  “Mom, there’s Ryan and Drew,” Ben said, scrambling off the porch. “I knew Ryan would find Drew. Ryan’s special just like Drew.”

  “What’s this? Some problem with Ryan?” Andrew’s eyes narrowed. He got into Jamie’s face and breathed down her neck accusingly.

  Jamie brushed him off and ran as fast as she could toward Ryan and Drew, but Andrew edged her and grabbed Drew, picking him up.

  “You’re coming home with me tonight,” he said.

  “You can’t take him. I have physical custody.” Jamie tried to pry Drew out of Andrew’s arms.

  “You’re a danger to my son,” Andrew said, holding Drew too tight.

  “You better let him go,” Jamie said. “He hates being squeezed like that. He’s going to have a meltdown.”

  Andrew ignored Jamie and charged down the sidewalk with Drew who let out an ear-piercing howl. He kicked and flailed, screaming. When Andrew tried to change his grip, Drew bashed his head into Andrew’s face.

  “Oh, you son of a—” Andrew cursed, holding his face as blood seeped between his fingers.

  “Give him to me,” Ryan said, walking at Andrew’s side. “He’s tired and needs to go to bed.”

  “He’s my son, not yours, you freak.” Andrew held onto his bloody nose.

  “Jamie has custody, and we need to calm Drew down and put him to bed,” Ryan said.

  “Not when you’re molesting him.” Andrew sneered and jutted his chin at Ryan. “I’m going to have you arrested for child molestation.”

  “And I’ll sue you for defamation so hard you’ll lose your job and all your savings.” Ryan stuck to Andrew’s side like glue. “Let Jamie have Drew right now.”

  Jamie could barely keep her head together. She wanted to scream, to cry, to yell, to punch, unlike Ryan who was like an immovable wall, calm, yet firm.

  “Dad, let Drew go back to his timeout clo
set to calm down,” Ben said. “He’s having a meltdown and he could keep you up all night.”

  “All night?” Andrew said. “Are you kidding? All he needs is a whipping and he’ll shut the hell up. You all are spoiling him.”

  He set Drew on the sidewalk and raised his hand to give him a swat.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Ryan warned, getting out his cell phone.

  Jamie swooped in and guided Drew to her side. He screamed and yelled, guttural cries, waving and flailing his hands. By now, all the remaining people who had been at the meeting were standing in a circle watching.

  “What are you all looking at?” Andrew shouted. “This is my kid, not yours, and I need to lay down the law.”

  Brock, Marcia’s dad, the three therapists, Frances, Marcia, and Ryan formed a quiet and unyielding wall of bodies between Andrew and Drew, allowing Jamie to herd Drew toward the house.

  They’d circled their wagons again, and Andrew had no choice but to storm off, shouting threats. “I’ll see you in court.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Before Jamie knew it, it was Friday night and her promised date night.

  “I’m not sure I should go out,” Jamie said, even as she stood in front of the mirror, fixing herself up. “Andrew might say I’m negligent and not paying enough attention to the boys.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Her mother stood at the bathroom door and put her hands on her hips. “You are definitely going out with Ryan tonight. No backing out.”

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay if Andrew shows up?” Jamie asked her mother as she fixed her unruly hair. Why wouldn’t it behave? It was always tilting one direction or another from the multiple cowlicks she had.

  “I can handle that scum bucket easily,” Mother jeered. “You saw how he ran off when Drew head-butted him.”

  Jamie stifled a giggle. “That was pretty funny, in retrospect. I wonder how Andrew knew Drew was missing.”