Under Contract (The GEG Series)

by Jacquelyn Ayres

  Asshole!

  “Get your hands off of me!” I snap and pull away.

  “It’s going to be okay, Charley. I’m ready to give you a second chance.” He smiles. Not a regular smile. Not a happy “glad to see you” smile. No, it’s an “I forgive you” smile.

  I stare at him blankly.

  I blink.

  Is he on something?

  He tilts his head to kiss me. I know that in the future, when I replay this moment in my mind, it will be completely in slow motion. His head will ricochet backward with bionic sound effects from the slap I delivered to his face. However, we are in real time, and Josh is holding his cheek with a look of anger in his eyes I’ve never seen before. He steps toward me.

  “You take one more step toward my daughter, you son of a bitch, and I’ll brain ya!” my father yells. We both turn our heads in his direction. “Happy” Jack O’Brien looks like a force to be reckoned with, and he’s got a Louisville Slugger as his sidekick.

  My daddy. My hero.

  God love him.

  “Sit down, old man!” Josh says flippantly. “What do you think you’re going to do with that bat?” He chuckles.

  “Same thing I’m gonna do with mine, asshole—just at a different angle,” Mitch says angrily from my right. We turn our heads toward him. He also has a bat in his hand.

  “Mitch,” my dad says calmly, then nods.

  “Mr. O’Brien.” He returns the gesture.

  My future recollection of this memory may or may not involve some tumbleweed rolling around at this very moment. It should also be mentioned that it’s high noon. I don’t know what they meant by that back in the day, but for me, the time is noon and I believe Josh is definitely high.

  “Okay, well, I think my wife and I can handle this conversation alone, since it pertains to us and neither of you.” Josh reaches for my hand.

  “Ex-wife!” Mitch snaps, yanking me back a smidge quicker.

  “I don’t know what she’s told you, man, but we are not divorced.”

  “It was finalized last month, Josh,” I say, but am distracted by Brogan making his way over to us.

  “As a lawyer, you should know that your signature and permission were not needed in the state of New Hampshire. You should also know that you have no rights to the house, car, or any custody of the kids. You chose to give everything up. We made sure it’s a permanent fix,” Mitch continues to inform him.

  “Dad?” Brogan asks from behind him. Josh turns. “What are you doing here?”

  “Buddy!” he says, sounding overexcited and most definitely unnatural.

  “What are you doing here?” Brogan asks again—so bravely.

  My other hero.

  “I’m home, buddy. I wanted to see you play today.”

  Oh—so awkward.

  “You don’t belong here,” Brogan says nervously.

  “Broge, go back to your team. Mom and I will handle this.” Mitch smiles curtly and nods. Brogan makes a beeline for Mitch, throwing his arms around his waist.

  “I didn’t think you would make it to any of my games.” He looks up at him.

  “I told you I would. I promised.” He taps the bill of his hat and hugs him.

  “That is my son!” Josh yells. “Buddy, aren’t you gonna give me a hug?” Josh holds his arms out. Brogan just stares at him, and Josh looks at me in disbelief. “You just let him steal my son from me?”

  “He didn’t steal me, Dad. You never wanted me.” Brogan’s chin quivers.

  “I’m your dad. I love you, Brogan. He doesn’t know you like I do.”

  Yep, that’s validation enough for me—he’s definitely high!

  “I don’t know him?” Mitch almost laughs.

  “No. You don’t!”

  “What position does he play?” Mitch asks.

  “Uh ...”

  “Third base.” Mitch answers for him. “Here’s an easy one. Who’s his favorite team?”

  “Red Sox.”

  “Now, who’s his favorite player?”

  “Ortiz.”

  “Wrong—Pedroia. What’s his favorite subject?”

  “Science.” Josh nods for emphasis.

  “History. What’s his favorite video game?”

  “Uh ...”

  “MLB 13: The Show. Who’s his favorite character in Harry Potter?”

  “Harry.”

  “Ron. What does he want to be when he grows up?”

  “An astronaut.” Josh rolls his eyes.

  “A robotics engineer. What’s Brooklynn’s favorite song?”

  “‘Twinkle—’”

  “‘Hot Potato, ’” Mitch cuts him off. “What’s Bennett’s favorite animal?”

  “Dogs.”

  “Horses!” Mitch yells. “Just because you signed a piece of paper that says you’re the father doesn’t mean you’re a dad, asshole!”

  I’d say something to break all this up, but I’m too busy giving this man babies in my mind. I can’t help it—my ovaries are bursting over here!

  “I think you should leave, Dad.” Brogan says. Josh stares at him, and I think I might see a flicker of remorse in his eyes. Oh—nope, false alarm.

  “You don’t deserve to be called that, either!” my dad pipes up. “What kind of man leaves his family without concerning himself with how they’ll keep a roof over their heads or food on the table? You should be ashamed of yourself! You won’t be pissing in their stew ever again!”

  “I think you should go now,” I say to Josh.

  “I’ll be in contact.” He sighs, finally defeated.

  “I won’t hold my breath,” I say as Mitch tightens his arm around my waist. Josh shakes his head and walks off the field.

  “Hey, Josh!” Mitch calls out. Josh turns. “I owe you a big thanks.”

  “For?”

  “You’re the reason I now have everything I hold dear in life.” Mitch looks down at me, then Brogan, as he says this. He gives us each an extra squeeze.

  Josh stares at us, seemingly taking it all in. I have a feeling that in all the scenarios he came up with, this one wasn’t even a thought. No, of course he thought I was just sitting around, waiting for him to give me “another chance.” I’m so grateful for my ability to see what a complete asshole he is; otherwise, I would be feeling bad for him right now. Josh shakes his head and walks away. It’s odd not seeing Josh fly into action. He’s never speechless.

  “You guys okay? Brogan?” Mitch looks down at him.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. That was weird,” he says, still watching his father’s back. “He never wanted to come to a game before. Do you think he’s changed, Mom?” He looks up at me.

  Oh, dear ...

  “Honestly, Broge, I don’t know. I don’t know if he’s changed, if he’s trying to change, or if this had nothing to do with that at all. Do you understand what I mean?” This is so overwhelmingly awkward. I want to be as straightforward as I can with him, but by the same token, he’s only nine. Sometimes it’s easy to forget his age because he’s such a little old soul.

  “Brogan,” Mitch says, kneeling down, “this stuff is confusing for all of us. The only thing your mom and I can tell you is to listen to your gut. We don’t know why your father showed up here out of the blue. I think we all need to sit back and see what happens. See what he does next. Mom and I won’t keep him from you if he wants to visit, but if you don’t feel right about it, we won’t make you do it. You need to do whatever you feel comfortable with at the pace you feel comfortable. Do you understand?” He places his hands on Brogan’s shoulders. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do because you’re worried about your dad’s feelings. You need to worry about yourself first. Your mom and I will always put you first. You should, too. Okay?”

  “Okay. I don’t think I want to spend time with him yet, not that he’d want to.” He shrugs.

  “Okay.” Mitch nods and pats Brogan’s shoulder. “Now, let’s shake this off and get to your team. The game you’re going to win for me is
about to get started.” He nods over to the team.

  “Oh, yeah!” Brogan smiles and runs off. Mitch stands up. Just as he turns to me, he’s almost knocked over by Brogan’s tackle hug. “I’m glad you’re here, Mitch. I love you.” He hugs him tight. I choke on my slight gasp.

  Mitch hugs him back. “I love you too, Brogan, and I’m so proud of you.” He pulls his cap off and plants a kiss atop my son’s head. Brogan looks up at him, squinting from the sun, with the biggest smile. “Now, go! I want to yell at some umpires!” Mitch chuckles as Brogan runs off.

  “Mitch, you make your mother proud,” Dad says to him, holding out his hand.

  “Mr. O’Brien,” he says as they shake hands, “Thank you, sir.” Mitch seems a little verklempt by Dad’s words.

  “Call me Dad, Mitch. It would be an honor.” Dad’s other hand covers Mitch’s. Dad has only allowed one son-in-law to call him “Dad”—Colleen’s husband Zach. And that didn’t even happen until after they were married for five years.

  Colleen had ovarian cancer and Zach was amazing throughout it all. He was her rock. We all loved Zach already, but not one of us had much faith in him to handle what Colleen was going through. He proved us all wrong without ever knowing we doubted him. That’s the amazing part ... for us, at least.

  Rambling aside, Dad loves his girls. As he sees it, no one will ever love and appreciate us the way he does. For him to tell Mitch to call him “Dad” after only a few months—wow. I’m in shock and very proud of Mitch and the man he is.

  I haven’t told him.

  I need to tell him now, more than ever, that I love him. My heart is exploding with it. I can’t believe how he just talked to Brogan. I know he’s going to be a wonderful father, because he’s already becoming that to the kids. They’re all crazy about him. He makes them feel good about themselves. He reminds them that they’re important and appreciated. Amazing, with the exception of three weeks (yes, Charley, beat the dead horse again, why don’t you?), he’s managed to give my kids more in this short amount of time than their father has their entire life.

  And ...

  He knows just what they need. He knows what they need to hear, whether good or bad. He knows they need to tell him stuff and have his full attention. He knows they need him to feel excitement over the things they’re excited about. Feel disappointment over the things that disappoint them. He knows they need to know he remembers stuff about them and thinks about them. He knows because he was that kid with a father like Josh (to a degree), and he needed those things, too.

  I told Dad about Mitch’s father one day when he asked about his family. I told Mitch that Zach was the only one my Dad’s ever respected enough (by that, I mean above and beyond ridiculous standards) to let him call him “Dad.” This is so huge for both of them. I watch them, hands still grasped, talking to each other, mutual respect just beaming out of their eyes. It’s weird, but all just seems right with the world.

  “When are we going fishing, Dad?” Mitch wastes no time trying out his new privilege as they let go of each other’s hands and start walking. Mitch looks back at me and extends his hand. I grab it and jog a little to catch up. He leans down and sweeps my lips sweetly.

  “I don’t know.” Dad shrugs. “When do you want to go, baby doll?” He looks over at me.

  “Daddy, why don’t you and Mitch go without me? Maybe take Brogan and have some guy time?” I ask. They both agree and, as we head over to greet Gram, Maggie, and the rest of my family, make plans for the following Saturday.

  “Mom, I’d like you to meet Mitch. Mitch, this is my mom, Shannon.”

  “Mrs. O’Brien, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Mitch reaches for her hand when she stands up.

  “I’m a hugger, Mitch,” Mom says as she opens her arms wide. “Come on in.”

  “Be careful, dude ... that’s how my dad ended up with five girls,” CiCi chimes in.

  “I don’t think it was just the hugs, Ceese.” Mitch smiles and goes in for one of Mom’s specialty “I’m never gonna let you go” hugs. “I see your girls got their looks from you, Mrs. O’Brien,” he adds.

  “You don’t think I’m cute, Mitch?” Dad asks. “I’m hurt ... just hurt.” He shakes his head.

  “And their humor from you, Dad.”

  They both chuckle.

  “How come he’s Dad and I’m Mrs. O’Brien?” Mom pushes away and holds him at arm’s length.

  “Mrs. Dad?” he asks. She smacks his chest. “Mom? I can call you ‘Mom’?” He crooks his head a little.

  “Yes. That is, of course, if you want to.”

  “I would love to. It’s been a long time since I had somebody to call ‘Mom,’” Mitch says thoughtfully.

  I pat his back softly. “C’mon, baby, let’s sit down now. The game is about to start.”

  “Yeah, before I start to cry, goddamn it,” Mom says, all teary-eyed from Mitch’s statement. She knows he lost his mom at a young age. Just as she releases Mitch to sit down, she gets a bad spasm and loses her balance. Mitch grabs ahold of her quickly. “I’m okay, goddamn it!” she snaps. Mitch ignores her and helps her into her seat. “Stop fussing. I’m fine—just lost my balance. Stop looking at me, goddamn it!” she snaps at all of us now. You know Shannon O’Brien is not feeling up to snuff when “goddamn it” starts flying out of her mouth like this. We pull our collective stares away and find our spots on the bleachers. “And don’t none of ya talk behind my back, goddamn it,” she throws in for good measure. We all sit in silence.

  HAMPSTEAD 15 VS. SALEM 5

  “You guys needs to be a little quicker on your feet, Broge. That was some skin-of-your-teeth action there,” Mitch teases.

  “Dude, are you kidding me? We slaaauuuughtered them!” Brogan brags as he jumps into the backseat.

  “All right ... get your seat belt on there, slugger!” Mitch chuckles. He closes the door after him and turns to Gram. “So, we’ll be by tomorrow with the kids around four, okay?” he signs to her. She nods and opens her arms for him.

  “What can I bring?” I ask Maggie.

  “Just this man with a smile on his face.” She nods to Mitch.

  “Will do.” I kiss his cheek when he stands up.

  “I’ve got a few ideas about how you can do that.” He winks at me. I turn several shades of red, as we’re still standing in front of Maggie and Gram.

  “On that note, ahem, we’ll be leaving now,” Maggie says, then giggles. I turn redder and Mitch smiles, putting his arm around me and hugging me sideways.

  “Bye, guys.” I wave, then swing to slap Mitch. He flinches and mouths “ow” while he rubs the area on his chest I just whacked.

  “We’ll see you at the house, baby doll!” Dad yells from behind us.

  “Okay!” I yell back. “C’mon, let’s get the kids home.”

  “Does it always take you guys thirty minutes to leave these games?”

  “Yes.” I groan and roll my eyes. “The stupidest part is we end up at my house anyway. It’s goddamn retarded,” I complain as I open my door. Mitch heads around to the driver’s side.

  “I have to agree with you there, babe,” he says as he climbs in. “So ... your mom?” he asks as he starts up the SUV.

  “Same as yours.”

  “I thought so, but I wasn’t sure.” He looks over. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was going to. I just hadn’t gotten around to it. When you told me about your mom, it didn’t feel like the right time to jump in and make that announcement. She was in remission, but it seems like it’s back.” I glance at my parents as we drive away, giving them a final wave.

  “My mom used to get pissy, too. Who can blame them? MS sucks. You sure they’ll be all right to watch the kids while we’re out tonight?”

  “Yeah. It’ll be fine. So, do you plan on telling CiCi that Kyle’s going to be there?”

  “Uh ... no.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “He’s a good guy.” He grabs my hand.

 
“That only means he’s going to have to work harder, because she won’t believe he really wants to be with her.”

  “Why?”

  “My sister only dates douchebags,” I say, with a lowered voice so the kids don’t hear. “A guy she went out with in college really fucked her up ... mentally. Or emotionally. Whatever’s tied in with your self-esteem.”

  “Both. But she seems so confident.”

  “Yeah ... she’s a great actress. Truth is, she’s very awkward around good guys, especially if she likes them.”

  “Baby ... CiCi is awkward around everybody.” He laughs. I snort. He’s right.

  “I can’t believe you invited everybody,” Mitch says for the millionth time as we pull up to Mick & Marley’s Pub.

  “I’m not going through this again, Mitch!” I snap as I open my door.

  “Hey! C’mere.” He pulls me toward him.

  “What?”

  “Stop. I don’t want to argue.” He caresses my left cheek. Slowly, he leans in, nudging my nose before his lips entice mine to part for him. Just as I give in to his advances, the girls pound on the hood of his Benz, making us both jump. “What the fuck?” Mitch yells at them.

  “Let’s get our drink on, bitch!” CiCi bellows.

  “Kyle really doesn’t know what the fuck he’s getting into.”

  “Maybe CiCi won’t go for Kyle anyway.” I shrug. We both let out a big exhale to prepare ourselves, then climb out of the car.

  “You know we’re totally gonna hump your girl on the floor when the band starts, right?” Julie asks him as he puts a protective arm around my shoulders.

  “I’m looking forward to watching that.” He bites back his smile.

  “We’re gonna give it to her, Mitch—like really, really give it to her.” She widens her eyes.

  “Whatever you guys do, Julie, is no competition for what I can do, so I’d stand down if I were you,” he says, trying to be serious.

  “Nobody can pound her ass like we can, Mitch.” She opens the door to the pub.