Catching Tatum

by Lucy H. Delaney

  He shook his head no, but I felt his arms tighten around me again. When the song was done, we held each other. I leaned up to look at him.

  “Not for forever, just for tonight,” I offered, meeting his gaze with an intensity hotter than the fire. He was defeated. He leaned down to kiss me. My stupid body and my stupid heart ... they were betraying me. This was not in the rules. My hands laced behind his neck and I pressed into his body. I think I fell in love with him right then, knowing full well his heart belonged to another. I knew it was all wrong. My game, my rules, and I couldn't follow them. His head dipped closer. I convinced myself in a second that I could make him forget his girl, who didn't want him anyway, and he would move on and see that I was the one for him. Who needed rules anyway? I could blame it on his broken heart and my desire to ease his pain, or the alcohol, or anything.

  But, no! I had the rules for this very reason. I forced myself to remember them: the first kiss came after the date; a random meeting at a bonfire didn't count. Our lips met. I should have stopped it. I forced Cole into my head. I told myself to remember what a mistake that was. How I gave him too much too fast, and how it hurt me. It took all my effort. Whether I wanted to or not, I had to stop the kiss, but I wanted it too much.

  I heard him groan low and deep in his throat. It reminded me of a cat's purr and it was enough to shake me loose of his spell on me. I pulled away and, in the same instant, he loosened his grip. Pursing his lips together he shook his head and looked at me apologetically.

  “I want to … but I love her.”

  We stared at each other.

  “I want to …but I have rules about kissing ... But ... you make me want to break them,” I answered truthfully, afraid the words would burn my lips if I held them in.

  “It won't be just a kiss,” he said. The thought electrified me.

  “It could be.”

  “No, you're not a 'just a kiss' kind of girl.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?” I asked, stepping back. He had me all wrong. I wasn't that kind of girl anymore.

  He took my hand and held it on his heart. His chest was firm; the beat was fast and strong. “You could make me forget her not just for tonight. I don't want to.” I couldn't take my eyes from his. There was pain and love and desire. He was torn like me. We were both in anguish of our own making.

  “I don't want to make you forget her. Remember her, treasure the memories you have with her … but maybe let's see where this goes. I felt something, too. I haven't been this attracted to anyone in years.”

  He chuckled. “You tell it like it is, don't you?”

  “It's a fault of mine. My filter is damaged; if I think it, I say it. But I'm serious. You're hurting and not in a hurry. Neither am I. I got hurt badly. I swore I'd never let anyone hurt me like that again. I made rules.”

  “What kind of rules?” he asked, obviously intrigued, and walked me back to the log.

  We spent the next several songs going over my rules.

  “How far?” he asked after a long stretch of staring into the fire.

  “What?”

  “How far have you gone?”

  “Since him? So far no one's gotten past second base. See, I don't want to go fast. I won't hurt you. I know how it feels.”

  “But I'll hurt you because I'm hers and she will come back to me.”

  I hated to ask it but I did. “What if she doesn't want you back? What if she stays with the new guy? What if they get married and have a family and live happily ever after, forever? What then?”

  “If she doesn't want me, then I'm wrong about everything. She does; she's just confused.”

  “I would make good company in the meantime.” I was totally selling myself to him.

  “I believe you,” he said and ran his thumb down my scar. “What happened?” I looked down, away, embarrassed that he pointed it out.

  “Accident when I was a kid. I tried to karate kick my brother and missed.” He stared at me hard, suspicious, looking for a different truth. I didn't know why, but I felt like I had to justify my answer. “Ask them.” I pointed to Theo—I couldn't find Thomas—“They're the ones I was fighting with.”

  “It's OK.”

  “But you don't believe me.”

  “I don't believe a lot of people.”

  “You can believe me.”

  I spent the rest of the night dancing with and for him and listening to him play songs. There was another guy with a guitar and they popped out a couple old classics together. Parker could sing too. It wasn't radio perfection, but he was good.

  Time flew faster than I expected, and it was midnight before I knew it, and I had to open the gym the next day. Like it or not, I had to get some sleep. I said goodbye to Parker, hoping against hope he would ask for my number, but it wasn't to be. He thanked me for my company and gave me a brotherly hug goodbye. It sucked, but I wasn't going to be that desperate or needy girl that chased the boy. I was a grown woman and I wasn't going to push anyone who didn't want to be with me to pursue me.

  I found Thomas first; he was lit up! It must have been the first time in months he was able to loosen up and not worry about orders or kids or anything.

  “I couldn’t drive out of a paper bag right now.” He laughed.

  “I can't drive,” I answered.

  Theo and Kennedy had planned to camp the whole time; neither of them was in a position to drive me back.

  “Didn't think this one through, did ya, sis?” Thomas asked, laughing at my angst.

  “Whatever! Where's Brett?”

  He was making moves on one of the single girls and wouldn't have been interested in leaving even if he had been fit to drive.

  “Looks like we're camping out, too,” Brett said, putting his arm around the cute blonde he introduced as Kelsie.

  “We can't! I have to be to work at six!” I said.

  “Who works at six on the weekend?” Thomas asked.

  “Better than four-thirty like the weekdays.”

  There was no way I could stay up there. Then a thought struck me—Parker! Parker said he didn't drink. Parker was sober. Then the next thought was that he was probably the designated driver for his group but asking him for a ride couldn't be worse than trying to figure out a plan with my inebriated brothers. It was worth a shot. I went to him.

  “I'm back,” I said, leaning over his shoulder, remembering how good he smelled, wondering how his lips would feel on mine again, hoping that there could be more to us than this night. Maybe everything happened for a reason and maybe tonight was all about Airman Parker and me having an excuse to get to know each other better.

  “Welcome back,” he answered, not missing one note on the song he was playing.

  “So ... what are your plans for the night? You heading out anytime soon?”

  “Nope, I was free this weekend so me and these guys,” he said, nodding to a couple of other airmen I had seen around base, “were planning on kicking it up here for the night.”

  “The whole night?” I asked.

  “The whole night.” He pointed to the bed of a truck. “My tent's in there, just haven't set it up yet.”

  “Ahhh, I see,” I said. There was hope. “Sooooo,” I said, cozying up next to him on the log, “I wouldn't ask unless I was desperate but I don't supposed there's any way I could talk you into taking me home tonight, is there?”

  He stopped playing suddenly and looked at me funny. “I already told you, I can't ... You're beautiful; I'm sure it would be mind-blowing ... but I can't. I've got a girl.”

  As soon as he answered I realized how he had taken it. I was flattered and disappointed all at the same time. I looked at the ground and smiled. “Wow, way to let a girl down but calm down, Turbo. I totally didn't even mean it like that! What kind of a girl do you think I am anyway?” I elbowed him playfully in mock offense but inside me I knew what kind of a girl he thought I was. I hated that I still gave that impression. I wasn't that girl anymore. I was strong, proud, and had rules
to keep me from being stupid—rules I was prepared to break for Parker just hours ago, but he didn't need to know that. “I've got a problem ... Here's the thing ... we didn't exactly think about the whole designated driver thing before we got here ... and I have to be at work early in the morning and ... I need a ride back into town; just a ride. That's all. I promise,” I said with one hand on my heart.

  “Oh.” He smiled. I could be wrong but it looked like there could have been a little bit of guilt in his eyes, which I had been trying to figure out the color of all night long. “Sure. You want to go now?”

  “Kind of,” I squinched my face apologetically. “Six comes early these days.”

  “Just these days ...” He smiled. “Let me grab my stuff.”

  In five minutes we had the plan all worked out: Brett would stay with Theo and Kennedy and hitch a ride back to his car at the field in the morning. Parker let Brett use his tent, and he schlepped Thomas and me back to the base. I would crash at my parents’ and head out in time to open the gym in the morning.

  The ride back was anything but quiet. Parker didn't have a problem making himself comfortable in my car. He fixed the seat and the mirrors and made fun of the little family stickers still on the back window from when I bought it and my “fruity smelling” air freshener. He switched the radio station, without even asking, to classic rock and turned it up loud until we got close to the base, then turned it down to a respectable level.

  “They're a lot further from me than I thought,” Parker said when we got to my parents’ house.

  “OK, don't take this the wrong way,” I said, “but, if you want, you can couch-it until I get up in the morning, and I can drive you back to your place when I leave.”

  “Ummmm … are your parents going to be OK with that?”

  “My mom will be ...” Thomas answered a little too loud. “My dad might be a different story.”

  “Shhhh, people are sleeping.” I said. “It's fine,” I told Parker. “I'll let them know you're here.”

  “All right then,” he agreed, and followed us into the house awkwardly.

  I showed him to the couch, told him I'd bring a pillow and blanket, and left him with Thomas, who was shouting in a whispered voice where the bathroom was and such. I'm sure it would have been quieter if he would have talked in a normal voice. I couldn't get too upset; I was bumbling around the house myself. I tried to tap quietly on my parents’ door. Mom answered groggily and I told her about the stranger on the couch. If my dad heard he didn't acknowledge it, but he wasn't snoring so there was a chance he heard me. Then, what I should have done was get Parker what he needed and leave him alone, but I didn't do that.

  I wanted him to fall asleep thinking of me. I grabbed one of my dad's shirts from the dryer when I went for the bedding. I stopped at the bathroom and changed out of my pants and hoodie and slid the shirt on over my tank. I told myself not to, but I couldn't help it. I justified it too: at home it was nothing for me to sleep in just a tank and panties ... this was being modest. I unfurled my dreads and checked myself in the mirror. I looked tempting and wondered, not for the first time, what a tattoo on my thigh would look like. I grabbed the boys' bedding, and, stupid as it was, rolled some of my dreads on Parker's pillowcase, hoping to leave my lavender scent behind.

  Parker looked me up and down when I returned, barefoot and barely dressed. I was glad my toenails were bright pink. I pretended like I didn't notice him noticing me. I wanted him to want me and not know I was doing it on purpose.

  I tossed Thomas his pillow, pillowcase, and blanket. He was already out of his pants and reclined in my dad's chair in his boxers. Justin was sitting on the couch, unlacing his boots when I came back in.

  “I'll be ready to leave about five thirty,” I whispered as I stuffed the pillow into the case that smelled like me. “If that's too early, Thomas or my brother Travis can probably take you later.”

  “Nah, it's fine,” he answered. He looked at me intently in the shadows of the light coming from the hall. I still couldn't tell what color his eyes were, except that they weren't brown like any of the eyes in my family.

  “So. ... I'm gonna sleep now,” Thomas slurred, smirking, “and leave you two alone.”

  CHAPTER 9

  WE STAYED THERE, frozen, staring, smiling, wanting, resisting for an eternity of shallow breaths.

  Then, I handed him his pillow and our hands touched. His were warm, almost clammy, and they lingered on mine while he looked at me.

  I grinned and whispered goodnight when it was obvious he wasn't going to make a move that I didn't want him to make anyway.

  “Good night, Haylee,” he whispered back, jarring me right out of the fantasy where I would have to turn him down when he finally tried for a goodnight kiss.

  “I'm Tatum.”

  He pursed his lips together. “I know that.”

  “Is that her name?”

  “Yeah.”

  I nodded, wishing he had simply said my name wrong instead of calling me by hers.

  “Thanks again for the ride,” I said, and left him to dream about her on a pillow that smelled like me.

  The next morning I dropped him off and sped to get to work. I left the radio station where he put it. AC/DC wasn't so bad to listen to, especially when I was trying not to think about the night before, the guy I just dropped off, the fact that he didn't ask for my number or even imply he hoped to see me again. I blasted it and was glad that the day was going to be crazy-busy for me. It kept me from agonizing over my stupidity. What kind of an idiot fell for a guy who openly admitted he was in love with another girl? And I came on to him! What did he think of me? He didn't think of me, I told myself; he thought of her. He called me by her name while he was looking straight at me. He was hopelessly in love.

  All I had to do was make it to work. As soon as my day started I wouldn't have any more time to think about him. I usually got there a little before six on the weekends and had the lights on and the gym ready to go, but that morning I was five minutes late and the third car in the lot. Derrick, the Patriots second baseman, and two other patrons were waiting.

  “It's about time!” Derrick hollered.

  “Shut up!” I answered, rushing past the three of them to unlock the door.

  “You better have a good excuse,” Luke said.

  “I do. I was out partying all night.”

  “Atta girl!” he said. “You gotta get that out of your system while you're young.”

  “I don't know ... I think I can party when I'm older, too.”

  “You think you can now, but wait twenty years. The motivation will be gone and your body will tell you otherwise ... trust me. You hung over?”

  “Nope ...” And I wasn't, and for that I was happy and sad; if I had a hangover it would have explained my quickness in coming on to Parker.

  Within minutes the gym was full and my focus was on work. There was little time to stop and think about the night before with Parker, but, even as busy as I was, he kept popping into my head and making me smile. Derrick mentioned it twice: “Somebody had a good night, late to open and grinning like that,” he said, flicking me in the butt with his sweaty towel. “Spill it.”

  “I'm not telling you anything, nosy! Get back to your sets before you cool down.”

  “Aha! There is someone! What's his name?” Derrick asked. Derrick was my age and I think he was interested, but never had the balls to ask me out so we never dated. Over the last year we had eased our way into an almost familial relationship but we sort of flirted, too. He was still interested in me enough to find out about a guy who caught my attention. Luke tapped in to tag team me.

  “I think she's hiding something,” he said to Derrick.

  “Yep, me too,” Derrick replied and finished with a whoop that echoed in the gym. “Baby girl's got a crush!”

  “I do not ... Leave me alone, slackers.”

  That time I threw my towel at him; it wafted and fell five feet too short and made both the gu
ys laugh. My secret was out, written all over my face. They all knew something was up. Sometimes I tried to forget, sometimes I relived the night, at least my favorite parts in Technicolor play backs. I even daydreamed of Parker randomly coming into the gym to see me. I had imaginary conversations with him in my head before realizing I was smiling like a love-sick teenager. I tried to snap out of it, but, then, there he was again, or she was.

  I wondered about his girl. Who was she and why did she break up with him? Was he super possessive and overprotective and she couldn't deal with it anymore? Was she tired of a long distance relationship? How could he love her so much? What was so special about her? I wanted to know more. I wanted to talk to him, to find out all about her. I wanted more of Airman J. Parker.

  The office at the gym had never been more organized, the machines more sanitized. I did everything I could to stay busy and keep him out of my mind but he wasn't going anywhere.

  “You gonna be there tonight?” Derrick asked, snapping me out of the most recent daydream I had been having about Parker; this one where he came in and was flirting while I tried to talk him into a membership, which would never happen because there was a perfectly good gym on base.

  “What?”

  “You really are stuck on a guy aren't you?”

  “Shut up! I'm not. I was ...” I looked at what I had been doing. I was holding a brochure in my hands, the one I imagined giving to Parker.

  “I was ... I was ...” Derrick mocked, flicking the pamphlet. “I said are you coming tonight? We have the double header against the Woodchucks?”

  “I work there, don't I? Yeah, I'll be there.”

  “You meet the new catcher yet?”

  “Nah ... how is he?”

  Our catcher, Ryan Stevens, had been called up to the triple As. It was great for him, but it kind of sucked for us. We were on a serious winning streak and messing with the lineup could ruin our groove, but when the big boys called, the players answered. No one wanted to stay in the minors; it was all about moving up in ranks, being seen, winning, and getting called to the bigs. Since our guy went up, we got the next in line.