When I'm clean and dressed in my flannels, I slide into bed, without dinner, and turn on Friends. At least I'll laugh at Chandler and Joey's slapstick.
At about seven, Mom walks in with a piece of pie. "You didn't come down for dinner."
"I know."
"Why?"
"Not hungry."
She sits on the edge of my bed, blocking my view of the television. "I don't want you sitting up here all the time. It's not good for...Stop rolling your eyes at me, Rose. I don't want you alone this much."
"God. I'm not alone a lot. I was outside all day. I'm tired."
"It's not good for...for your...depression." She says depression like it's a bad word.
"I'm. Not. I'm tired."
While she's sitting on my bed, I tilt my head to look around her so I can see the TV.
My mom huffs and gets up, but says nothing as she walks out and slams my door.
Sometime during another Friends episode, I get a text from Ben.
BEN: Hey. How's John Boy Walton today?
This makes me laugh.
ME: John Boy? Do I look like a John Boy to you?
BEN: Not. At. All. I just don't know any other Waltons. Should I have said Laura Ingalls?
ME: Better. ;)
BEN: Seriously. How'd your first day back on the farm go?
ME: It went. Tiring.
BEN: I bet. Did you cook any more of your pets?
ME: OMG. You make us sound evil.
BEN: Kidding. But it does freak me out a little.
ME: LOL. Pansy.
Ben:
ME: Haha. What did you do today?
BEN: Went to the doctor. Check-up.
ME: And?
BEN: Eh. They need to send me for a CAT scan.
ME: Why? :(
Oh my God. I shouldn't have put the sad face. That's implying I like him.
BEN: Don't be sad. It's just routine.
ME: Good. Can you play ball yet?
BEN: No running, but Coach wants me back for practices.
ME: When?
BEN: Now. I'm thinking of going back this week. Getting bored.
I can't respond right away. I'm thinking of all my earlier reasons for not wanting to get involved. And it's happening sooner than January.
BEN: You still there?
I lay my phone down and pick it up, repeating this several times before I text him back.
ME: Sorry. I'm here. I think that's great you're going back.
BEN: Thanks. It means I'll be closer to you too.
ME: Good.
BEN: We still on for Saturday?
ME: Sure.
BEN: Cool. Do you know what's playing?
ME: The new schedule comes out on Thursday.
My phone rings mid-text and I don't get to send it. It's Ben.
"Hello?"
"I wanted to hear your voice, and my thumbs are getting tired."
"Hey." My cheeks feel hot at the sound of his voice.
"You mind I'm calling?"
"No," I lie. I may want to talk with him, but before I know it, I'll be dating him and worrying who else he's seeing.
"So...what're you doin'?"
"Talking to you."
"Yeah but before I called."
"Texting you," I joke.
"Funny. From where were you texting me? Your bedroom?"
"Yes, actually." I laugh.
"You weren't sleeping, were you?"
"No. Just lying in bed watching Friends."
"Friends. Yeah, I heard it's funny. Like How I Met Your Mother, right?"
"Funnier. You have Netflix? 'Cause you should watch it."
"Maybe I will. Maybe I can come over and watch it with you."
"Maybe. You are one of those sweet talkers, aren't you?"
"I am so not one of those guys, Rose. I swear. Yes, I'm flirting with you, but only 'cause I really do want to come over and be with you...to watch anything. Even Little House on the Prairie."
"I don't watch Little House on the Prairie."
"Ok. The Waltons."
"I don't watch The Waltons either." I clutch my stomach to stop the betraying butterflies.
"Rose?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I come over to watch whatever the hell it is you watch?"
My cheeks burn again, causing me to pause in my response.
"Should I take that as a no?"
"No, I don't mean no. Yes...I'd like that." My brain kicks itself for making my mouth say yes.
"Do I have to wait until Saturday? Can I come up sooner?"
"What about your team? Won't you be involved with them?"
"Maybe I'll wait 'til next week."
"You can do that? I thought your coach wanted you back."
"Didn't give him an answer yet. I'll just tell him I have to finish my therapy."
"You'd do that?"
"To be with you I would."
"Ben?"
"Yeah?"
"Why?"
"Why? Because I like being with you. You're...interesting."
"Interesting? I'm boring."
"What? You're not boring. I never met anyone who picked up shit for a living."
"Haha. I pick up poop for a college educa...tion..." I digress.
"I never met anyone who made a sick ham and cheese sandwich the way you do," he continues when I don't.
"Right." I chuckle, despite the recent revelation that since I'm not going back to college, I do indeed pick up shit for a living.
"Do I have to have a reason why, Rose?"
I don't respond.
"I like you. I met you, you intrigued me, and you still do. I want to get to know you. Is that okay?"
I squirm under the covers. "Yes."
"Good."
"But can we wait until Saturday?" I ask. "There's so much to do here...for my dad. And, well, would you mind?"
"No. Saturday's fine." His voice sounds deflated.
"I'm really sorry."
"No, don't be. Saturday's good. I'm looking forward to it."
"Me too."
"Well, listen, I'll let you go. Get some rest."
"Okay. Thanks."
"Bye, Rose."
"Bye, Ben."
Hanging up with him at that point seems wrong, premature, but I shut off Friends, turn off the lights, and place my phone on the nightstand, putting the conversation, and my hesitation, out of my mind.
The following morning, I wake at the call of the rooster and take my coffee to go. With my mug in hand, I head out to the barn and drink it with Cloud.
"You wanna ride?" my father asks as he enters the barn.
"What?" I ask, confused. "No. 'Course not," I whisper.
"Cloud misses you."
I look at Cloud, then to my dad. "I'm right here." I run my hand along Cloud's coat to prove my point.
"You know what I mean. It's been ages since you took him out."
"Yeah. Been kinda busy and all."
"You're not now."
Stilling my hand on Cloud, I ignore my father.
"There's no reason you can't ride, Rosebud. It's all in your head. That new leg o’ yours is perfectly fine for riding."
I can feel my father's stare, but I won't turn toward him. I concentrate on breathing in and breathing out, and returning to petting Cloud.
My father pats Cloud's side. "Cloud here'll getcha feelin' like yourself again."
I'd love to feel like myself again.
"Come on. We're takin' him out," my father insists.
"Not today, Daddy. Maybe tomorrow, 'kay?"
"No." He walks away, but I know he's coming back.
My stomach rumbles, knowing he went to get my saddle. When he comes back, I'm standing against the side of the stall, afraid to move. I loved riding Cloud. Before. What if my leg doesn't move the same? What if Cloud misreads my instructions? Will I fall? Will I get hurt even worse? I don't think I could live through another serious injury.
Dad comes back with the saddle and flips it
on to Cloud's back. “I know you like riding bareback, but I think we should start again with a saddle. Just for now, bud.”
"Not today. Not today," I repeat and walk out of the barn.
***
In my room, in a box on the floor of my closet, is the leg my parents paid for to get me dancing again. Aside from testing it out in the doctor's office when it first came in, I haven't put it on. The leg sits in the box, a high-tech promise to give me back my dignity.
I don't believe in promises.
Not anymore.
I don't trust them, nor do I make them.
My future on Broadway had been promising. We've seen how that turned out.
I finger the machine-like leg and decide to take it out of the box. Mom's at the grocer, Dad's doing his thing on the farm, Beth's out getting new accounts for Daddy, and Patti's at school. It’d be the perfect time to try it on and maybe dance.
No.
Not yet.
I put it back in the box and tuck it away in the closet.
Then I climb under the covers and take a nap.
When I wake up two hours later, I'm too late to feed the animals. I'm sure my father took over when I ran out, but after I pick up the poop, I lug some bales of hay over to the barn. The day is long, and I suspect each day from now on will just get longer.
20
BEN
My ass hurts.
My whole body hurts.
I thought the only pain I'd have after practicing with the team for three days would be my knee. No such luck. I may not be running bases, but I am playing the field and I am pitching and damn, am I out of shape.
I got here Wednesday morning, happy to be back on the mound. Coach is making me take it easy, but I'm itching to just play a whole game again. Enough is enough already.
Tonight the guys decide to go to the bar. I'm not one for drinking much, and I certainly don't spend much time in bars, but since I have nothing to study, and they agreed to my suggestion to go to Donny's, I tag along. I'd really like to see Holly.
***
"You're looking good out there," my first baseman says on our way to Donny's.
"Thanks, Jax. Didn't realize how out of shape I was. Shit."
"Eh. You'll be back in no time."
"Yeah."
"So, Donny's? You never come out with us then you go and recommend a bar? 'S'ere a girl there?"
"No." Just her best friend. "I mean, I do have a friend who works there, but it's not like that."
"Right." He smirks. "You know, we never do see you with a girl. You go the other way, man? I mean it's cool if you do, but..."
"I'm not. Gay."
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
"No. Not since high school. I date. Not frequently."
"Why not?"
"More into the game than anything."
"Think that knee's messed up your chances?"
"To get into the Majors? No. The doctor said I should be a hundred percent by spring."
"Good. I know it means a lot to you."
"Means everything. It's all I ever planned for."
When we get to Donny's, Tony, Chris, Carlos, and Matt are already sitting at a table.
"Yo, Jax, Falco," Matt calls.
"I'll be right there," I tell Jax, then grab a seat at the bar.
"Ben," Holly yells when she sees me. "Oh my God, I didn't know you were coming." She pours me a Coke and slides it in front of me.
"Maybe I was having a beer today."
She laughs. "So what're you doing here and why haven't you called me?" she asks in one breath.
"Been busy. I'm back in my apartment with the team."
"You're all healed?"
"Not completely. But I was released with restrictions."
"Cool. So you're here. Those your friends?" She points to the rowdy table, where Adam has now appeared.
"Yeah. That's some of us."
"So you really are here to have a beer." Holly winks.
"Maybe."
She starts filling a mug with something on tap and pushes it at me, saying, "It's on me."
"Thanks."
Holly takes care of an order the waitress gives her, then comes back. "Why you still sitting here, stud? What's on your mind?"
"Who do you think?" I take a drink of my beer while she grins.
"I love it."
"What?"
"You and Rose."
"Don't love it too much. I'm not sure she likes me."
Holly looks around, "Are you staying 'til closing?"
"Not sure."
"Why don't you? Hang with me while I close up. We can talk."
"Sure. Why not. Thanks, Holl." I take my beer and my Coke and sit with the guys.
"Looking good out there, Falco," Brian says as he sits.
"Thanks."
Drumming his fingers on the table, Adam says, "Jax, here, says you picked this place. That little bartender why?"
I drum my fingers back. "No." I mean, yes, Holly's why, but they'd never believe she's just a friend.
"So, Falco, how's the knee?" Matt asks, concerned.
"Not bad."
"Pain's gone?"
"For the most part."
"Shit, that's great. We need you, man. I mean Steve is good, but he's not you."
"True dat," Jax says.
"Hey, little lady," Brian says to the waitress, whose name I believe is Tabitha. "You my server tonight?" he asks, dipping his eyebrows up and down.
"Not if you talk to me that way. We reserve the right to refuse service. You may just find your ugly ass out on the street tonight."
"Ooh, Bri, she called your fat ass out," someone at the table says, while the rest of us bust out screaming in laughter.
I look at Jax. "Didn't she take your orders already?"
"Not Brian. He just sat down."
"Right." I forgot.
"Hey...Holly's friend, right?" the waitress says to me.
"Yeah. Tabitha, right?"
"Yup. Been a while since you've been here."
"Ah...so the bitch is the chick," Adam says, referring to why I suggested Donny's.
I ignore him, keeping my attention on Tabitha. "Yeah, took the semester off. But I'm back in January...for school. I’m back now for baseball."
"Cool. It'll be nice seeing your cute face in here again."
Tabitha walks away, and the whole table starts on me about her.
"I'm tellin' you. She's not the reason. I like it here. The bartender's my friend and that's all."
"Yeah right." No one believes me, but they drop it and our conversation throughout the night is generic.
Many burgers and beers later, the bar signals last call, and the guys decide to call it a night.
"You comin', Falco?" Jax asks.
"No. I'm gonna catch a ride with Holly."
"So it is the bartender," Jax jokes.
"It's not the bartender. I'll catch you later."
***
"So what's going on, Ben? What do you mean Rose may not like you? Did you tell her you like her? She might not realize it."
"She knows. I don't know. I'm getting mixed signals."
Holly moves to the sink to wash glasses, so I slide down the bar.
"She may not be ready for a...to date," I say. "Maybe I should back off for a while."
She raises her eyebrows at me, but continues washing. "Maybe. I feel bad I only texted her once this week. With school and work, it's been crazy, so I don't even know what she's thinking these days."
I just sit there thinking instead of responding.
"I can talk to her if you want," Holly suggests.
"No. We're not in high school."
"Eh...college kids need reinforcements too."
"What?"
"Nothing. I can be indirect about it if I talk to her."
"No. I'll deal with it. I'm gonna be busy now with ball, so...we'll see how tomorrow goes and I'll take it from there."
Holly moves on to drying the glasses. "You're
seeing her tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Made the date last week, but..."
"Then she likes you."
"Ya think?"
"Rose is sweet, but she's not a pushover. She does what she wants. She may not want to hurt feelings along the way, and she'll find the most compassionate way to let you down, but...she won't lead you on just to spare your feelings. That's not Rose."
"Well that's good...I think. But I'm not sure we're dealing with the same Rose you knew before her accident."
"Whaddya mean?"
"I didn't know her before, so I wouldn't know, but this Rose is lacking in self-esteem. People who lack confidence tend to do things that make others happy...not themselves. At least that's what I think."
"Yeah, I forgot. You're farther along in your psych degree than I am."
We laugh together then she moves on to turning over chairs. To the music that still plays on the jukebox, together we turn chairs onto tables, and then I watch her mop.
Tabitha comes out of the kitchen, wearing a dirty apron and yellow rubber gloves. "Hey, gorgeous, you're still here?"
"Looks that way."
"Leave him alone, Tab, he's a good kid."
"He don't look like no kid to me."
With a soundless chuckle, I grab my coat from the bar stool and put it on.
"You're leaving?" Holly asks.
"Yeah, I'll talk to you later. I need to think," I say before heading toward the door.
"You sure it's thinking you need, stud," Tabitha says. "'Cause if it's something else, well, I'd be happy to oblige."
I come to a dead stop.
"You interested?"
This is why I don't come to bars and this is why I don't drink. Because I do things impulsively.
"Falco," Holly exclaims. "Get your brain outta your dick. Tabitha, he's not gonna be one of your whores tonight."
Reaching Rose (Hunter Hill University Book 3) Page 11
