Blake (Season One: The Ninth Inning #2)

by Lindsay Paige

  I really do laugh out loud, picturing him scrunching his face.

  Blake: Haha, I have to disagree with you on that one.

  Me: Look at that. I got a HAHA from Blakey. My job here is done.

  My cheeks are hurting thinking that I accomplished my goal.

  Blake: Do you want a slice of pizza as your prize?

  Me: Hell yes! I would like double cheese, thick crust, please. Don’t forget to sprinkle some parmesan cheese too.

  Blake: Thanks, now I’m hungry

  I laugh again.

  Me: I’m in Germantown tonight or I’d invite myself to pizza with you.

  Wait...damn it...I didn’t mean to say that. Why is there no delete button on texts? Damn you, iPhone.

  Blake: Too bad you’re not inviting yourself. There’s a great little place two miles from my house.

  Huh? Does he mean that? Good grief, Sofia stop acting like a horny teenager who’s talking to a boy for the first time. This dude’s already has had his tongue in your mouth.

  Me: Sorry, Blakey, the wine is getting to my head, but hey one more thing: do you know why Jimmy Pearsall ran the bases backwards in 1963?

  Blake: Because he hit his 100th home run.

  I groan, hoping that maybe he’d get it wrong.

  Me: Darn it, I thought I might have had you, Blakey! Good night!

  Blake: Nice try though. Night, Sofia.

  I sit my phone down and curl up with my pillow, thinking of Blake’s lips and hazel eyes.

  I’M STILL NOT sure what to make of Sofia’s texts, but I’m relieved she stuck to safe topics. Although, keeping the conversation going doesn’t exactly keep her a safe distance away. And that thought is big and powerful as I stand on the porch of my parents’ home. I feel like a jerk for taking a few extra days before coming to see my mom. There’s no telling what kind of shape she might be in and instead of coming over sooner, I took my time.

  I knock on the door, hoping she answers instead of Jack.

  “If it isn’t my little boy.”

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “In the kitchen, making me food like a woman is supposed to do. Are you going to come in or should we stand here on the porch?”

  I brush his shoulder as I walk past him and into the kitchen. Thankfully, he doesn’t follow me. “Hey, Mom. Need any help?”

  She glances at me with a smile, and I force one back. There’s a fading bruise on her face. “No, I’ve got it. Did you have a good trip?”

  I see an onion waiting to be cut, the knife abandoned next to it. I start chopping and answer, “Yeah, it was good.”

  “Anything fun happen?”

  “Depends on your definition of fun. How have things been here? I tried calling you, but he answered.”

  “Blake, please tell me you’re not off having random sex with women whose names you don’t know. You don’t want to have a string of kids across the country.” In this case, no news is bad news. If she’s avoiding the question, then it hasn’t been good.

  “That bad, huh?” I sigh, guilt surging through me. “Sorry, Mom. It’s my fault.”

  Her voice lowers to a whisper. “Blake, he’s a little tense with the Hall of Fame nominations coming up. Could you please not push him so much?” Good to know she agrees that it’s my fault. “For me. I know you want to protect me and I love you for that, but I can’t handle him and worry about you at the same time.”

  I keep my voice low, too. “Mom, you can’t handle him at all. Why won’t you let me help you? Your life is worth more than how he’s treating you. I can help and make sure he never finds you.”

  “He always finds us, Blake.” She shakes her head at what she thinks is a useless argument between us. “How many times did I try to leave when you were little? He always finds us. I can’t run. This is my life and I’m not going to burden you with it. You’re young and you should be out having fun with your baseball buddies, not worrying about me.”

  She’s right. He always either foiled her plans or caught up to us before we could get too far. There’s one big difference between then and today, though. “But we can actually do it now, Mom. I have the resources to make it happen. We didn’t have that before. You want to leave. Don’t be too scared to do it. I promise, I can get you outta here and he won’t find you.”

  Her eyes watch me for a moment and I can see the wheels turning in her head.

  “What fuck is all the whispering about?” Jack asks as he walks into the room.

  Mom lies easily. “I was telling Blake that I made an apple pie because it’s your favorite and not Blake’s chocolate cream pie.”

  “I pay the bills here. Blake doesn’t, and that means you don’t need to cater to your fucking son.” He glares as he steps closer to her. “I need another beer.” I clench my jaw as she rushes to the fridge, not five feet away from both of them, to grab a beer he could have gotten himself.

  I don’t know how much longer I can stay and watch this. “I need to get going. I’ll call you soon, Mom.”

  “I thought you were going to stay for dinner, Blake?” She frowns, upset that Jack’s more or less running me off so soon after I arrived. “You haven’t had dinner with me in a while.”

  “I know. How about I come pick you up one day this week and we’ll go out to eat at that restaurant downtown you like?”

  “You’re fucking ungrateful,” Jack growls. “Are you too fucking big and bad to have dinner with your parents? I’m surprised you and your ego could fit through the front door.”

  I stare at him, taking a few measured breaths to control my temper. “I didn’t think I would be welcomed, but if you want me to stay, then I will.” Surely, he’ll send me home.

  “Maybe if you were more respectful to your damn mother, you would already know she wants you to stay.” He chugs his beer and I open my mouth, but I see my mom subtly shake her head.

  He thinks I need to be respectful to her? A damn dog is more respectful to a woman than he is. “Do you want me to stay or not, Jack?” I doubt he’ll ask me to, but he has to answer.

  “Your mother wants you to stay, so sit your ass down at the table.”

  He sits at the head and I take my place to his right. There’s no point in trying to help Mom with anything else because I learned growing up he wouldn’t allow it. Mom wants me to play nice, so I will. She plates our food, places it in front of us, and fixes her own before taking a seat to Jack’s left. The silence is thick with tension, or at least it feels that way. I feel like I’m suffocating.

  Not a word is spoken. The tension mingles with the clinking of silverware and ice knocking into the sides of our glasses when we pick them up. The moments tick by until it’s finally over. Jack goes to his office, which we all know is nothing more than where he goes to drink and watch TV. I help Mom clean up the kitchen.

  “Blake, are you seeing anyone now?” she asks.

  “No. Things have been busy anyway,” I lie. There wouldn’t be time for a relationship if I wanted one.

  “Well, you won’t believe what happened to me this morning.” Her tone shifts, and she sounds upbeat. “Do you remember Judy O’Brien? Her son, Marty, was a couple years older than you.” I shake my head, having no clue who she’s talking about. “It doesn’t matter, but she invited me to have lunch with her and Vivian Gardner.” Her grin is wide. “I mean, I’ve never met Vivian Gardner.”

  “Gardner? That name sounds familiar.” Surely, Mom’s lunch isn’t connected to Sofia and her family somehow.

  “Her husband, Art, owns almost all of Memphis and he just hit the Forbes billionaire list. I’m super excited.”

  No fucking way. I swear to God, Sofia better not have any part in this. I push my rising anger to the side and smile at Mom. “Really? Wow. I’m sure you’ll have fun, Mom.”

  Her grin widens, and she tells me about how she may go shopping for something new to wear. I haven’t seen her excited or happy in a long time, and this lunch is making her both. Once we’ve finished, I gently hug her
and kiss her cheek, promising to see her soon.

  The second I get in my truck, I call Sofia. The anger is back in full force.

  “Hello?” she answers.

  “Did you have anything to do with the fact that your mom and Judy O’Brien, who my mom hasn’t spoken to in years, want to have lunch with her?” The more I think about it, the less it sounds like a happy coincidence.

  “Um...I’m not sure. I mean, Mom’s the President of the Women’s Society of Memphis. She knows a lot of people.” Her hesitation speaks for itself.

  “What the fuck does that have to do with my mom?” They don’t know each other, my mom said as much, and there’s no reason Judy would want to catch up and have Vivian there. “Did you have something to do with it or not, Sofia?” I snap.

  “Alright, alright, Mom knows Judy O’Brien and Judy knows your mom. When I asked Dad about Jack, he turned around and talked to Mom. She thought that Caroline could use some female friends. That’s all, Blake. They want to be her friend. I swear.”

  “You have no business sticking your nose into our lives. You need to stay out of it. They want to have lunch with my mom, fine, but don’t you fucking dare bring up my family again. Do I make myself clear?” I can’t believe her! Who does she think she is, thinking she can interfere with something she knows nothing about?

  “Blake, I’m trying to help your mother and you. Your father isn’t a good man.” As if I don’t know this. “My parents can help. They know people who can help. I’m trying to be a good friend.”

  “We don’t need your help!” I shout. “I don’t know why you can’t get it through your thick skull that we don’t need help from some billionaire or his family. You want to be a good friend, then stay the hell out of it.”

  Sofia yells right back. “So, you would rather see your mother on the eleven o'clock news after your father beats her to death? Or worse, you end up jail because you killed him, instead of taking help from people who care about you and want to be your friend! Is that what you want?”

  “You don’t think I’ve tried to help her?” I yell, pissed at how she obviously thinks I’m not doing anything to help my mother. It suddenly hits me what I’ve said. That might as well be an admission. I gather my fury and control my tone. “Sofia, I’m not going to tell you again. You don’t know what’s going on, and I’d appreciate it if you would just do as I asked. Can you do that or not?”

  “Talk to me. Please. My mother wants nothing more than to be your mother’s friend. I want nothing more than to be your friend. Please, Blakey, talk to me.”

  “You should have thought about that before you crossed the line. I’m not objecting to the lunch itself, but you—” I pause, shaking my head at her actions. “I’m pissed at you and I don’t see it changing anytime soon.”

  “You’re right, I did cross a line. You need to know that I did because I was helping you. I care about you, Blake, and I want to be there for you. Please know that.”

  How badly she wants it renders me silent. I can hear it in her voice, but overall, it doesn’t change things. “Your only saving grace is that my mom is excited about something for a change.”

  “My mother is a kindhearted person. She’s doing it out of kindness and she really wants to meet your mother and get to know her. That’s all. I swear it, Blakey,” she reassures me.

  “Okay, then. I gotta go.”

  “I was only trying to help. I wasn’t trying to hurt or upset you,” she rushes out before I can hang up.

  Resigned, I reply, “I know, Sofia. Bye.” I hang up without waiting for a reply.

  FOR THE PAST three days, I’ve used more concealer than I have in my whole life. I should have known not to push Blake. I’m as impatient as Harmony is at a purse sale. After I touch up my makeup, I click my mirror shut and wash my hands. Tanner is due in for another leg rub down. I pray he’s wearing shorts.

  My cell phone rings and I quickly answer.

  “Want some lunch?”

  “I’m not very hungry, Harmony. Plus, I can’t leave right now.”

  “I’ll bring it to you. I bet you want a delicious, gooey, cheesy pizza.” I smile at her description and slurring sound.

  “Sure. Okay. I’ll tell security you’re coming. I’ll be in my office.” I hang up and call the front office to let them know that Harmony will be here soon.

  As I’m finishing, Tanner comes in with his clothes on. I think he finally got the memo that clothes are mandatory in my office. I rub down his legs, listening to his constant moaning. It doesn’t take any imagination to know what he sounds like having sex. If you looked in the dictionary for screamer, Tanner’s picture is there.

  “All done.” I rush through his massage and hope he doesn’t have to come back tomorrow.

  “Hands of a God.” He stretches and hops off the table.

  I nod and almost push him out the door because I’m not in the mood to hear any praises from him or anyone really. I wash my hands again and there’s a knock on my side door. When I open it, Harmony is holding up a small pizza box.

  “I have a delivery for Miss Gardner,” she winks.

  “You’re weird. Come on in,” I laugh. Harmony walks in and takes a seat across my desk.

  Since there isn’t much room on my desk, the small pizza box sits easily in the middle. Harmony pulls out paper plates and a couple bottles of water from the plastic bag she carried in with her. I grab some paper towels and she hands me a plate.

  Harmony goes on to tell me about a new contract and development that Dad wants her to run with him. I’m proud of her and all she has accomplished working in the family business. She loves it as much as Dad does and I’m just glad it’s not me. I have no knack for business. Harmony asks if I’m going clubbing with her this weekend.

  “No, I’m staying home.”

  “Oh, so you can cry some more?” She closes the almost empty box of pizza.

  I open my mouth to say no when there’s a knock on the player’s side door. I look at my watch. I don’t have an appointment, but I yell for them to come in.

  Fuck. It’s the one person I don’t want to see.

  “How can I help you, Blake?” I ask.

  “Blake?” Harmony whips around, and I see Blake’s eyes widen. “You’re Blake Foster?”

  “Unfortunately,” he grumbles. “You’re her sister, I’m guessing?”

  “You can just call me Miss I’m-Going-To-Kick-Your-Ass, dickhead,” Harmony growls at him.

  “Harmony,” I seethe at her. “Shut up.”

  “No, I won’t.” She narrows her eyes at him and stands up to charge him. “He made you cry.”

  Oh good grief. I stand between her and him, facing my sister. “Thank you for lunch, but I’m sure you’re busy at the office.”

  “Not really.” She continues staring over my shoulder at Blake.

  “You know Dad doesn’t like it when you take long lunches,” I remind her, guiding her to the side door.

  “Just remember one thing, dickhead, if you make her cry again, I’ll make sure you never reproduce,” Harmony almost yells at him.

  “Harmony Rae, enough,” I hiss at her. “I’m at work and you’re acting as if this is part of Fight Club. I’ll see you at home.” I shove her out the door, quickly shutting it.

  I take a deep breath. I don’t want to face Blake, but this is my job. I turn and try to compose myself. “Sorry, she’s a little stressed,” I lie. “What do you need, Blake?”

  “You probably already know this, but I wanted to tell you that my mom really enjoyed herself at lunch with Judy and your mother.” He crosses his arms in a defensive pose.

  “Yes, Mom told me that Caroline is a wonderful person.” I smile at him. Mom raved about Blake’s mother. “I’m glad she had a good time. Mom said she might even help with the Children’s Hospital Benefit. That’ll be good for her because she’ll meet all kinds of people.” I realize that I’m rambling again and rub my palms in a nervous tension.

  Blake nods. “Yea
h, she mentioned that. I did come for a reason though. It’s my shoulder this time.”

  “Are you hurt?” I hadn’t heard about him being hurt.

  “Nothing a massage can’t fix,” he says deadpan.

  “Of course. Sure. Right. Um, just...take off your shirt and sit on the table.” I walk over to the sink and quickly wash and dry my hands. When I turn around, I do everything in my power not to let my mouth drop open at the stunning man on my table. Holy shit, he’s so hot. It seems like each time I see him, he gets hotter. I should have told him to keep it on.

  “How did you hurt yourself?” I rub a small amount of oil on his shoulder and begin to work away the tightness.

  “Hector distracted me during practice, and I went to throw a ball at him.” He shrugs his other shoulder as if I know what he means.

  “I don’t think Hector is good for your health.” I giggle at my lame joke. Every time he talks about Hector, it’s about him riling him up. “You might want to fire him as your friend.”

  “He was fired the moment he nicknamed me Grumpy, but he’s like a bad rash I can’t get rid of.” Blake keeps looking over my head and never into my eyes.

  “I think Grumpy is a perfect name for you. I see you still have that same scowl on your face.” I pause as he flicks his gaze at me for a beat. “Are you doing okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay.” He stops and looks very uncomfortable. “I made you cry, huh?”

  I stop rubbing his shoulder, but my hands seem to be glued to his hot skin and tight muscles. “If you must know, I cry easily, but I’m more upset with myself than at you not wanting to be my friend anymore.” I continue my task.

  Blake furrows his brows more and seems to be thinking hard about something. “You’re a good person, Sofia. You don’t need me to be your friend.”

  I’m not going to even dignify that with a comment. I try to focus on his shoulder, but since I have him in a vulnerable position, I ask the one question that has been on my mind for the past three days. “Why did you kiss me? Tell me the truth. Why? Were you just curious or did you think I would be an easy lay?”