“He’s back at home.” She wondered when he’d come back to Kilby. Would he have the heart for baseball after losing his brother? But he was under contract. He had to. Probably soon.
“Mike lives here.” Zack frowned, puzzled.
“He has another home, where he was born. A place called Chicago. A big city, much bigger than Kilby.”
None of that seemed to make sense to Zack. Just as her explanations about why they might not see Mike anymore made no sense. But he was young, and in a year or so he probably wouldn’t remember Mike.
She wished she could say the same.
In the wake of the broken engagement, she had to spend some time canceling the cake order, the flower order, the dress order. Sadie, back in Kilby to visit her mother again, came with her to You Bet I Do to return the fabric samples she’d borrowed.
“You know what I feel like?” Donna told her as they entered the frothy white interior of the wedding boutique. “Cinderella after the ball. Like I turned back into a pumpkin.”
“Cinderella didn’t turn into a pumpkin, silly. Her chariot did.”
“Well, my Kia isn’t big enough to be a pumpkin.”
Sadie slung an arm around her shoulders. “I suppose you have the right hair color to be a pumpkin.”
“You’re such a good friend.”
“I know, right?”
They shared a smile, the kind of smile only two friends who’ve seen each other through many disasters can appreciate. Donna handed the samples to Amy, the salesgirl, but Sadie stilled her hand. “Come to think of it, I might hang on to those.”
Donna whirled on her. “Sadie! Are you serious?”
Sadie nodded, one of her dazzling, wide grins stealing across her face. “I wasn’t sure if it was the best time to tell you.”
“Are you kidding?” Donna flung her arms around her friend, then pulled away and jumped up and down like a bunny on a pogo stick. “You’re getting married! You’re getting married! I’m so excited!” She careened into a lace-draped mannequin, which wobbled precariously. Amy rushed to grab it before it fell.
“Do you mind?” she said snippily. Donna and Sadie ignored her.
“I’m so glad you’re happy.” Sadie beamed. “I thought it might be hard, with . . .”
“No. Not a chance. I’m so happy I could just scream.”
“Please don’t,” said Amy. “We have customers.”
“And you might have another one right now if you play your cards right,” Donna pointed out. “Sadie’s getting married to a major league pitcher. She’s probably going to need a dress.”
Sadie confirmed this with a nod, but still Amy looked unconvinced. “You were engaged to a baseball player,” she reminded Donna. “Look how that turned out. Those samples might come right on back again.”
“Nice vote of confidence. Believe me, nothing is going to keep Caleb and Sadie from getting married. Those two are destiny.”
“Fine.” Amy sniffed. “Take the samples, but please don’t damage any more mannequins. You wouldn’t believe how much we pay for those.”
Sadie and Donna left the shop and strolled toward Sacred Grounds, the hippie new age coffee shop that had recently opened downtown. The mid-morning sun glowed lethargically behind a haze of overcast. Not so much as a whisper of a breeze stirred the jacarandas that lined the streets. Donna studiously avoided looking at the Colonel Kilby statue and the fort; too many painful memories.
“I have some legal advice for you,” Sadie said after they’d gone half a block.
“Am I in trouble? I barely touched that mannequin!”
Sadie laughed. “No, no, it’s about the custody fight over Zack. Your lawyer . . . well, she’s terrible. So bad that I’ve been wondering if the Wades are slipping her a little something to give you bad advice. She should have been at that emergency hearing.”
“She’s pro bono,” Donna said defensively. “I pay her what I can, but it’s not very much.”
“I get that. But this is your child we’re talking about. If it’s a question of money, don’t worry about that. I can help. I have that money from the Wades, and Caleb just signed an endorsement deal for a new avocado-flavored sports drink. Or maybe it’s pistachio. I don’t know, it’s green. Seriously, we talked it over and want to help.”
Donna’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Oh, Sadie.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Sadie said quickly. “Here’s the other thing. Did you know that Judge Quinn is in the Wades’ pocket? Mayor Trent gave me a heads-up on that. The Wades have some kind of hold over him. Whenever they want a decision to go their way, they try to get Judge Quinn assigned to the case. Your lawyer never mentioned that, did she? Let alone request a new judge?”
Donna shook her head numbly, looking back at all the times she’d blindly followed Karen Griswold’s instructions. “Oh my God. I bet Bonita must have asked the Wades to pull some strings for her. I mean, I’m sure she did. She’s related to them, and they hate me anyway. Why wouldn’t she pull strings? I would, if I had any strings to pull.”
Sadie gave her a one-armed hug. “Well, you do. You have me. And Caleb. We’re your strings, and we’re here to help. You need a new lawyer, sweetie, and that lawyer needs to file a petition for a new judge.”
Tears swelled over the tips of her eyelashes and trickled down her face. “I didn’t even tell you about Zack until this year.”
“And that was very silly of you. Maybe I could have helped earlier. I understand, Donna. You were afraid to say anything. Fear makes us do all sorts of things. Come on. Let’s get a drink.”
They walked into Sacred Grounds, where Sadie settled Donna at a table. “Iced mocha?” she asked Donna, who nodded, then busied herself blotting her tears with a recycled paper napkin.
When Sadie came back with her foamy, whipped cream–topped drink, Donna found she had no appetite for it.
“You know, I told Mike I’m only afraid of one thing, and that’s losing Zack. I came so close, Donna. When Harvey told me I couldn’t see him, the whole world just went black. Like I couldn’t see for fear.”
“I’m so sorry, Donna. I just can’t believe Harvey would do that.” Sadie stirred sugar into a cup of tea.
“I know, he didn’t used to be such a devious worm. He’s completely under Bonita’s spell. Sometimes I think Bonita can’t stand the fact that I exist, that Harvey used to be with me. It’s like she’s trying to erase me from the picture.”
“Erase Donna MacIntyre? No chance of that.”
“Sadie, I’m so afraid I’ll never see Mike again. What if he never comes back to Kilby? What if he quits baseball or stays in Chicago? He was in love with a girl there, someone who broke his heart. He says that’s why he’s not looking for love.”
Sadie pushed the mocha under Donna’s nose, so the smell of chocolate filtered into her awareness. “Well, all respect to Mike, and you know I love the guy, but he’s an idiot. That’s okay. When it comes to love, we all have our idiotic moments. Maybe he wasn’t looking for love, but it found him. I know the signs.”
Donna drew the paper off her straw, shaking her head sadly. “No. He doesn’t love me.”
“You love him.”
“Of course I love him. I’ve loved him since . . . oh cripes, I don’t know when. Probably from that first night at the Roadhouse, when you met Caleb. Or maybe Crush’s party. Or when he stood between me and Jared Wade. I don’t know.”
“Does he know how you feel?”
“No. I told you, he’s not interested in love. The whole engagement was his version of a good deed.”
Sadie stirred her mocha with a frown. “Are you so sure, Donna? Mike’s a good guy, but I don’t see him offering marriage to someone he didn’t have feelings for. Maybe he had feelings, but didn’t know it.”
Donna rolled her eyes. “Trust me, the feelings he did h
ave were completely obvious. Not that I was complaining about that part—”
Sadie threw up a hand to stop that line of conversation. “Mike’s like a brother. Really don’t need the details.”
A detail swam to the surface of Donna’s memory, of the time they’d broken in the football-shaped beanbag chair, after covering it with a sheet. Naked and spent, Mike had sprawled his long limbs every which way, while he held her across his chest like a child. “Finally found something football’s good for,” he’d declared with a lazy smile.
The memory of that moment brought it all back—the fun he’d brought her, the unfamiliar security of having a protector—along with a devastating punch of loss.
“Not everyone gets the fairy tale, Sadie.”
“Why not?”
“Okay, maybe I had my fairy tale, but I ruined it by running my stupid mouth. I tried to talk him into something he thought was wrong, and he got insulted and stormed off. Then he left town, and now his brother is dead, and I’m sure he’s completely wrecked, and he may never come back, and . . .”
She buried her face in her hands, the urge to cry overwhelming her. For a moment she simply sobbed. Whether it was for Mike, in sympathy with the grief he must be feeling, or over Mike, because he was lost to her, she couldn’t say. Sadie stroked her back, made soothing murmurs, and didn’t even mention the fact that Donna had knocked over her mocha.
When Donna finally opened her eyes and blinked away the remains of her tears, she saw their little table swimming with brown liquid dotted with white splotches of cream. The fabric samples from You Bet I Do were completely saturated.
“Oopsies.”
“Eh.” Sadie waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll set a trend with my mocha-colored wedding veil. Amy can take all the credit.”
When Donna got a call from Crush Taylor asking her to meet him at the stadium, she clocked out early from work. Whatever Crush wanted, it must have something to do with Mike, and that was worth missing a few hours of pay.
It would have been harder to walk into the familiar stadium, which was saturated with memories of Mike, if she hadn’t heard that he wasn’t due back until after his brother’s funeral. Even so, she had to force a smile when she spotted Trevor Stark and Dwight Conner at the other end of the corridor. Oddly enough, they both wore Disney princess costumes. Or something. She wasn’t completely sure because they practically ran out of sight.
“It’s for the kids at Kilby Community Hospital,” explained Crush when she’d settled herself onto a chair before his massive oak desk. “Cheers them up to see big baseball players making asses of themselves. Luckily, that’s second nature to some of these guys. Making asses of ourselves, that is.”
“I wish I could take a picture for Zack. My little boy,” she explained.
“I’m familiar. I have all your press clippings from the world’s shortest engagement.” He gave her a lazy wink.
“Sorry about that. I know it was supposed to help the Catfish with their image.”
He waved her off. “The list of things that are more important than the Catfish image is growing every day. You heard about Mike’s brother?”
“Yes. How is Mike?”
He gave her a sharp glance. Usually Crush exuded a dissolute air, as if he was constantly grappling with a hangover. Today his eyes didn’t look quite as bloodshot as normal. “So you’re not in touch with him?”
“No.”
“Do you have a problem with seeing him?”
“No. I mean, he might have a problem seeing me, but I won’t know until I see him. If I see him. Do you mind . . . why are you asking?”
“I’d like to hire you.”
Her mouth fell open. Of all the things she’d speculated about, none had included a job offer. “To do what?” She couldn’t even come up with a possibility. “I have two skills, scheduling root canals and babysitting.”
He shuddered. “Two things that sound like hell on earth to me.” He fingered the cap of his flask, but she noticed that he didn’t open it.
“Do some of the players have kids? Do you want me to babysit? Because I don’t really do child care anymore. I mean, I love it, but the lawyer told me I need something that has health insurance and . . .”
“I can put you on the staff plan. That’s not a worry. But you wouldn’t be babysitting, at least in the traditional sense. Though my players certainly have room for growth in their maturity level. Mike Solo being the rare exception.”
“I still don’t understand. You want me to babysit the players?”
“No, no. Angeline, our promotions girl, just gave her notice. Actually, she didn’t give notice. She just left. Ran off with a RiverCat pitcher, can you imagine? We all thought she was screwing Stark. Bieberman locked himself in the bathroom when he heard the news.”
“I still don’t . . .”
“We need a new promotions girl. I remembered how well you handled the crowd that day Mike carried you onto the field. Most people would have been flustered, but you made a joke. Answered Angeline’s questions just right. I remember thinking what a natural performer you are. Quick-witted and very appealing. Do you have any actors or performers in your family tree?”
“My mother’s a backup singer.”
“There you go. I think you inherited the performance gene. What do you think?”
“I think I’ve never done anything like that before and you could probably find a hundred girls who would do it better.”
“I don’t think so. Someone who knows Kilby, knows the Catfish, has a killer sense of humor, and will drive the Wades crazy the second they see her on the field? I don’t think so.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Oh. My. God.”
“Yah. The Machiavelli of baseball, that’s me.” He gave her an unrepentant grin. “Just so you know, I didn’t think of this idea. Your illustrious mayor did.”
“Mayor Trent?”
“The very one. Says she recommends you highly. Trustworthy, fierce, and funny. Her exact words.”
The thought of Crush Taylor and Mayor Trent discussing her gave her a strange sensation. Why would a lowly dental receptionist hold any interest for either of them? And since when did those two do anything other than battle with each other? Hmm. She reminded herself to ask Sadie about that, but turned her attention to Crush’s offer. “What does the promotions girl do, exactly?”
“You’ll work with our publicity team. Every game has some kind of gimmick going on, and your job will be to emcee it. For instance, tonight we’re doing the . . . what is it . . .” He shuffled through the randomly scattered papers on his desk. “Right. We’re doing an egg toss sponsored by McGee Poultry Farms. That ought to be a mess. I think they’ve requested a chicken dance contest too. You’ll work with Catfish Bob, the team mascot, who, by the way, no one ever sees out of costume. Lastly, you’ll have to wear embarrassingly short shorts and a T-shirt three sizes too small.”
At her appalled look, he grinned again. “I’m joking. You’ll have to wear Catfish gear, but beyond that it’s up to you. Relaxed and fun, that’s the goal. Funny is good. You’re a hometown girl, and you’re mildly famous thanks to your former fiancé, so I think you’ll be a draw.”
It sounded . . . amazing. And terrifying. “What if I’m no good? Can I try it out before I quit my other job?”
“Sure. We can do that. But I think you’re gonna be hooked. I think you’ve missed your calling, stuck in that dental office. I think as soon as you take the field and hear the cheers, see all those people watching you, your world is going to light up like you never imagined.” He gazed out of his window, which looked out on the baseball diamond, where a few players were hitting fungoes.
Wow. She knew the word “fungoes.” When had that happened?
Mike, that’s when.
“There might be one mor
e problem,” she said slowly. “If Mike Solo doesn’t want me around the stadium, I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking the job.”
“He’s fine with it.”
A jolt of electricity shot from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. “How do you know?”
“I asked him. Wouldn’t be right to offer a job to a player’s ex-fiancée without checking with him first.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he’ll meet you after recess. I’m not a matchmaker, okay? He had other things on his mind, but he didn’t demonstrate any strong opposition to the idea.”
Well, that didn’t make her feel any better. She chewed on the inside of her cheek. This was an incredible opportunity to try something different. Something that might actually benefit from her personality, instead of getting sabotaged by it. If Mike had a problem with it, then he’d just have to tell her. When he came back. To Kilby. To Catfish Stadium.
But not to her.
Chapter 22
FOR THE FIRST few days after Joey’s death, Mike could hardly bear anyone’s company but Jean-Luc’s. The poor man barely seemed to notice Mike was there. He’d gone behind a thick shell of grief, which left Mike to answer the door when red-eyed students came by with cards and stories of Joey’s kindness. Those students, and the need to be there for Jean-Luc, kept him from descending into the black hole that gaped at his feet.
As mourners gathered at the campus chapel for the university’s memorial service, everyone from students to staffmembers wanted to hug him and shake his hand. Many of them commented on the PSA. “He played it in class,” one student told him. “He was really, really proud of it.”
“Is that right?” Mike hadn’t realized that Joey felt that way. He should have made a PSA like that earlier, or maybe a public statement. Why hadn’t he? With a sharp shock, it came to him—Donna. Knowing Donna had changed him. And the PSA was essentially her idea. And then it had driven her away . . . or he’d driven himself away . . .
He shook himself back to the present moment, since the student was still talking. “He told everyone about his little brother the baseball player. He even gave us an assignment to research the effect of organized sports on the economy of a third world country. He said we’d get extra points if we picked baseball. Joking of course. He was the funniest professor I ever had.”
Caught by You Page 22
