Waiting for Her

by Jennifer Van Wyk

  “Or maybe she’s not sorry at all.”

  “You two are a mess,” he says with a smile.

  “Yeah, we really are.”

  “She’s quite something, huh?” Drew asks. After he got here, he admitted he remembered Bri from when I was first on the team as a player. I explained a little bit of our history, not divulging some of the private details I’ve recently learned. I was afraid he’d be a little judgmental about why she was given the article. It’s been one of my biggest fears about anyone knowing my past with her. It’s also something I’ve been feeling like I should bring up to the board, just so they can run interference in case someone makes a big deal about it. Truth is, though, there really is no one better qualified to do what she’s doing.

  “She definitely is.”

  He looks at me, head turned to the side. “Still love her, huh?”

  “I don’t think there will ever be a day I don’t love her,” I admit.

  “She’s still in love with you, too.”

  My head jerks up and I stare at him. “What makes you say that?”

  “I can see it.” He taps the side of his head. “I pay attention. And read people really well.”

  “Oh yeah? You’re all-knowing, huh?”

  “I am. Of course, it helps that Hazel told me you were still Bri’s dream guy tonight,” he flutters his eyelashes as he says it. I throw a bottle cap in his direction that he dodges easily.

  “She did not say that.”

  “Actually, she did. In those exact same words,” he chuckles. “That girl’s a trip. She’s gotta be a handful for her mom and dad.”

  I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, she is. She reminds me a little of Harper at that age. Has everyone around her wrapped around her finger, has no filter, cute enough that you forget the sassiness that comes out of her mouth.”

  Quiet surrounds us, only the sounds of crickets chirping and Rocky chewing on a rawhide bone are heard around us. A car door slamming shut.

  “Don’t let that bitterness continue to take over, Grady. I see it threatening at the surface. I know she hurt you, but is your pride really worth it? Or are you finally going to admit that you don’t just love her, you’re in love with her?”

  “I…” The lie that I’m not in love with her doesn’t even make it to my lips before…

  “Grady?” Kennedy’s cheerful voice rings out from the side of the house as she comes into view.

  Drew’s eyes widen and he presses his lips together to stop from laughing at my immediate panic.

  Kennedy is wearing a slinky bright blue dress short enough that if she bent over, I’m pretty sure Drew and I would get a good look at what she’s wearing underneath. By the size of the dress, it looks like it could fit Hazel, considering it dips low in the front and the back.

  Her makeup is heavy, much heavier than what she usually wears, and her heels are high.

  “Hey, Kennedy.”

  She struts over, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek, her breasts bulging as she shifts.

  “Hi, babe.”

  Babe?

  I glance at Drew who’s covering his face as best he can with his beer bottle. His eyes dance and he wiggles his fingers around them like he did earlier when talking about crazy eyes.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She glances over the yard and back to me again, causing a niggle of nervousness to form in my gut.

  “Thought I’d come see if I convinced you to change your mind about tomorrow night,” she coos, running a finger down my bicep.

  I look down and shift so she’s not touching me anymore.

  Clearing my throat, I take another drink of my beer and lean back in my chair, farther from her.

  “Uh, no. Sorry. Like I said, I already have plans.”

  She sticks out her bottom lip. “Boo. You’re no fun.”

  Drew stands up, setting his half-full bottle down on the table. “I’m uh, gonna head out,” he says, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. He walks around the table, grips my shoulder. “I’ll talk to you in the morning,” he says, before adding, “Good luck with, uh, everything.”

  Kennedy wiggles her fingers in Drew’s direction and settles into a chair beside me.

  “What’s going on? You got a date?” I ask her, hoping she says yes.

  Her eyebrows furrow and she gives me a strange look. “No, silly. Why would I have a date?”

  I want to say because it’s a Friday night. Or because you’re dressed like you’re going on a date—or to dance against a pole. But I keep my mouth shut.

  “I’m here to see you,” she flirts.

  Since when does she flirt? With me, I mean. Yeah, she did in the beginning, but once I explained we would only ever be just friends, she went back to treating me like normal. For the most part.

  Her recent behavior has me rethinking every encounter we’ve had over the past few years.

  “Kennedy…”

  She looks at me from under her lashes. “I heard what Drew said, Grady.”

  I swallow hard. Shit. I don’t like the way she’s looking at me, or the way she’s talking right now. “About?”

  “Being in love,” she whispers. She stands up slowly, steps between my legs and before I know what’s happening, she’s straddling my lap, her arms wrapped around my neck.

  “Kennedy… I think you—”

  “Shh.” She places a finger on my lips. “It’s okay. I’m in love with you, too. And just because she’s back around, it doesn’t mean anything. We can still finally be together, the way it was always meant to be.”

  I’m stunned silent, my mouth hanging open, and she takes it as her cue to press her lips to mine, her tongue immediately begging for entry.

  Bri

  There’s my answer. He’s with Kennedy. I wondered, though, having him kiss me in his office caused hopeful doubt to rise. But seeing her right now, straddling his lap, her lips pressed against his as her hands are wrapped around his neck… it’s obvious.

  I turn away from the window quickly.

  The window I was unfortunately staring out of, like a creepy weirdo.

  “I’m going to pack a bag,” I tell my mom.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I think I’d like to come home for the weekend. Since I got here, I’ve done nothing but work, and I need a break. The boys, are they going to be home? We can have them come home, right? Maybe do a little family weekend thing? I miss everyone. It’s been too long—and Andy, well, I’d like to see him. See what work you guys have been doing on the house. Maybe have dinner at Balance. I haven’t even seen inside of Dreamin’ Beans since you repainted. It’s been too long.”

  “You already said that,” Mom says.

  “Huh?”

  “You’re rambling and repeating yourself. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” My reply is too quick. Too sharp and high-pitched. She scrunches her nose up and looks at Hazel, whose look is mimicking our mother’s, right down to the nose and arms crossed over her chest. She’s so much like our mom. She even tries to sneak cups of coffee if she can.

  “Sharing is caring, you know.”

  “I need, um, a break. From here,” I end on a whisper. Mom nods her head and looks to the window. She can’t see anything, from where she’s standing, but she’s a smart woman. She can put two and two together.

  “You know you’re always welcome back home. You don’t even have to ask. But, don’t run. Not again. Figure it out and don’t jump to conclusions.”

  I don’t tell her it’s hardly considered jumping to conclusions when I saw the guy I’m in love with kissing another woman. I simply nod my head and walk to my bedroom to pack a small bag to bring with me.

  Hazel bounces into my room, throwing herself on my bed.

  “Why are you coming home?”

  I look at her over my shoulder, she’s sitting cross-legged, looking far older than her six years.

  “Because I miss you guys.”

  “It’s not because that girl
was kissing Grady?”

  I close my eyes. How the heck did she see?

  “I saw it before you turned around and pretended like you didn’t see it. He doesn’t like her, though. I know it.”

  “Hazel,” I sigh. “This is kind of grown up stuff.”

  She wrinkles her nose like she just smelled something funky. Like lies. “Nuh uh. I know what it is! You still love him. I heard you one day saying to Mommy that you were dreaming of him. He’s your dream guy.”

  I chuckle. She’s so sweet and innocent.

  “Plus, you turned around too fast and didn’t see he pushed her off his lap. I did, though. I saw it. He didn’t look happy. And she was mad, too.”

  I pause, a hanger dangling from my fingertips, the shirt slips off and lands in a heap on the floor at my feet. I whirl around and look at her.

  “What?”

  She shrugs and nods but doesn’t expand.

  Though, what can I expect? She’s six and has already been more intuitive than is normal for her age.

  I bolt out of my bedroom like a woman on a mission and then, as nonchalantly as possible, peek out the window. I notice there’s no one on the patio, which means either Hazel was right or they’re now inside, which makes me sick to think about.

  “He sent her away,” Mom says in a bored tone.

  I take a deep breath through my nose.

  “I changed my mind.”

  “About?” I ask.

  “You can’t come home this weekend. It really doesn’t work for us.”

  “Oh really? I’m not allowed to come home now?”

  “Nope. Because Andy’s right. Enough is enough. Either shit or get off the pot, Bri. Own up to your past mistakes, be honest with him about everything, let him make a decision about whether or not he wants to be with you based on all the facts. Quit pussy-footing around and go get the guy. If you want him, which we all know you do, then quit being a baby and start chasing him. This is your life, Bri. This isn’t a game, and I know you know you made a mistake.”

  I don’t even try to argue with her. Not when she’s so right.

  “Mom,” I murmur.

  “I know, sweetie. I know. It’s hard being an adult. And taking ownership for your flubs in life is even harder. But you need to move forward. You’ve been stuck in this rut for too long and honestly, Andy and I can’t take it any longer.”

  Eventually she and Hazel head for home, leaving me with enough to think about as I lay my head down on my pillow, I know I’m not going to sleep much, if any.

  The morning light burns through the blinds covering my windows. I blink, feeling like my eyes are full of sand. They burn as I eventually pry them open, feeling like I slept only a few minutes.

  I slowly get up out of bed and head to the kitchen. After impatiently waiting for the thirty seconds it takes for my coffee to brew in my Keurig, I settle in on the couch with my large mug and inhale the comforting scent.

  After my dad passed away and Mom started the coffee shop, the smell of coffee became somewhat of a security blanket for me. If the smell was surrounding me, it meant my mom was close by.

  I finish my first cup quickly and go back to the kitchen to make a second. My phone pings where I set it on the counter, and I reach for it, my heartbeat picking up when I see who it is.

  Grady: Tomorrow, 8 am, be here. Time to get shit sorted.

  How very alpha of him.

  Me: Not going to ask if that works for me?

  Grady: Nope

  Awesome.

  He’s obviously not in a great mood, and it’s not like he’s completely out of line. We do need to get everything sorted out. Last night, though, he seemed very reluctant to offer any sort of forgiveness, so the thought of going to his place to get yelled at isn’t too appealing.

  And then, because I’m an idiot and his pushiness annoyed me…

  Me: Will we be alone or will your girlfriend be joining us?

  Grady: Really? You’re going there?

  Me: Just want to know what to prepare for

  Grady: I’m glad to know you think I’d kiss you when I had a girlfriend

  Shit. He’s right. I’m still accusing him of the same thing I did all those years ago, with no basis to the accusation.

  Grady: I don’t have patience for this shit, Bri

  Me: I know. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it

  Grady: That’s the shittiest part. You did mean it

  Grady: I changed my mind about tomorrow. Get your ass over here

  Shiiiiiittttt.

  Grady: Now. I don’t give a shit if you’re still in your pajamas. I’ve seen you in far less so either I’m coming over there or you’re coming here

  I suppose now’s not the time to let him know his alpha behavior is actually turning me on, huh? Or I could just ignore him and see if he makes good on his word to come here and get me. Possibly throwing me over his shoulder, carrying me back to his place…

  Oh see? There I go, letting my imagination run away from me.

  Me: I’m on my way

  No response. Not even the three little bubbles popping up that would let me know he’s texting me back.

  Right.

  I chug down the rest of my coffee, knowing I’ll definitely need the caffeine to get me through this conversation, and eat a quick granola bar.

  I hustle into my room, throw on a pair of capri leggings, and grab a thin hoodie, tossing it on over the camisole I’m wearing. I make a quick stop in the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face, then find a hair tie and slide it on my wrist.

  Flip flops go on my feet, and I’m on my way over to his house.

  Since he knows I’m coming over, I let myself in through the low wooden gate. He’s standing on his patio, arms crossed over his chest, his happy dog sitting at his feet, tail wagging and thumping against the ground. At least one of them is happy to see me.

  Grady nods his head behind him and I follow him into his home.

  Taking a deep breath, I step over the threshold, Rocky on my heels.

  If I were here under other circumstances, I’d take my time, inspect every nook and cranny of his home. But, alas, he seems to be on a mission as he storms into the kitchen.

  He opens the fridge, pulls out two bottles of water and tosses one to me. He walks into his living room and gestures for me to take a seat on the couch, his large frame taking up the bulk of a large dark brown suede recliner.

  Rocky jumps up on the couch where there’s a blanket spread out, he curls up and sighs deeply like even he knows we’re in for a long talk.

  “My girlfriend, Bri? Really?” Grady wastes no time in reminding me of my incredibly immature text.

  “She was at the field yesterday, then over last night. On your lap. Kissing you,” my voice stays strong. Much stronger than I expected it to.

  He raises an eyebrow. “And?”

  So he’s not denying anything.

  I shrug again. This time looking away, reaching out a hand to scratch behind Rocky’s ear. So very grown up of me.

  “Bri.” Grady’s tone causes my head to jerk up, to return my focus on him.

  I shift, tucking my legs up so they’re resting against the side of the couch.

  I can do this. I can tell him everything. Right down to the ugly parts. No waiting, I launch right in.

  “One week after I broke up with you, I found out I was pregnant. The days leading up to it, I spent every night tossing and turning. I felt sick to my stomach, but figured it was because deep down I knew I had made a mistake, that the other half of my soul was missing.” He winces, but now that I’ve started, I have to keep going. “Andy was actually the one who questioned me. He noticed me throwing up and could tell it wasn’t from a flu bug. It’s kind of creepy how he can tell when a woman is pregnant before they realize it themselves,” I chuckle.

  He doesn’t return my laughter.

  “Anyway,” I murmur, “Uh he went to the store, bought a bunch of tests and brought them back home. Sat me down
and said no matter what the test said, he’d be there for me when I was finished. Then he hugged me tight. Kissed me on the cheek. Told me I was loved always. I cried. He laughed, handed me a bottle of water, and then shoved me into the bathroom and I peed on a stick. Then another and another. All three were positive. He asked me if I needed him to pee on one, too, because that’s what my mom made him do. He’s seriously such a dork,” I chuckle again and shake my head, feeling a little overwhelmed over the fact he’s one of the best things in my—in our—lives.

  I notice the hurt in Grady’s eyes, the way he’s pressing his lips together and the desire to go over, wrap my arms around him and hug him is so overwhelming I have to press myself deeper into the cushions.

  “Grady?”

  “That should have been me,” he says quietly, angrily. “I love Andy but it should have been me,” he repeats.

  My heart feels like it could crack in two. It pounds so hard I can hear the beat, feel it between my ears.

  “You’re right. It was selfish of me. I’m so sorry,” I tell him and hope he can hear the sincerity in my voice.

  “What else?”

  I drag my teeth over my bottom lip. “If I was depressed and sad before I found out, I spiraled out of control after. Everything I put into my mouth, what little that was, came right back up. I wasn’t sleeping. I cried more tears than I did when my dad died. I didn’t shower for four days and only did on the fifth day because my mom dragged me out of my bed and threw me under the running water, fully clothed.”

  “Why?”

  It’s a question no one has asked me, simple and to the point. Not even my mom asked me why I was so sad.

  “Because I knew I only had two options. And I didn’t like either. I could tell you I was pregnant, and we could get back together, but you’d always wonder if the only reason I was with you was because I didn’t want to parent alone. I knew I messed up. And I needed to come to terms with the fact I had to earn your trust back. Telling you I was pregnant was not going to be the deciding factor in earning that again.”