Swing
Page 16
“He’s great,” I blush.
“Don’t say that,” Ford says, stepping to me and rolling his eyes. “You’ll make his ego even bigger. I’m Ford.” We hug. Naturally.
“Tell us about you,” Sienna says. “Forego the normal introduction stuff. Tell us what you enjoy. What you love.”
“She loves my cock,” Lincoln interjects.
“Oh my God,” Sienna says, her hands covering her ears.
“That’s great, Linc! I’m so glad the surgeons could create one from your pussy,” Ford jokes.
“Fuck you guys,” Lincoln laughs.
His fingers dip into my skin. I’m not sure if it’s to remind me that even though he’s conversing with his family, his mind is on me, but that’s what it does. My heart fills with warmth and as I try to fight this feeling, of maybe falling in love, the sensation takes over.
“Let’s go say hi to Mom and Dad,” Lincoln says.
He guides me to the porch, his brothers and sister bantering back and forth in a way I’ve never seen before. The love that fills these siblings is so apparent, so dynamic. I could watch their facial expressions and listen to their stories for days.
“There’s my baby boy!” The woman has her arms out for Lincoln before he gets there. She’s dressed in beige slacks and a purple top with a long gold necklace that catches the sunlight. Her hair is perfectly coiffed. She’s beautiful. “I’ve missed you. I’m so glad to have you home.”
“Missed you too.” Lincoln kisses her cheek and smiles at her more warmly than I’ve ever seen him look at anyone. The love between them tugs at my heart. He turns on his heel and extends a hand to his father. He takes it, pulling him in to a quick, more formal embrace. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hi, Son. Good to see you. How’s that arm feeling?”
“Pretty good. A little sore, but therapy keeps it that way.”
“You’re gonna be fine, Lincoln. You’re gonna be fine.”
Lincoln nods stiffly before turning towards me. “Mom, Dad—I want to introduce you to Danielle Ashley. Dani, these are my parents.”
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Landry,” I say, hoping I come across way more cool than I feel. I’ve met distinguished people a hundred times in my life. Why the nerves are kicking my ass now is beyond me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh, sweet girl,” Mrs. Landry says softly, her hand patting my back as she leans in. “It’s Vivian. Mrs. Landry was my mother-in-law.” She sends me a quick wink before turning to her husband.
“It’s nice to meet you,” her husband says, shaking my hand. He gives me a kind smile, but I can tell he’s distracted. “Lincoln, want to take a walk with me?”
I grab on to his bicep as he looks warily at me. “Go on. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” he asks, his brows pulled together.
“I’m sure. I’m a big girl.”
Vivian places a hand on my shoulder. “Go on with your father,” she tells her son. “I’ll take Danielle inside and we’ll get her some food. You hungry, dear?” she asks me.
“A little.” I’m not, but I want Lincoln to go. He needs to, I think. “I’ll be inside when you get back.
He kisses my cheek, much to his mother’s amusement, and takes off down the stairs with his father.
“Do you like soup?” she asks.
I almost laugh. “Soup is great.”
Lincoln
THE WIND IS COOL AND steady as we step off the porch and away from the house. I let my father lead me. We amble down the driveway for a bit before he takes a detour off the asphalt and towards a little bench near the tree line.
My stomach knots and twists as I try to read his body language. He’s said nothing, indicated nothing, and it has me wanting to just ask him outright what he has to say. Because there’s something. There always is.
Looking towards the house as I take a seat next to my father, I wonder what Dani’s doing. If she’s okay. If she’s nervous or anxious. This kind of thing is new to her, and I have no clue how she’s feeling, and that adds majorly to the chaos inside me.
I want to be with her. My hand around her waist. My ears picking up her giggle, making sure she’s happy and comfortable.
“Lincoln?” Dad’s voice pulls me back to the cold, iron seat. His eyes are on me, but the fire I expected in them isn’t there. I breathe a sigh of relief.
He’s always treated me like the youngest boy in the family. True, I am, but I’m capable. I’ve never needed him, not like Barrett and Ford have. I’ve never asked him for a dime, for a job, or for anything more than a piece of advice and that was only when there was not one other person in the world that knew what I needed to know. Yet, he always seems like I’m hanging by a thread or on the cusp of destroying everything. Sure, I might have wrecked a couple of cars and got tossed from a game . . . or two. But I’m not whatever he thinks I am.
“How are you doing, Son?”
My head bobbles around. “Good. Fine. Everything is chugging along.”
“Therapy going well?”
“Sure.” I toe a rock with my sneaker. “I meet with the management when I get back about the assessment I did yesterday.”
He nods, taking in more than my words. He already knew this, but what he didn’t know is how I feel about it. I’m careful with him. I project what I want him to take away. The way he’s looking at me now has me nearly squirming. He’s putting together every cue I’m emitting.
“I talked to your agent about that briefly yesterday. What’s your plan, Lincoln?”
“For what?”
“For your career.” He blows out a breath, fixing his gaze on something across the lawn. “I’m assuming you want to re-sign in Tennessee.”
“Definitely,” I say without hesitation. “I love it there. They love me there. I’d love to be a franchise player for them.”
“Have you given any thought to being traded?”
The knot winds tighter. “Yeah.”
“And?”
“And I’ll have to go,” I nearly bark. When I see his eyes narrow, I relent. “I’m just worried, Dad. I’ve had this over my head for weeks now. I just need an answer so I can get comfortable. Does that make sense?”
His hand clamps on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It does. It’s hard to not know what the future holds. It causes a lot of stress.” His hand falls back to his lap. “That’s the hardest part of elections. You gear up for these things for months, even years sometimes, and have to wait it out. It’s not good for a man’s sanity,” he chuckles.
“How did you handle it?”
“Well . . .” He tosses around the words in his head before speaking. “To tell you the truth, it’s why I stopped campaigning. It’s why I took Landry Holdings to another level. The nerves couldn’t handle it anymore. And neither could your mama.”
“Mom can handle anything,” I laugh.
He shrugs, a smile still on his face. “She’s a tough one. She’s handled this life with the dignity and class of a saint, especially considering who she’s married to,” he winks. “But after my last campaign, we had a sit down. She was really over it. She never once asked me not to run again. She wouldn’t do that. She loves me too much, understands this is in my blood. But she stood beside me and supported me for years, Linc. There had to come a time when I decided to do what was right by both of us.”
This is news to me. I always thought my mom loved the publicity as much as my father. And I also always thought my dad did whatever he wanted. How weird.
“Sounds like you made the right choice then,” I say. “But why did you push Barrett into politics?”
My father takes a deep breath. “From the moment you all were born, I tried to find your strengths. Then push you into areas I thought you might like and things I thought you might excel doing. Barrett is a natural politician. Did I push him too much there? Did I hang too many of my own aspirations on his shoulders? Maybe.”
“I think you did. You know I think that.”
“I’m definitely the best looking.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re wrong. I am,” he deadpans, making me laugh. “You can do anything. You can do everything you want to do with such ease, it’s crazy.”
I still. I have never heard him talk like this before and I’m not sure whether he means it or if he’s going to start laughing.
“You are one hell of a baseball player, Lincoln. Watching you on the field, reading your name in the paper gives me so much pride . . . You’ll never understand it until you have a son of your own.”
“I just hope I haven’t fucked it up,” I say through the tightness in my chest.
“Here’s the thing,” he says, his hands on his knees as he watches a car come towards us on the driveway. “Regardless of what happens in your career, you’re going to be fine. There are seasons of our lives. Look at me. I was a businessman. Then a politician. Then a businessman again. Now, I’m thinking about retiring altogether.”
“You are?”
“Ford’s coming home. The company is branching out. Graham is doing a fine job.” He smiles softly. “I’m tired, Linc. I want to sit back and maybe have some grandkids driving me nuts. I want to take your mother on some vacations and have my phone stop ringing so damn much. I’m getting old, kid.”
My jaw is hanging open. I barely register the car has stopped and someone is walking towards us. I just look at him and watch him laugh at my reaction.
“What I’m saying is this: don’t worry too much. What’s done is done. We don’t always see eye to eye and part of that is because you’re a lot like your old man, Lincoln,” he chuckles. “You’re hard-headed. You’re a man’s man. You’re opinionated, and while that makes me want to strangle the life out of you sometimes, I also respect that.”
“Wow,” I whisper, exhaling a deep breath.
“Graham’s coming, so I want to say this quick and be done,” he says quickly. “Out of all my children, you are the one I worry about the least. Yes, I may second guess you and question your decisions, but it’s only because I want to make sure you’ve thought it through. But, like me, you’ll figure out a way to succeed. Nothing will hold you back.”
He pats me on the leg, stands, and heads across the lawn to meet Graham. I just watch, speechless, unsure as to what the hell just happened.
Danielle
“MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME.” VIVIAN Landry taps the side of a stool facing into the kitchen as she makes her way to the refrigerator. “How was your trip?”
“Good,” I say, not sure whether to sit or stand. She indicated to sit, but maybe I should stand. “Do you need help with anything?”
She glances at me over her shoulder, a warm smile splashed against her porcelain skin. “Don’t be silly. You’ve been traveling all day. Sit down and let me get you something to refresh you.”
Sienna waltzes in and joins her mom in the kitchen. She, however, hops on the counter top just like I’ve seen Lincoln do a million times. It makes me grin as I climb onto the stool.
They make me nervous. Not because they’re Lincoln’s family—I’ve met a guy’s family before. Not because they’re wealthy or so beautiful. It’s because they’re different. They are a family. They like each other. It leaves me a little uncertain how to proceed.
“What do you like?” Vivian asks. “Water? Hot cocoa? Tea?” She looks at her daughter. “When do we sit on counters, Sienna?”
“Come on, Mom,” she sighs playfully. “It’s the Farm. Not your house. I’m not tainting your counters with my as—behind.”
Vivian flashes her a warning glance. “Careful, little girl.”
Sienna reacts with a bubbly laugh and picks a piece of celery off a plate beside her. Twirling it in the air, she looks at me. “It’s nice to have you here, Danielle.”
“Thanks,” I blush. “It’s nice being here.”
“Will your family miss you for the holiday?” Vivian asks, pulling a tray with two pitchers on it from the refrigerator. A little bubble of panic floats to the top of my throat as I try to figure out how to tell these people I’m nothing like them. I’m more than relieved when she keeps talking and doesn’t wait on an answer. “I hate when my kids can’t come for Thanksgiving. It’s our favorite holiday, the one not marred by gifts and cards and money,” she says, shooting Sienna a look.
“I don’t ask for money,” Sienna shoots back. “Daddy just gives it to me.”
Vivian lets it go and instead pulls three heavy glasses from a mahogany cabinet. “You are spoiled rotten.”
“That’s why I’ve had a job since I was fifteen, right?” Sienna asks, crunching on the celery. “Because I’m so spoiled.”
“A little work never hurt anyone,” Vivian retorts, handing me a glass of dark liquid. “If you want something else, just ask. I got sidetracked here with my mouthy daughter.”
Sienna blows her mom a kiss. Vivian walks across the room, grabs her daughter’s face, and kisses her cheek.
They’re so easy with each other. Mother and daughter, yes, but something more. Something I’ve never really seen before. Maybe this is unconditional love.
“Danielle?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, fidgeting as I come back to the present. “It’s just been a long day.”
“Do you need to lie down?” Sienna asks. “I can take you up to your room. Lincoln always tries to take mine, but since I got here first, y’all are at the end.”
I can’t help but laugh at the smug look on her face. “That’s okay. I think Lincoln wanted to show me around when he gets back. He was pretty excited to bring me here.”
“It’s our favorite place,” Sienna smiles. “Our parents don’t live here, so we didn’t grow up here in that sense. But we’ve celebrated every holiday except Christmas morning, every big occasion, every summer break here.”
“I can see why.”
“What about you?” she asks. “What does your family do for holidays?”
I swallow by a lump in my throat and fidget in my seat. Vivian’s perfectly executed brow lifts ever-so-slightly. “My parents travel. Holidays really aren’t a big deal in my family,” I say as nonchalantly as possible.
“What?” Sienna almost barks. “How are they not a big deal?”
“Sienna,” Vivian breathes, giving her a look to shush her. I’m grateful for it, yet nervous because she senses my unease. That will lead to questions and it’s not something I want to get into.
These people are Americana. They’re as red-white-and-blue as apple pie. They’ll never understand my life. To them, I’ll be the black sheep of my family and I’m sure they’ll think I’m blemished in some way. Isn’t that how it will look? Why else would a set of successful, socially prominent parents have nothing to do with their only child?
“It’s fine,” I lie, smiling gratefully at Vivian. “My parents are just super busy.” Sipping my tea, I gather myself. “So, Sienna, what do you do?”
“I’m a fashion designer.” Her eyes sparkle as she grabs another stem of celery. “I live in Los Angeles, but am considering a move to Paris.”
“You just think you are,” Vivian scoffs, pulling various boxes and cartons from a pantry. “You are not moving overseas, Sienna LeighAnn.”
Sienna rolls her eyes behind her mother’s back, making me laugh. “No, I should move home and live with Camilla. We can wear matching rompers and attend all your social functions like the girls in My Best Friend’s Wedding.”
A giggle escapes my lips before I can stop it. Vivian looks at me and smiles. “She’s a handful.”
“At least I’m not a weirdo,” Sienna says, chomping on the vegetable again. “Like my dear twin sister. Where is she, anyway?”
Vivian releases a long, heavy sigh. “She’s supposed to be here,” she says, looking at the iron clock on the wall. “An hour ago. You need to t
alk to her, Sienna. See if you can find anything out.”
“What’s going on?” I ask before I stop myself. “I’m sorry. I just way overstepped my bounds.”
“No, honey, it’s fine,” Vivian says, swiping a manicured hand in the air. “My other daughter is usually the first one to all family functions, an ever-present fixture in all our lives.”
“We call her Swink because she’s always in our business,” Sienna points out. “But all of a sudden, she’s gone. I mean, she’s here. She’s around. But she doesn’t call me anymore. She’s not answering Graham’s calls. She’s not—”
“—showing up as usual,” Vivian sighs. “I’m sure she’s fine. She sounds fine. She’s just going through something, that’s all.”
As if she can’t think about it a moment longer, Vivian turns back and works to form a tray of little sandwiches and fruits. And that’s the end of that.
Lincoln
My father greets my older brother quickly before heading back to the house. I stand, still a little perplexed, and walk towards the car. Graham is standing at the hood of the car waiting on me.
“Hey,” I say as I reach him.
“Good to see you.” Graham pulls me into a quick, one-arm hug. “How was your flight?” He tugs on his green tie, loosening it from around his neck.
“How do you wear that shit every day?” I ask, watching him unbutton the top button. “Don’t you feel like a monkey in a suit?”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t you feel like a giant little boy playing ball every day?” he teases.
“A giant little boy a lot of chicks want to fuck.”
“I’ll tell you a secret,” he says, heading to the driver’s side door. “Chicks might like ball players. Women like suits.”
Climbing in the passenger’s side, I laugh. “Whatever you say.”
“Speaking of women, did you bring Danielle?”