by Stella
Corinne placed her tiny, chocolate-covered hand on my arm. “Hate is bad,” she said, vigorously shaking her head on the last word.
“I know. Someone should tell Katie that.”
“Someone should tell me what?” Out of all the times she came down the stairs, she chose this one to do it quietly. Go figure—she probably sensed we were talking about her and wanted to sneak up on us.
“Hate is bad.” Instead of shaking her head as she elongated the word “bad,” she held up her pointer finger and wagged it back and forth, just like I’d seen her mother do time and time again when unjustly punishing this sweet angel.
Katie glanced between the toddler at my side and me, standing directly in my line of sight of the television. Apparently, she didn’t care that I couldn’t see through her wild hair, because she didn’t move, no matter how obvious I made the fact I couldn’t see the game.
“Yeah, Katiebug, hate is bad.” When in doubt, repeat a child.
“I’m not really sure why you’re having a two-year-old tell me that, but okay. Is Coby here?”
“Nope. He dropped off my wingman about an hour ago to run some errands. So you can uncross your arms now.” I wagged my brows, not caring if my insinuation of seeing her braless in a thin shirt pissed her off. “No need to get all modest in front of me. I’ve seen. I’ve tasted. I likey.”
Katie’s stare narrowed and darkened just as the crease between her brows deepened. “Don’t talk like that in front of her.”
“What? She doesn’t know what I’m talking about.”
Just then, Corinne giggled, calling our attention to her scrunched face and squinted eyes. “Likey,” she repeated, full of hilarity. And then, as if on purpose, she wiped her hand down her pink shirt, directly over her chest.
“See? She knows exactly what you meant.” Katie stomped her foot and then ran for the stairs.
Before she made it to the top, I called out, “No she doesn’t. She was just wiping off her hand. Right, Rinny?”
“Right, Age.” With a stern nod, she licked her lips and went right back to the tub of Nutella in her lap. Either the spoon was too big or she was too small, because it seemed she had difficulties scooping out the chocolatey goodness and bringing it to her mouth.
I didn’t care, though—as long as she was happy, I was happy.“You know, you’re not supposed to scare her off. You’re supposed to make her want to be around me. It’s kinda hard to win her over with my impeccable charm if she’s never in the same room.”
With a mouthful of Nutella, Corinne gave me some amazing advice. I couldn’t be sure of the exact wording, since not much of it was intelligible, but I got the gist of it—if Katie won’t be in the room with me, I should be in the room with her.
“You’re such a smart kid. I hope I’m as smart as you are when I’m older.” I licked my spoon and dug in for more. There was nothing better than quality time with my best friend, and since Corinne was a direct extension of Coby, it was the same thing in my mind.
“You wike Eighty?”
“Yeah, I like Katie. She’s nice—to other people. I’ve had fun with her before, so I know she has it in her to pull the stick out of her ass. I mean, butt.” I faced her and leveled my stare with hers. “Don’t tell your mama I said a bad word, got it?”
“Yup!”
I hoped she meant yeah, she got it, though I wasn’t about to confuse her by asking. Not to mention, there was a good chance she’d already forgotten my slip-up, and reminding her might provoke her to tell Ellie. And if that happened, I’d be grounded.
“Good. Thanks, doll. Anyway…yeah, I guess you could say I like her. It’s kinda like your mom. We’re friends, even though she denies it most of the time. If push came to shove, she’d admit she cares about me. And if she knew without a doubt your dad would never find out, she might even confess to being in love with me. But we’ll never know for sure since your father stole her from me.”
Just then, a loud, barking laugh came from behind me. Either Katie intentionally quieted her steps, or someone came into the house while I was sleeping and added padding to the stairs. I’d been renovating this house for months, so I was confident the latter hadn’t happened.
“What’s so funny, Crispy Cream?” I asked when Katie joined us on the couch in the living room, no longer dressed in her sexy night clothes.
“I really wish you’d stop calling me that.”
“What’s the point in having the last name Crisp if no one can use it for creative nicknames?”
“You think you’re the first person to call me that?”
“Well, I did. Not anymore. Thanks for making me feel stupid.”
“Stupid a bad word,” Corinne added.
“You’re right. It is. Don’t tell Mommy I said that, either. Okay?”
She gave me a thumbs-up and went back to her snack.
“Fine. I won’t call you that anymore. I’ll just have to come up with something original, that no one else has ever called you. In the meantime…what’s so funny, Rice Crispy?”
She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. “Oh, nothing. I just find your delusions amusing.”
“Delusions?” I snatched the jar from Corinne and eyed the contents. “Did you put shrooms in here?”
“Oh my God, you’re stu—” Katie’s eyes flicked to Corinne and then back to me. “You’re intellectually challenged. Not hallucinations. Delusions. Such as your belief that Ellie is in love with you or that Coby stole her from you.”
“What do you know? You’ve never seen Ellie, and you only met Coby once less than a week ago. Clearly, you’re the one with delusions.”
“It doesn’t matter that I’ve never met her or don’t know him. Granny did, and she filled me in on the whole saga. She thought it was amusing, and at least once a week, she’d sit on the porch with a glass of tea and talk about the three of you like you were all her grandchildren.”
There was no way any of this was true. “She’d never sit around and laugh at me.”
“No. She didn’t laugh at you.” Katie’s eyes softened, as if she knew she’d hit a sore spot with me and felt bad. “But she was fully aware that you didn’t have feelings for Ellie like you used to pretend you did. She told me all about your antics. Like how you’d do or say things to rile Coby up because you could see he loved Ellie and you wanted to push him to realize that on his own. Or how you used to ask Ellie out all the time because you knew she loved him just as much, but she hadn’t admitted it to herself yet, and you wanted to keep her from dating anyone before Coby got his head out of his rear and did something about it. Yeah, Granny told me everything.”
Okay, so maybe it was all true. And once again, I wanted to raise my fist in the air and curse Granny for spilling my secrets. Then again, they weren’t really all that well kept. I mean, most of the guys on the team knew the truth, and the few who didn’t were either new or just thought I was lying to save face. It didn’t matter to me, because I knew what really happened. Coby was my best friend, and Ellie was his. A blind man could see they were in love long before they ever did, and knowing I had a hand in those two being together, I didn’t care what others believed.
Hell, I deserved a medal for getting Ellie to break Coby’s third-base curse. Seriously, Babe Ruth had nothing on Coby Kyler. There was a time I felt bad for getting laid, knowing he wasn’t. Although, not bad enough that it kept me from rounding the bases and sliding into home. I mean, I was the Home Run King for a reason.
“Are you two seriously eating Nutella straight out of the jar with spoons?” The disgust that curled her lip pulled me from my thoughts and almost made me laugh. The only reason I didn’t was that Katie had become a ticking time bomb, and any hint of happiness made her detonate.
“The kid said she was hungry, and knowing Coby, he didn’t feed her breakfast.”
“Did he bring a bag or anything for her?”
I pinched my brows in confusion. “Of course. It’s over there.”
She g
ot up and went to the backpack next to the front door where I had pointed and then came back with a grocery bag full of snacks. Holding it in one hand, she jutted out her hip and tapped her foot on the unfinished hardwood floor.
“That wasn’t there before.”
Rather than argue, she simply shook her head and took the food to the kitchen. “Regardless, why are you eating Nutella out of the jar with spoons?” she called out from the other room.
“What else was I supposed to eat it with? We’re out of bread.” I leaned closer to Corinne and whispered, “She asks silly questions, doesn’t she?”
Corinne nodded, agreeing—she truly was a smart kid.
“I have to admit, Gage…” Katie came back to the living room but didn’t take a seat on the couch. “I’m a little concerned with Coby’s parenting. No person in their right mind would leave their toddler with you unsupervised.”
“He said I needed practice. He’s helping me prepare for fatherhood.”
“You’re failing…miserably.”
“How? She’s happy. Aren’t you, Rinny?”
“Yeah!” Again, Corinne bounced on her bottom in excitement.
Katie regarded the child next to me and offered one of her rare smiles—the kind that barely lifted the corners of her mouth yet shone brightly in her eyes. It had been a while since I last saw one of those, probably before Granny died. It was the kind of smile I’d spent years trying to earn from her. I knew if I ever saw it directed at me, that would mean she no longer hated me. Needless to say, that hadn’t happened yet.
“I’m going to run to the store. I’ll be right back.”
“Oh, while you’re there, can you pick up a few things for me?”
Katie stilled and turned nervous eyes to me. “Um, sure. What do you need?”
I held up a finger to have her wait and then ran into the kitchen for the list I had stuck to the fridge. “I’ve read a whole article last night about foods you should be eating. They say you’re eating for two, but you’re really not. And even though you need to gain weight, there’s a difference between good and bad weight.”
She took the list from my hand and studied it. “I don’t need all this. I’ll be fine. But thanks for the thought.”
“Listen, I’m not trying to control what you eat and drink—or even how you sleep—I’m just trying to follow good advice for the sake of you and the baby. I’ll even do all this with you. Well, except the prenatal vitamins. I’m not sure those will do me any good. But I’ll give up caffeine and eat this shit, too.”
She smiled, although it wasn’t like the one she’d given Corinne. This one was almost sad, and I had no idea why. However, she didn’t argue with me. Instead, she nodded and walked away.
I resumed my seat on the couch and went back to watching the game, even though I no longer paid any attention to it. Corinne babbled next to me, and I did my best to keep up with her, but my thoughts were stuck on Katie, and that sad, pitiful grin that sat heavy on her naturally pink lips.
Less than an hour after she left the house, my phone chimed with a text.
Baby Mama: I hate you.
Me: Hate is baaaaaaaad.
Baby Mama: Wanna know what else is bad? Telling the store I’m not allowed to buy coffee.
Me: You already have coffee.
Baby Mama: You’re insufferable.
Me: I think you mean insatiable.
Baby Mama: You totally just asked Siri for that word didn’t you?
Me: I’m sorry, you must have a bad connection. I can’t hear you.
Baby Mama: It’s text, moron.
Me: I just asked Corinne, and she said that’s a bad word.
Baby Mama: Next time anyone wants to give you practice taking care of something to prepare you for fatherhood, they should start with a plant.
Me: That makes no sense.
Baby Mama: My point exactly. I’m on my way home. See you soon.
I don’t know why, but reading those words did something to me. It filled me with an emotion I was unfamiliar with, and for the life of me, I never wanted it to go away.
Baby Mama: PS thank you for paying for the groceries. I wasn’t expecting you to have a tab at the local mom and pop grocer.
Me: You don’t have celeb status until you have tabs at all the places that serve alcohol.
Baby Mama: They sell it…not serve it. Big difference.
Me: Potato tomato. Drive safe. See you soon.
See you soon. I don’t think I had ever said that to anyone other than Granny. And somehow, saying it to Katie felt completely different yet exactly the same. It made no sense, although I had no desire to analyze it. Then I locked my phone and took notice of the date.
The season started in six days. Nearly every afternoon, I was on the field practicing with all the players who weren’t on the Spring Training roster. It wasn’t like I could’ve forgotten when the first game was—or where, for that matter. Yet that was different, because I’d come home after my workout. Now, staring at the date and realizing I had to leave in less than a week and would be gone, out of state, for five days, I suddenly dreaded the one thing I’d always looked forward to.
See you soon.
Yeah, right. It should’ve been: I won’t see you for long.
Chapter Three
Katie
I’d spent six days watching the clock and waiting for Gage to walk out the door. I was in a perpetual state of irritation with him in the house, and the moment he left, my feelings waffled between agitation, intense periods of sexual arousal—pregnancy hormones were no joke—and longing for a man I couldn’t stand. He’d been here less than two weeks before he went on the road, and I’d grown used to his chatter and hovering. And now, the house ached the way it had when Granny died, and I was here alone. It was like the studs and the drywall needed a Nix to keep them company, and they groaned in their absence.
I’d spent the better portion of the days he’d been gone looking for a job, but the moment I told anyone I was pregnant, suddenly they didn’t have an immediate opening or were looking for someone with more experience—because apparently, you needed a Ph.D. to run the drive-thru at McDonald’s. The pregnancy wasn’t the only thing up in the air. I was living on borrowed time here. There was no telling when Gage would figure out I should be handing him a check on the first of each month, and as it stood, I was running out of cash to buy gas to look for work.
Without a job or anyone to occupy my time, my evenings consisted of wandering around the house, reading free books on my Kindle, lingering outside Granny’s room, and lying in Gage’s bed. At some point, the two of us would have to go through her things. It was a huge room currently going to waste, and even though it would give the baby and me a lot more space, it didn’t seem right. Somehow, it still belonged to her…or at the very least Gage, since he now owned the house.
I turned over on his mattress and stared out the window into the dusky sunset. More and more, I caught myself pressing my hand against my stomach, and I’d find myself smiling for no reason. The fields through the glass stretched for miles, completely untouched by anything other than nature. Gage had played in that grass as a child, and Granny had shared her fondest memories of him with me sitting in the rocking chair out front. They weren’t my memories, but since I had few pleasant ones of my own, I claimed hers. She wasn’t around anymore to keep them alive, and one day, I would be able to pass them off to her great-grandchild.
I eased off the bed when I heard the chime of my text messages. If I weren’t so lonely, I’d roll my eyes. Without Granny, Gage was all I had, and most of the time I didn’t want him—until I was by myself and he reached out.
Sperm Donor: Whatcha doing Crispy Critter?
Me: Having a cup of coffee.
Might as well entertain myself. There wasn’t a place within five miles of the house that would sell me a bag of beans or a cup of java. I could only imagine how Gage finagled that arrangement.
Sperm Donor: Who sold you coffee?
>
Me: I saw you guys won last night.
Sperm Donor: You watched the game?
There were times his inability to focus played in my favor.
Me: No. I said I saw that you won.
Sperm Donor: So you do care about me.
Me: There are twenty-four other players on the Titans’ active roster.
Sperm Donor: You can’t name five of them.
I was tempted to burst his bubble and name all twenty-four and the additional fifteen on the expanded list. If it wouldn’t feed his ego, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I hadn’t read up on baseball or watched countless hours of mind-numbing ESPN because of Gage; I was just bored. That was the bad thing about being unemployed and having no friends. I’d learned lots of useless knowledge just to pass the time—at least that’s what I’d convinced myself I was doing.
Sperm Donor: Did you see the highlights on ESPN?
Gage presented me with an opportunity to bridge a gap. I’d seen the highlights…after I watched the game. And then I’d seen them again on Sports Center. Those clips of him sliding into home and standing on third base in his uniform like he owned the field fueled my fantasies for hours after they’d gone off the air. Nothing like lust-filled isolation to get your vibrator going.
