Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game

by Katie Ashley

  I remember being absolutely beside myself with excitement as Mom packed up my clothes in my Power Rangers suitcase. Even Jake was pumped about my dad’s visit. “Will you get me his autograph?” he’d asked.

  But as bouncing off the walls as I was, I didn’t notice that Mom wasn’t sharing in my excitement. I would never forget the look on her face when my dad came to pick me up in a BMW convertible with a curvy blonde in the front seat. I might’ve been a kid, but I did appreciate the fact Tiffany wore low cut shirts and short skirts the entire weekend!

  It was a whirlwind four days that would’ve been any kids dream—going to the baseball park every day, staying up late, going to the zoo, the movies, getting to swim in the lake, and riding through the city with the top down.

  My dad took me to meet the team, and I even got to hang out in the dugout during batting practice. It was the first time in my life someone said, “Damn, Joe, he’s the spitting image of you!” I did look like my father, but it was something no one in my family would ever acknowledge. Poor Mom—it must’ve been a double edged sword to love someone so much who looked like someone you hated.

  I ate my weight in junk food. Unlike Mom, my dad never harped on me to eat vegetables, and I got ice cream at every meal—even if I didn’t clean my plate. It was absolute heaven, and I didn’t want it to end. When it was time to go, I pitched a fit and cried like a spoiled little brat.

  My dad knelt down beside me. “Hey kid, don’t cry. We’ll do this again real soon, I promise.”

  I nodded my head, but I was unsure if I really believed him. Mom came to pick me up at the lake house. Dad leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and told her how beautiful she looked. He said something about the two of them getting together the next time he was in town, but Mom didn’t reply. Now that I’m older, I realize what the douche bag was alluding to about getting together. Yeah, nothing like a booty call with the mother of your child.

  On the way home, I talked ninety miles a minute, filling my mom in on every detail—well, everything that wouldn’t get me in trouble like the ice cream and staying up late. She would smile and nod as I described every moment of the four days. Finally, when I was finished, I looked over at her. Huge, silent tears dripped off her face.

  And then something turned over in me. I wasn’t mad at Mom for crying at all my excitement. Somehow even at seven, I realized how much he’d hurt her. She wasn’t trying to be selfish—she was just a twenty-three year old girl still desperately in love with the prick who’d knocked her up and dumped her.

  The more I thought about it, I realized she’d been the one who’d gotten up with me during the night, who’d rocked me for hours when I was sick or cranky, who’d sing to me when I was scared, and kiss the bruises to make them go away. She’d sacrificed everything for me—her friends, her dating life, stretch marks…the whole nine yards.

  So I vowed then and there that unless my father wanted both of us, I’d never speak to him again. Mom argued with me over and over again. “Noah, Mommy is okay with you going to see your daddy, I promise. Please don’t do this!” she’d beg when I’d refuse his phone calls. She even forced me to talk to him a few times, but Granddaddy told her it wasn’t a good idea to do that to me.

  Finally, my dad stopped calling me. He would talk to Mom occasionally. So, like I did with everything else, I pushed the pain deep inside. I turned to my Granddaddy and to my uncles, and they became everything I needed—for a while. But I couldn’t run anymore. I was almost a man, and I needed to face the skeletons of my past.

  When I got home, I found the house dark. I breathed a sigh of relief to find the cheek pincher gone. There was a note on the counter.

  Noah,

  Greg and I have gone to have dinner at the Country Club and to finalize the menu for the

  reception. There’s some leftover chicken casserole in the fridge if you get hungry.

  Love ya,

  Mom

  I was kind of glad I had the house all to myself. I needed absolute quiet and privacy for what I was about to do. Without turning on any lights, I padded down the hallway to the office. On the desk was my mother’s black address book. Flipping through the pages, I stopped when I got to the P’s.

  My heart pounded in my ears, and my fingertips were so sweaty I could barely dial the numbers. When I finished, I shakily brought the receiver to my ear. He answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

  For a moment, I couldn’t find my voice. I sat paralyzed in the desk chair, trembling all over like a little girl. Get it together, dickwad! I thought to myself.

  Finally, I mustered my strength. “Uh, hey, you don’t really know me, but this is Noah—your son.”

  ***

  I’d barely eased to a stop in the Parker’s driveway when Josh came sprinting up to my Jeep. He was outfitted in a baseball cap, and he was wearing my dad’s jersey. I couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was squirming all over like a puppy.

  “Hey, Little Man, ready for the game?”

  “Oh yeah!”

  Maddie came out onto the porch. “Josh, you better get back here. You know what Mom and Dad said about putting on sunscreen.”

  Josh rolled his eyes. “All right,” he grumbled and started back for the porch.

  Damn, she looked fine as hell in her Sporty Spice game mode attire. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Praise God it was hot as hell as outside because she was wearing a rather revealing tank top and short-shorts. I glanced down at my crotch while thinking, “Down boy, don’t even think about it!”

  Maddie started lathering Josh down with SPF 50—first all over his arms and legs, and then finally, she took his cap off and started on his bald head. I couldn’t help snickering.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Don’t you think you’re overdoing it a little? He looks like he’s wearing a cream colored toupee!”

  Josh giggled, but Maddie shot me a death glare. “No, I don’t think I’m overdoing it.”

  “Okay, okay,” I said. I winked at Josh, and he tried to stifle his laughter.

  Once Maddie had sufficiently slathered two or three coats of sunscreen on Josh, we were ready to go. I helped him get in the back of the jeep, and then I held the door open for Maddie.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Finally we got on the road. It wasn’t long before we were cruising down the interstate towards Turner Field. As the skyscrapers came into view, Josh unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned forward. “We’re almost there!” he squealed.

  “Josh, put your seatbelt back on. It’s not like you’ve never been to Atlanta,” Maddie ordered.

  He reluctantly slid back and fastened it back. It was kind of fun having someone so enthusiastic along for the ride. It was certainly easing my nerves a little since today I would be seeing my dad for the first time in ten years.

  The call had set a lot of things in motion. It just so happened that my dad had a few upcoming games in Atlanta. When I told him about Josh, he offered to meet me at the stadium, and I’d agreed. He said he would take care of the details like the tickets and all, and then we could see each other after the game. Like a true egomaniac, he’d picked the one he was pitching in of course for us to come to.

  As Turner Field came into view, Josh could barely contain himself. “There it is! There it is!” he cried.

  “Yeah little man, we’re almost there,” I said.

  I exited off the interstate and followed the line of cars to a parking lot. A guy flagged us inside, and I rolled down the window and handed him a ten. By the time I pulled the Jeep into a spot, Josh was already out of his seatbelt and impatiently waiting for Maddie to get out.

  “Geez, Josh, calm down!” Maddie cried, as she unbuckled her seatbelt and grabbed her purse.

  Her feet barely hit the pavement when Josh leapt out behind her. “Come on,” he urged, as he hurried around the side of the Jeep. I grabbed his hand before he started to cross the road.


  “Whoa, Little Man. You gotta hang tight and stick with us, okay?”

  He reluctantly nodded.

  It was a typical scorching Saturday, and I was already breaking into a sweat by the time we reached the ticket window. “Yeah, I’m Noah Sullivan—Joe Preston has some tickets waiting on me.”

  The lady gave me a quick once over and then her eyes widened. I guess she saw the resemblance. “Even though I can tell it’s you, I need to see your driver’s license for verification.”

  I dug out my wallet and showed her. “Here you go. Enjoy the game!” she exclaimed, as she slid the tickets out to me.

  I’ve gotta say the Sperm Donor really went out. He scored us tickets in the air conditioned box where the extreme VIPS usually sit. Now only did we have an excellent view of the field, someone even came by to take our drink or food orders. It was tight.

  We’d barely eased into our seats when Josh hopped up and pressed his nose against the glass pane. “Look there he is!” he cried.

  My dad was striding out of the dug-out towards the pitcher’s mound. At the mere sight of him, my heart fluttered a little in my chest, and my stomach tightened into knots. Geez, if I was going to have this type of reaction to just seeing him, what was it going to be like when I met him? Would I puke or piss my pants?

  The minutes ticked by to game time. Finally, we rose for the National Anthem. The entire time I kept my gaze focused on my dad. I couldn’t help it. I scrutinized every motion he made—the way he brought his hand over his heart, the way his lip shuffled back in forth like he was impatient about something. I couldn’t help noticing that was one of the little quirks he had that I had inherited too. I guess I was searching his face for all the answers I desperately wanted to know about him—all the unanswered questions that had piled up over the years.

  It turned out to be an edge of your seat kinda game. Then in fifth inning, my dad gave up a home run. “Uh-oh,” Josh murmured, as the coach came out to the mound. “Think he’s done?” he asked me.

  “I don’t know. He might have a little left in him,” I replied.

  In the end, he did, and he managed to strike out the rest of the batters. The next inning the Padres caught up, and my dad’s sacrifice bunt helped them to take the lead. I don’t think I’d ever enjoyed a baseball game so much. The final score was Padres 5 and Braves 4. Josh danced around the box—which got us some strange looks from some of the Braves’ fans.

  When the game was over, an usher came up to us. “Mr. Preston asked me to bring you down for a tour of the field.”

  “Wow!” Josh exclaimed, as he shot out of his seat.

  Maddie grinned as we followed the usher out of the box. “Wait right here, please,” he instructed as we got down to the field.

  “Okay,” I replied.

  Maddie leaned over and whispered in my ear. “How are you holding up?”

  I jerked my gaze to meet hers. I didn’t know how she was always able to tell exactly how I was feeling. It was freaky, but it was also comforting. “I’m fine,” I lied.

  “Hang in there. It’s going to be fine, you’ll see,” she reassured me.

  We watched as some of the remaining players were being interviewed by news reporters, and a couple of players were giving autographs. Because of our VIP passes, they came over and talked with Josh and signed caps and posters.

  But my dad was nowhere to be seen. Then I turned around to see him striding towards us. It was one of those moments when your heart stops, and you have to struggle to breathe. I might’ve been almost eighteen years old, but there was a part of me that was still that seven-year-old kid inside, desperately wanting a father.

  Joe smiled and extended his hand. “Noah, it’s great to see you again.”

  When I shook his hand, I almost laughed when I found it as nervously clammy as mine was.

  He glanced over at Maddie and Josh. “And who are your friends?”

  “Oh yeah, this is Maddie Parker and her brother, Josh.” I ruffled Josh’s cap a bit. “I think he might be your biggest fan.”

  Josh stared open-mouthed at my dad like he was seeing a superhero or something. At my comment, he slowly bobbed his head in agreement.

  My dad laughed. “Well, you’re awfully small to be my biggest fan!”

  Normally Josh would have protested at being called small, but he was too stunned by “greatness” to argue. “I-It’s nice m-meetin’ you, Mr. Preston,” Josh stammered.

  “It’s nice meeting you as well.”

  Thrusting out the jersey that had come with the VIP package, Josh asked, “Can I have your autograph?”

  “Why, of course. Actually I think I can do much better than that. Why don’t you all join me for dinner tonight?”

  Josh seemed more surprised than I was. “Really?”

  “Of course.” He reached in his pocket and brought out his wallet. He thrust a fifty into Josh’s hands. “First, why don’t you and your sister go check out the souvenir tables? Maybe even get a milkshake. If they give you any trouble, tell them Joe sent you.”

  Josh beamed. “All right!” he cried.

  Maddie glanced up at me through her long dark lashes and then smiled knowingly. “We’ll see you later,” she said and then she hurried behind Josh who was already bounding away.

  My dad watched them go and then he turned back to me with a sly grin. Always the pimp and player, he mused, “She’s very beautiful.”

  “She’s just a friend,” I replied.

  He acknowledged my comment with a skeptical look before saying, “You know, this might sound a little strange, but she reminds me of your mother.”

  I’d thought the same thing myself, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to admit it. I didn’t like the sort of weirdo Oedipus thing it said about me that I was attracted to a girl who reminded me of my mom.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  He motioned for me to have a seat. We sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the crew clean and repair the field. Finally, he sighed. “Noah, I just want you to know that I’m really glad you got in touch with me.”

  I raised my eyebrows and fought the urge to spat, “Yeah right!” Instead, I managed a much more even tempered, “You are?”

  “Yes, I am. There’s been many times over the years I wanted to see you. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about you, wondered how you were doing, and if you still hated me.”

  My heart did a funny constricting squeeze in my chest at his words. But before I could stop myself, I blurted, “Yeah, well, you coulda fooled me!” When Joe’s brows shot up in surprise, I said, “I’m sorry. That didn’t exactly come out right.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “And I never hated you.”

  He looked at me in surprise. “You didn’t?”

  I shook my head. “No, not really. I was just pissed off at you.”

  “Because I didn’t stick around after you were born?”

  “Yeah, and some other things.” I stared at him a long minute. “Can I ask you some things?”

  “Sure.”

  I drew in a breath. “My mother…did you ever love her?”

  A sad expression came across his face. “You want the truth, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Joe exhaled a ragged breath. “I wish I could say yes, but I didn’t.”

  Ouch, that comment made me feel like I’d taken a karate chop to the groin. “Why?” I croaked.

  “Because I was a twenty-one year old asshole who didn’t know what love was! Believe me, it’s taken me years to finally find it,” he replied. He shook his head. “Noah, I want you to know I admit I was a first rate jackass towards your mother. Since you’re older, I think you can understand a little bit where I was coming from-” At the death glare I shot him, he gave a weary smile. “Or maybe not.”

  “No, I think I get what you’re saying. It’s just simple biology, right? You were just a horny frat boy alone in the middle of nowhere with a beautiful, innocent girl, right? It must’ve been a hell of a conques
t to be her first.”

  Joe’s expression darkened. “Your mother was never a conquest to me, Noah.”

  “Then what was she?”

  Turning away, he refused to meet my intense stare. “There’s no denying she was beautiful—she is still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever been with.”

  “Guess that’s saying a lot,” I growled.

  He held up his hand. “But it was more than that with Maggie. I knew she loved me—maybe even adored me. I’d seen it building for years—maybe from the first time I’d met her when she was just an awkward fourteen-year-old girl in braces. Then it was like she blossomed in front of me-”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s such a fucking cliché!”

  Joe didn’t flinch at my language or comment. He merely shrugged. “Well, it’s the truth, and you said you wanted the truth.” He eyed me before he continued. “During her senior year, things started to change between us. She grew bolder and even flirty—I think it even surprised her. And then that summer we were together every day. We’d go for long walks, swim in the lake, but mostly we talked. She was the only person who had ever really listened to me.” Joe stared down at his hands and cleared his throat. “And then it happened. I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen—”

  I interrupted him by snorting.

  He glanced at me. “I really didn’t, Noah. When I was young, I went out of my way to seduce girls. But it wasn’t that way with your mother. When I crossed that line, I threw everything away I had with your Uncle Mark and your grandparents.” A disgusted expression came over his face. “But I did it anyway. I was stupid and selfish, and in the end, I was a jerk who only thought with his dick.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes. “How is she?” he tentatively asked.

  “She’s good. She’s getting married.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, I knew that.”

  “You did?”

  “I’ve had my spies.”

  Suddenly, anger boiled in my veins. “Why did you have to have someone check-up on us? Why couldn’t your sorry ass come and see for yourself? Better yet, why didn’t you come for me?”