The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs Book 2)

by Kate Stewart

  “I know,” she says softly. “I just keep avoiding his questions.”

  “It’s time to stop. We’ll tell him together that sometimes grown-ups fight and don’t always know how to fix it. But if they’re family, they find a way to work it out. And we will.”

  She nods, looking more forlorn than she did when I walked into the room.

  “Troy, I don’t ever want him to lose you because of me.”

  “He won’t. I just needed to step back, for me.”

  She worries her bottom lip and nods.

  “We apologize and move on. If we’re okay, he’s okay.”

  “Right.” She nods. “You’re right.”

  “It just feels shitty now because we got knocked out of sorts. We’ll fix it.”

  “Okay,” she straightens, and exhales a stressed breath.

  “Okay.”

  I stand and look down at her, and she tugs at my hand, sliding her fingers between mine. “I’ve always credited myself with having it together, having it under control.” Her face crumbles. “I’m not feeling so together anymore.”

  “You and me both. It’s just a rough time. It’ll pass. Let’s just concentrate on him for the moment, okay?” I pull my hand away from hers and see the sting in her eyes. Touching her right now means playing with more fire and I refuse to let my son burn again. He’s suffered enough. And not just now. He’s paid for years of our back and forth, our mistakes.

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “Okay. He got in trouble today at school?”

  She nods and I resist the urge to brush the hair from her shoulder. “Let me take this one. Why don’t you call Parker, go out, and get some TLC? Have some wine. I’ve got him.”

  “Yeah, that sounds…I could use that. You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Thank you. I’ll, I’m…God, I’m a mess.”

  “You’re beautiful,” I whisper, unable to help myself as I push a dark red lock away from her shoulder. Imploring blue eyes stare up at me before I make a quick exit out of her room, fists clenching. It’s then I know, it doesn’t matter that my mind is determined to quit her, my heart will never catch up.

  Kayla’s Southern Style Potato Salad

  Property Manager, Texas

  Makes 8 servings

  45 minutes

  4 Lbs. Red Potatoes – scrubbed & cut into bite-size pieces

  4 Large Eggs

  1 1/4 Cups Mayonnaise

  1/2 Cup Finely Chopped Green Onion Tops

  1 3/4 Tsp. Salt

  1/2 Tsp. Celery Seeds

  Boil potatoes with skin on until tender but not too soft. Drain and set aside to cool.

  Boil eggs for 12 minutes after water comes to a boil. Peel and let cool. Cut into bite-size pieces.

  In a large bowl, mix mayonnaise, salt, celery seeds and onion until thoroughly mixed. Add potatoes and eggs. Mix gently until blended.

  Serve at room temperature for up to 2 hours after making. Refrigerate leftovers.

  It tastes best when served at room temperature but is delicious cold, too.

  Clarissa

  Parker and I spend the day getting our nails done and opening a few bottles of wine. Parker simply listens and nods. The best type of friend can linger in the dark with you awhile without trying to shed light. So, instead of trying to point out an upside or spout off some words of encouragement, she simply held my hand and dwelled there with me. And I felt better for it. Nothing resolved, but with a polished set of nails and slight wine buzz, I walk through my front door to see the living room empty.

  It’s a little after eight. I assume Dante’s halfway through his book with Troy and make my way toward his bedroom. Just as I’m about to open his door, I’m stopped short by the conversation on the other side.

  “—Sometimes, women need men to be strong, so they aren’t so scared themselves. But if you find one you really care about, you can tell them what you’re afraid of, and they’ll have your back too.”

  “Do you have Mommy’s back?”

  “Yep and yours until I take my last breath. That’s a promise.”

  “Then Mommy and me have your back, Troy. We promise too.”

  “Good to know, bud.”

  “Hey, Troy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you going away like you said?”

  “Probably.”

  “K.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll never leave you long.”

  “A week, two tops,” Dante squeaks as if they’ve had this conversation before.

  “Right.”

  “And you’ll call me every day,” Dante reminds.

  “That’s right. Every day.”

  “‘Cause I’m your sun, and you’re my moon, and where I go, you’re right behind me.”

  “Right.”

  “‘Cause you love me.”

  He pauses before giving a hoarse reply. “So much, bud.”

  “Don’t be sad, Troy. One week, two tops.”

  “Right.”

  “I love you.”

  “Love you too. Goodnight.”

  Hand over my mouth, I race to the bathroom and turn the fan and shower on. I’m still crying uncontrollably a minute later when Troy knocks on the door. I can’t bring myself to open it.

  “Hey,” I say, a clear rattle in my voice.

  “Hey, when did you get in?”

  I stifle my cries in my hand, knowing I’m taking too damn long to reply.

  “J-j-just a minute ago…I wanted to take a quick shower before I tucked him in,” my voice cracks and I wince hoping he didn’t hear it. He pauses outside the door, and I know I’ve given myself away. He’s still punishing me, and for him, I’ll endure it, in hopes one day he’ll forgive me. In hopes that one day, he’ll look at me the way he did just weeks before. Parker told me today that he waited over six years for me to see him for who he really is. It’s now my loyalty in question and my own redemption I’m after.

  “I have a shift later. I’m going to head out.”

  “Okay, goodnight.”

  “Night.”

  Troy

  The phone rings just as I get out of class, and I see Clarissa’s name and stop in the middle of the hall. She never calls anymore.

  “Hey, everything okay?”

  Silence on the other end of the line, followed by a sniffle, has me on high alert. “Clarissa?”

  “Troy.” This cry is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. I make a beeline for my mom’s truck.

  “I’m on my way. What happened?”

  “I happened. I…j-just, I’m sorry.”

  “What for?”

  “Can…can you come over?”

  “I’m coming. Is Dante okay?”

  “Oh, he’s fine. I’m sorry if I worried you. I’m fine,” another sob. “I just…I’m sorry. I’m sorry…for so much.”

  “Clarissa, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “You’re on your way?”

  “Yes, I’ll be there in ten.”

  “O-kay.” She sobs again, and my heart plummets as I speed toward her house.

  Racing down the road, I wrack my brain for anything that could have happened, the panic inside me building. She keeps apologizing, but I can’t imagine what for, and it’s killing me inside. After an agonizing drive, I rush to her front door, feeling Theo’s eyes on my back as I knock sharply and then let myself inside. I find Clarissa at her kitchen table, a piece of paper in her hand. She looks over to me, her face soaked with tears before she sets the letter down on the table and turns to me, twisting her hands in front of her.

  “Where’s Dante?”

  “With your mother. They’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  I reach her in two strides and pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “I just…Troy, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for locking you out of his life. I’ve been admitting it to myself for months, but it’s time I admit it to you.”
I keep her close, encircling her in my arms as she looks up at me with tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was wrong, so wrong to keep you away from him. I was so angry and terrified, but that’s no excuse. It was a huge mistake, and I’ll never be able to make it up to you.”

  I shake my head. “No more apologies. I understand why you did it. I’m not saying it was right, but maybe it wasn’t wrong either. We’ve been back and forth over this. Why are you so upset?”

  She turns back to the table and lifts the paper. “I was going through his folder, and I found this and…here.”

  Hesitantly, I let her go and take the letter, my eyes burning when I see Dante’s handwriting and the first sentence.

  I don have a daddy. But I have my naybor Troy. And he better than having a daddy. Because he my very best frend. He watches my videos. He plays XBox with me. He weres my merch. He give me choclates Mommy says I cant have. If I could have a Daddy I would pick Troy. But I don need one no more.

  “This is,” I look up to Clarissa, whose eyes search mine as she nods and nods.

  “He chose you.” A tear I can’t help slides down my face as she palms my cheeks. “He chose you no matter what his DNA is. He chooses you.”

  “This is…thank you.”

  “Keep it. It’s yours. He’s yours, no matter how much I’ve screwed it up. He’ll always be yours.” She sniffles again, and I pull her to me and wipe her tears away with my thumbs. “It’s okay, Clarissa. I’m not mad anymore. I’m not anything anymore. I just want us to be good.”

  “Troy, it’s time.”

  “Time?” My heart begins to pound.

  “Past time to tell him. Just another thing to be sorry for.” She worries her lip. “I hope he forgives me.”

  “He won’t even hold a grudge.”

  “He’s half mine,” she grimaces through fear-filled eyes. “There’s a good chance he’s good at holding a grudge.”

  I’m smiling like an idiot. “We really doing this?”

  “Yes,” she wraps her arms around me and leans in and whispers in my ear. “I’m so glad it was you, Troy. I know I’ve led you to believe otherwise in the past, but I’m so glad it was you. You’re an amazing father.”

  I pull her to me, the scent of her shampoo making breathing harder, but I ignore it and let the feel of her in. It’s been so long since I’ve had her this close. I ignore the bells going off and simply hold her, leaning in. “And I couldn’t want a better mother for my son.” When we separate, she’s smiling. “Can I be there when you tell him?”

  “Yeah, of course. We should do this together.”

  “This is special. I want this to be about the two of you.”

  “I want you there. I’m nervous.”

  “There’s no reason to be. He’s going to be over the moon.”

  “Do you trust me to say the right thing?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I do. I trust you, Troy. I really do.”

  I sigh a breath of relief. “Thank you. What do you think I should say?”

  She wipes beneath her eyes. “Whatever is in your heart.”

  “Dante, can you put that down for a minute so I can talk to you?”

  “Man to man?” He asks, and I can’t help my grin.

  “Of course.”

  “Let’s go to my office.” He heads toward the porch eyeing his mother. He knows something’s up. My son is no dummy.

  “Why is Mommy crying?”

  “She’s happy.”

  “I don’t cry when I’m happy.”

  “You will one day.”

  “Have you?”

  I have a feeling I’m close.

  “Sure, I have. Come on, bud.” Dante steps outside just as the breeze picks up. He turns to me expectantly, and I kneel down in front of him where he stands. “So, I know you’ve been wondering about your daddy.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I wanted to be the one to tell you…I’m your daddy.”

  “Funny,” he says with a nervous giggle. “You’re not my daddy.”

  “I am your daddy. I promise. That’s why I moved next door, so I could be closer to you.”

  “You’re playing.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m your daddy.” I tell him in a serious tone, and from the look on his face, he believes me. His smile disappears as he glances past my shoulder at Clarissa and then back to me. I can feel his confusion, the nervous rattle coming from his frame as his world tilts on its axis.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?” His lip quivers as he looks through the screen where his mother stands. “Mommy?”

  “It’s true,” she says tearfully. “Troy is your daddy.”

  “You didn’t tell me till now?”

  “I wanted you to know me first before I told you. We both did.”

  Dante looks lost and again looks to his mother as fat tears spill down his cheeks. He’s so incredibly raw, so vulnerable, my heart drops when his tone turns accusatory. “Mommy, did you know before?”

  “Yes, baby.”

  “How long?”

  “As long as you’ve been alive.”

  He draws his brows. “How?”

  “That’s another talk we’ll have one day,” I say, unable to help the upward tilt to my lips, which disappears the minute I hear Dante’s voice crack.

  “You both didn’t tell me!”

  “Look at me, Dante,” I say, shooting Clarissa a reassuring look before facing him. Dante finally gives me his undivided attention, and I see the hurt, along with a little wonder that sparks some hope inside me. “There’s a play in football called fourth and inches. And what that means is that it’s your last chance to reach the goal line. You have to make your very best play to reach it, or the chance is gone. When you get to this point, you’re so close that you can taste it, touch it, feel it, but you have a way to get to the goal. You have to work really, really hard to get there. Do your absolute best. And that’s what I’ve been doing since the day you were born.”

  His voice shakes with his question. “I’m the goal?”

  “You’re the goal.”

  His face crumbles, and relief washes over me as he collides with my chest and cries into my shirt. I run a soothing hand down his back as his little body shakes. Surprised by his response, a little sob erupts out of Clarissa from where she stands. “It’s okay, buddy, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m your daddy from today on, okay?”

  He nods into my shirt, his unexpected emotion causing my eyes to well. Clarissa wipes her eyes as ours connect over his shoulder, and she gives me a teary smile. Dante cries for a few minutes as I continue to tell him how I love him, of how bad I want to be his daddy. Of how I’ve always loved him. Of how I couldn’t wait to tell him. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever done. And if you’ll let me have this job, I’ll be so happy.”

  “You make me happy,” he sniffs as he pulls away and looks at his mom. “That’s okay, right, Mommy?”

  “Of course,” she says, clearing her face with her palms.

  Dante looks back to me with apprehension on his features.

  “You can still be the man of the house.”

  “I know.”

  Clarissa and I chuckle as his face crumbles again. I’ve never seen him so emotional, and I wonder if Clarissa has either.

  “So, what’s wrong then? Whatcha thinking?”

  “It’s just…” He puts a consoling hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Troy.”

  “For what? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “You must be really bad at football.”

  I draw my brows. “Why do you say that?”

  “I’m six!” His eyes widen. “You took a long, looong time to get to the goal. That’s not good. You are really, really, bad at football.”

  I throw my head back and laugh, and Clarissa joins us both on the porch, laughter bursting out of her. “I’m serious. This is serious,” Dante squeaks as we collectively gather him into our arms.

  Cindy’s Chocolate Ice Box Cake
>
  Administrative Assistant, Boston, MA

  Makes 8 servings

  1 hour

  2 Packages German Chocolate

  4 Tbsp. Water

  4 Eggs – Separated

  1 Tsp. Vanilla

  1 Dozen Lady Fingers – Plain

  1/2 Pint Whipping Cream

  3/4 Cup Sugar

  Dissolve chocolate in double broiler. Add water and stir well. Fold in slightly beaten egg yolks. Add vanilla. Cool Mixture. Beat egg whites until stiff. Fold cooled chocolate mixture into egg whites. Line narrow bowl or mold with Lady Fingers, brown side out. Pour 1/2 chocolate mixture over Lady Fingers. Add another layer of Lady Fingers. Add the rest of the chocolate mixture. Chill in the refrigerator until set (about 2 hours). Whip whipped cream and sugar until stiff. Top chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles.

  Clarissa

  It’s been the longest week of my life. With finals out of the way, the school days drag by. I’m merely going through the motions at this point. Passing my real estate exam brought me little joy, and for the last few nights, I’ve been updating my résumé to send to realtors, in hopes of finding the right fit. With the end of the school year just around the corner, I’m thankful for the distraction of working this summer. With the job comes flexible hours, which I’ll need to get to spend my time with Dante. I’m hoping with the extra income, I’ll be able to afford our first real vacation.

  Troy graduates soon, and I have every intention of watching him walk the stage with or without an invite, but I’ve been holding my breath in hopes for one. Whether he thinks so or not, he’s still punishing me. Keeping me at arm’s length. We’re back to the place of doing things together as a family, and while I’m all smiles while we’re together, inside my heart withers with every goodbye. Soon he’ll be gone for weeks at a time.

  It’s taken all my strength not to ask any questions about us, but as far as I can tell, he meant what he said. Dante may be our only tie.

  Laptop open, I sit in my chair, staring up at the ceiling berating myself for what I had, and the chance I lost. Men like Troy don’t come around often. I’m furious with myself for ever thinking differently. For taking advantage of his patience. For not waking up sooner. I just keep remembering the inhuman amount of patience he displayed when it came to me, and that’s all that keeps me going.