Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
He unfolds his hands and leans back, grabbing the edge of the picnic table. He watches me closely. “And what is it that you want to do, Cole?”
Fuck if I know.
I stand and stretch my arms over my head. My right shoulder pulls from the injury I sustained on national television last year—a high throw to home and Balmby needing to score . . . and me in the way. At least I got him out.
But what do I want to do? That’s easy. I want to play baseball. Live the life I’ve always lived.
I want to get up in the morning, go to the field, work out, play ball. Then go home, have dinner, call a woman if I’m feeling that kind of way, and go to bed.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
Except I can’t. And I never will again.
My stomach twists so tight that I think I might puke.
“What do I want to do? Are you trying to get rid of me already, old man?” I ask, biting back bile.
“You know better than that.”
“I’ve only been here two days. I couldn’t possibly be driving you crazy yet.”
Dad gets to his feet. “You know that having you here is the best thing to happen to me and your mother in years. We’ve missed you. We’ve not gotten to see you nearly enough, but it was a sacrifice we all had to make and we made it happily. Hell, you could move in, and your mother would be over the moon.” He smirks. “But if you hear something in the middle of the night, close your ears.”
“Dad!” I make a face. “What . . . no. No. That’s my mother.”
He chuckles, amused with himself.
“I’m definitely not moving in with you. I’m retired, not desperate,” I say, physically shaking the idea out of my head.
“So, are you staying in San Diego?”
“Maybe.” I pace around Mom’s bright-yellow tulips. “It’ll probably depend on what offers come in and what my agent thinks I should do. There’s lots to consider.” I hope.
“Makes sense.”
I blow out a breath and shove my hands in my pockets. I stop walking.
The knot tightens like it does late at night, when there’s no way to distract myself from reality. I hate thinking about all this. There is no great solution.
There’s also no one to talk to about it. Not really. Not without making it a big deal . . . and making it real.
“What’s Mom making for dinner?” I ask, desperate for relief.
“Your favorite—chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes.”
I smack a mosquito on my arm. “Well, let’s go in and get cleaned up before it’s time to eat. I’m a mess from that fence.”
Dad wraps his arm around my shoulders, and we head toward the house. “You know what, Cole?”
“What?”
We stop at the base of the stairs that lead to the back door. Dad turns to face me.
“We love this little town,” he says. “I hope you find some of the magic that your mom and I have found here.”
He walks up the stairs. As if he knows I need a moment, he disappears into the house and leaves me standing alone.
I face the backyard and breathe in the fresh evening air. It’s crisp and clean. It’s nice.
It would be so easy to get overwhelmed, to spin out of control with the decisions I have to make. A part of me wants to sit down and just get it all sorted, no matter how hard it is. But another part of me wants to do what I do best—ignore it as long as I can.
“Who are you, anyway? Why are you here?”
“Aren’t you too young for retirement?”
My lips twist into a smile. “Palmer Clark. You can call me Palmer.”
Ignoring it is even easier when I have a distraction readily available. And distractions don’t get any better than Palmer Clark.
I take my phone out of my pocket and find her name. My text from earlier today is still unreturned. There are no missed calls either.
I consider texting her for the second time since I walked out of Fletcher’s but decide against it. There’s no sense in looking thirsty. This is a small town, after all. We’re bound to run into each other again soon.
My phone goes back in my pocket.
“I hope you find some of the magic that your mom and I have found here.”
A smile tickles my lips as I take the stairs to the kitchen.
I don’t know about magic, but I think I’ve found the perfect diversion. And that’s all I need right now.
CHAPTER FOUR
PALMER
Oof.”
I set the laundry basket down with a thud. One of Ethan’s sweatshirts tumbles off the pile and lands on the floor. I pick it up, smiling at the wild tie-dye design that he’s suddenly become enamored with.
The shirt was a few dollars at an off-price retailer in Forest Falls. He’s worn it so often that the drawstring has been pulled out of the hoodie and a little hole has formed in the right cuff. He’ll probably wear it until it disintegrates in the washing machine.