Back in the Game: A Stardust, Texas Novel (30 page)

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Authors: Lori Wilde

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Contemporary Fiction, #Romance, #Humour, #Contemporary

BOOK: Back in the Game: A Stardust, Texas Novel
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His phone dinged again.

“Don’t you want to get that? It’s got to be family or your best friends.”

“Keep stirring. I have an app that will read it to me.” He buried his nose in her hair, kissed the nape of her neck. She wriggled gleefully.

At that moment, a robotic female voice started reading the message. “Bro, they’re starting me on the Fourth of July against San Diego. You’re the only one who understands what this means. I hope you’ll come. Got two tickets waiting for you and a guest at will-call.”

“Looks like Zach is finally ready to make up,” she said. “Why don’t you call him back?”

“After cooking lessons.”

“This will wait. Zach is more important. Call him.”

Rowdy moved away, going for the phone. The space behind her was now empty, leaving her feeling lonely. The man had such presence. He’d ruined her for anyone else. Was she addicted to him? Oh gosh, she had it bad.

He picked up the phone, but didn’t dial. “Breeanne.”

She raised her head to see him standing in the sunlight cutting through the window, his gorgeous dark hair curling in all directions like crazed ocean waves. “Yes?”

“Do you want to come with me?”

Yes! She’d never been to a professional baseball game. “I was so scared you weren’t going to ask.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Absolutely,” she said, and it was only then that it fully sank in that Zach was pitching on the Fourth of July.

That afternoon
when she left Rowdy’s place, Breeanne stopped by Timeless Treasures to let her family know she wasn’t going to be the family’s big annual Fourth of July blowout.

The Fourth of July was her family’s favorite holidays, bigger even than Christmas, because it was the date they’d flown to Korea to bring Suki home. Their friends and neighbors had taken up a collection so she, Jodi, and Kasha could go as well, although Breeanne had only been three at the time and didn’t remember going.

Mom was behind the counter, checking out the last customer of the day. Dad was carrying a Tiffany lamp out to the car for an elderly lady. Suki spotted her from the balcony, and came running downstairs to greet her.

“You’ve gained weight,” Suki said as she hugged her. “Looking good. Rowdy agrees with you.”

“Thanks.” She’d told Suki about the seduction that went awry, but she hadn’t told her about their Rookie Rules arrangement.

Suki hugged her again. “I have so missed you. When are you coming back? It’s so boring up there. People keep asking me stuff like ‘What was John Irving’s first book?’ I mean who knows—

“Setting Free the Bears
.

Suki rolled her eyes. “Who cares?”

“Book lovers. You are running a bookstore. That’s your customer base.”

“See there? That’s the problem. I’m
not
a book lover. I mean they’re okay, but I don’t have a passion for them. Now if we were talking jewelry or clothes . . .” Suki turned to their mother. “Mom, can we turn the bookstore into a boutique?”

“No,” their mother said without looking up. “Breeanne will be back when she finishes writing her book. Suck it up, Suki.”

The customer laughed. “I love the way you and your children interact, Maggie. It’s one of the things that keep me coming in. How is the book coming, Breeanne?”

“Great. Busy, busy, busy.”

“That’s right, we hardly see her anymore.” Mom shot Breeanne a chiding look that said,
You’ve
been neglecting your family, young lady
.

Her chest tightened. She glanced away, curled her fingers into her palms. Breaking the news that she was not going to be at their Fourth of July celebration wasn’t going to be easy.

“Honey,” Mom said after the customer left the store. “Could you fix your delicious seven-layer dip for Saturday? Brent Taylor is on leave from the army and he’s coming to the party. He specifically asked about you, and your dip.”

“Mom’s playing matchmaker,” Suki whispered to her behind her palm, as if Breeanne couldn’t figure that out, as if Mom couldn’t hear her. “She’s worried Rowdy is having a negative influence.”

“Beverly Crownover saw you two at the picture show,” her mother said. “She said you were kissing in the back row.”

“Good going!” Suki grinned.

“You and Rowdy what?” Dad asked, coming up behind them.

Oh no. Telling Mom was one thing, Dad was another solar system altogether.

“I want all the dets later,” Suki whispered in her ear. “You just made minding the bookstore worth it.”

“Breeanne?” Her father came around to join their mother at the counter and add his disapproving look. “What’s going on?”

Backing down would be so easy. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Because her life had been filled with so much struggle and pain, she had learned to take the easy way out when it was an option. She couldn’t avoid surgeries and hospital stays, but she could avoid disturbing her parents. Taking the quiet road, the soft road, the easy road had kept her stagnant. If she ever hoped to flower and grow, she had to make noise, drive over a few of life’s potholes, make mistakes.

Loving Rowdy might turn out be the dumbest thing she’d ever done, but she would learn from it. She would change. And once the pain of losing him had passed—because she would eventually lose him, of that she had little doubt—she would flourish in her newfound sexuality.

No pain, no gain. If she hadn’t endured that pain of surgery, her heart would not have survived. But because she’d gone through it, she was healed.

“Breeanne,” Mom said. “Is there something you need to tell us?”

Looking into her parents’ troubled faces stirred up guilt—guilt that she’d moved out, guilt that she’d abandoned the bookstore, guilt that she felt so trapped by the love of the family that had sacrificed so much for her.

A family she had not been born into, but rather a family that had chosen her and loved her unconditionally when her birth mother had abandoned her, a family that had stuck by her through health crisis after health crisis that drained their money, time, and energy.

And now that she was healed, she was walking away from them. What an ungrateful child. They had never said such a thing to her. They didn’t have to. Her conscience shouldered all the blame.

Shame overcame her. As a child she’d loved fairy tales, and her favorite was Sleeping Beauty. Waiting for the kiss of a handsome prince to bring her to life. What the fairy tale had not addressed was what happened to Sleeping Beauty after her awakening? Happily-ever-after might work in fairy tales, but in reality waking up from a sleepwalking life caused upheaval.

And there was nothing fun about upheaval.

Secretly, she always feared that if she spoke her mind, didn’t go along with the agenda, or made waves, her parents would decide they’d made a mistake and send her back to the hospital. Abandoning her the same way her birth mother had because she was too much trouble.

In a flash of a second, all the feelings she’d suppressed since infancy rushed over her—anger, fear, hurt, shame, and despair. They battered her, first one emotion and then the other, until she fell all the way through them and came out the other end, empty and peaceful.

She looked at her parents’ worried faces, smiled softly, and said, “Mom, I can’t bring the seven-dip because I won’t be at the Fourth of July celebration. Suki can make it for Brent.”

Everyone spoke at once. Her father said, “Of course you’re coming to the party. It’s not a party without you.”

Mom put a hand to her forehead as if she’d suddenly acquired a splitting headache. “What are you doing for the holiday? Surely, you’re not working. You’ve already been pushing yourself too hard. We don’t see enough of you as it is.”

“Hey,” Suki protested. “Can you see me with GI Joe? I’m not going be Mom’s matchmaking stand-in. You’ve
got
to come.”

For a moment, the vestige of the old Breeanne kicked up a fuss. She loved them. How could she hurt them?
Back down. Smooth the waters. Assure them it was only a joke. Ha. Ha. You’ll be there.

She held up a palm, to quiet both the old Breeanne and her family. “I will be at the Dallas Gunslingers game with Rowdy on the Fourth. I hope you understand. This has nothing to do with you. It’s not my intention to hurt your feelings.”

“Honey, you’re with that man five days a week, eight hours a day,” her mother said. “Can’t you go to the game on another day?”

“Pass me the phone, Maggie. I’ll call Rowdy and get this straightened out.” Her father held out his hand. “I’m sure he’ll understand. We Carlyles have a Fourth of July tradition to uphold. Instead of going to the game, you can bring Rowdy to our party.”

She could explain about Zach being the starting pitcher, and try to convince them to get on board with her decision, but that would still be trying to smooth ruffled feathers, placate them because she had decided to please herself for once.

“Family, I love you so much. But I want to be with Rowdy. I want to go to the baseball game with him and I’m going.”

Everyone’s jaw dropped open.

“And yes, Mom, Beverly Crownover was right. I was kissing Rowdy in the back row at the movies. I’m young and single and responsible only for myself. I can kiss anyone I want.”

If a stranger had come walking into the store that moment and seen her family’s shocked, reddened faces, they might have assumed Breeanne had just slapped them all.

Everyone fell silent. Cemetery silent. As if at any moment a backhoe would appear and start digging someone’s grave silent.

“Well?” Breeanne settled her hands on her hips, bracing herself for the fallout. “Anyone have anything to say?”

“What do you know?” Suki grinned like she was awarding Breeanne with a medal. “You finally grew a pair.”

“Honey,” her mother said. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Her father blinked. “You’re dating Blanton?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m dating Rowdy. I know he’s a good-time Charlie. I know he’s not the kind to ever settle down. I know he’s out of my league. I know it’s going to end badly. I know he’s going to drop-kick my heart. But this is what I want and I’m going to do it anyway. You let my sisters make their own mistakes, it’s time you let me do the same.”

Her parents looked at each other. Her mother whispered to her father, “I told you so.”

“You never know,” Suki said. “Have hope. You might just be the one who makes settling down worth it. There is that scarf, after all. It’s gotta mean something.”

“No, Suki. For once, I’m not living in the fantasy world of happily-ever-after. I know the truth. I accept the consequences.”

Her father scratched the back of his neck. Shifted his weight. Looked at a loss. “All right, Breeanne, as long as you understand what you’re getting into.”

“Really?” Asserting her independence had been that easy, and that impossibly hard. But she’d done it. Made it through. Overcame her deeply ingrained fear that if she spoke her mind, her parents would no longer feel the same way about her. She let out a deep exhale. Smiled gratefully. “I do love you so much.”

“And we love you.” Dad hugged her.

Her mother nodded. “Much as we’d love to keep you our baby forever, apparently we’ve been stunting your growth. Go ahead.” She shooed her. “Spread your wings, and fly. We’ll always be right here cheering you on.”

 

CHAPTER
22

Us ballplayers do things backward.
First we play, then we retire and go to work.

C
HARLIE
G
EHRINGER

It was a typical Fourth of July in Texas, hot and muggy.

Thankfully, it was an evening game. They arrived at the stadium at six-thirty for the seven o’clock start. The air smelled of hot dogs, peanuts, popcorn, and beer. Kids carried giant foam fingers and waved miniature flags emblazoned with the Gunslingers logo. Mothers carried diaper bags and pushed strollers. Fathers hoisted little ones on their shoulders. Teenagers horsed around, wrestling, fake punching, and goosing one another.

She wore a white ruffled sleeveless blouse, with the cheetah scarf knotted at her neck, and a pair of brown shorts much shorter than she ever dared wear. Rowdy rewarded her with frequent appreciative glances at her legs. She might not be a beauty, but she did have good legs.

Rowdy leaned over and nuzzled her neck. When she turned into him, he kissed her, hard, and she cupped his cheek with her palm and kissed him back, tumbling into the same fiery, dazzling surge she dropped into every time he kissed her, so glad to be touching him, to have his hand hitched through her hair, to be with this man who made her feel as soft and sensual as the cheetah scarf at her throat. When he finally broke the kiss, she stayed close to him, not ready to separate.

Rowdy grinned like a god, and she relaxed, knowing the day was going to be perfect. How could it not be when they were together on her favorite holiday, and next week started their first day of third base. She shivered just thinking about it.

“Excited?”

“Uh-huh.”
You have no idea.

Spirits were high, the Gunslingers had been on a winning streak, and they stood in the will-call line listening to pennant race buzz.

“Gunslingers are going all the way this year,” said one college jock in line behind them to his buddy. “Feel it in my bones. This is our time in the sun.”

“Way too early in the season for speculation,” Rowdy murmured to Breeanne. He wore sunglasses and a baseball cap pulled down low, and he’d shaved his scruff of beard in hopes of avoiding recognition.

She loved his clean-shaven look, and couldn’t get enough of running her palm along his smooth jawline.

“Heard the manager is starting Zach Blanton. I don’t see the wisdom in that. Zach ain’t got the pitchin’ arm his brother did,” replied the jock’s buddy.

“We sure lost something special when Rowdy got busted up by that jealous husband,” the jock replied. “Too damn bad the dumb sonofabitch couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

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