Pitcher's Baby (9 page)

“Hello? This is Wendy. Can I help you?”
She says into the mouthpiece. I don't know who is on the other end or what they
say to her, but her hand flies to her mouth as her eyes fill with tears. “Oh my
God! No. No. She is fine. She is right here. Hold on.” She says and then passes
me the phone. I take it from her and press it to my ear, but I don't speak.
Mike has his arms wrapped around Wendy as she sobs into his chest.

“Charlee. Listen to me. If you are in any
danger right now, I want you to say yes. Just yes.” My dad's voice instructs
me. I don't answer. I'm not in any danger and I don't want him to think that.
After a second, he breathes a sigh of relief.

“My God, Charlee. You scared me to death.
I'm gonna bring you home now, baby girl. I love you.”

“I love you too, Daddy.” The tears have
started flowing again, and I sniffle, trying to control them.

“Pass the phone back to one of the adults
now, baby. I promise, I will see you soon,” he says, and I obey without another
word. I'm still worried about getting in trouble by Mike or Wendy and avoid
both of their gazes. Mike accepts the phone from me and walks to the kitchen,
still talking to my dad on the phone. Wendy comes and sits next to me on the
couch and pulls me to her. She starts brushing my hair from my face while
rubbing circles along my back.

“I'm so, so sorry, honey. I had no idea.”
I feel her body shaking with the sobs she is trying to control. “Is it true,
Charlee?” She asks, pulling back from me, and I have no idea what she is asking,
but I shake my head yes anyway. “Oh my God. We are going to get you back home,
but we have to hurry, okay, princess?”

I've
been thinking about how our date is going to end since we left the zoo. Lucas
offers to take me out to eat, but I ask for Chick-fil-A instead
. What can I
say? I'm a chicken addict. Don't judge.
We eat in the car on the drive
home. It’s peaceful and relaxing, but I still can’t get my mind to shut off. The
sun is setting across the western horizon, casting its vibrant orange and pink
tones across the sky. It’s a beautiful setting to end a beautiful day. I should
have been able to enjoy it. A normal person would have, but all I kept thinking
was . . .
it’s a lie. I am a lie
. And when he finds out who the real me
is, he is going to run away. They always run away.

End it now.

Maybe I should. What is the point in
continuing something that has an obvious expiration date on it? Oh, I can
probably hide the real me for a little while, but somehow, she always manages
to eventually escape, and when he meets her, he won't stay. Even if he wanted
to, I wouldn't let him. I never do. I can't stand to see the pity or disgust in
the eyes of people around me. Anytime someone got close to me, I would push
them away. Except for Ashlin. She refuses to budge. She is my safe person. My
light.

We don't talk much on the drive home,
choosing to listen to music on the radio instead. It's not uncomfortable, the
silence in the car. His hand is wrapped around mine, and occasionally, his
thumb will stroke the top of my palm or along my thumb, sending chills dancing
along my spine.
I wonder if he’s going to try to kiss me? I wonder if I'll
let him.
Oh, who am I kidding? I will let him. Oh, God! Will I let him? My
body craves it. The softness of his lips against mine, the hardness of his body
pressed along mine. I sneak a look at him every chance I get, loving the way
his jaw ticks as he focuses on the road ahead. His head bobs to the music as
his hand taps along on the steering wheel. Its mesmerizing, watching him.

He glances over, catching me staring at
him, and I quickly turn my head away, causing him to laugh. That sound. My God.
Is there anything sexier in this entire universe?

Breathe, Charlee.

Breathe.

We pull up to the front of the house, and
he runs around to my side of the car, opening the door for me. It’s really
sweet. Unnecessary, but sweet. I like that he takes the time to treat me like a
queen. I thought this breed of gentleman died out in the eighteenth century,
but clearly, I was mistaken, not that it matters. I have to end this before it
turns into something more. If it hasn't already. My heart aches when I think of
never seeing him again.

We can do this.

I can hide her from him.

No, you can't,
my
monster whispers.

He takes my hand, helping me from the car,
and then grabs Everly from the backseat and walks with his hand on the small of
my back up to my front door. When we reach the top of the landing, I turn to
him and take Everly and her bag and continue down the hall to my room. I don’t
know how to end this day. It’s been so perfect, and I’m afraid of saying or
doing the wrong thing and ruining it all.

“Lucas, I need you to trust me.” I repeat
his words from earlier back to him, causing him to smile. “I need you to close
your eyes for me,” I say as we reach my door.

“Okay.”

He closes his eyes tightly, just the way I
did earlier today. I stand there staring at him, taking in the way his jaw
curves seductively as it connects to his cheek bones. The soft texture of his
full lips. I lean forward. There is only a slip of air between his mouth and
mine. I close the distance slowly. Then I kiss him softly, barely caressing my
lips along the length of his bottom lip. His breath catches in his throat as
sparks of passion erupt between us like fireworks on the fourth of July. Still,
he doesn't move, instead allowing me to do what I want, sensing that this is
something I need from him. It's alarming. It's intriguing. I want more, but no.
I can't.

I pull away from him before his eyes open,
before I lose myself in the feel of his lips completely. I can't let that
happen . . . not yet. I have quite a lot to think about before then. A part of
me wonders if it may already be too late. This man has slipped past all my
barriers. He climbed the wall surrounding my heart and nestled himself up
against it without me ever realizing it.

I tear myself away. It takes everything
inside of me to turn from him, but I do it. Not for me. I couldn't walk away for
myself. I am much too selfish for that. No, I walk away for him. He doesn't
deserve someone so broken. He deserves more. Much more. I slip through my door
without him noticing. It clicks shut quietly, and then I allow myself twenty
seconds to catch my breath. Twenty seconds to talk myself out of snatching the
door back open and wrapping my arms around him. Twenty measly seconds, and then
I pull my phone from my pocket and text him. I know he will know it’s from me
when he hears the tone he has assigned to my name. I heard it earlier today
when I sent him the pictures I took at the zoo.

Me
: Open them.

I hear purple rain play on the other side
of the door, and moments later, I hear the ding of my own phone.

Lucas
: I've never felt
something more beautiful in my life. The kiss of an angel. Thank you for a
beautiful day.

I don't know how to reply. I mean, what do
you say when a guy compares your kiss to an angel? Sheesh.

Me
: I did too. Thank you
for sharing your favorite place with me.

Lucas
: Anytime.

Chapter Fifteen

Charlee

Gazing out of my bedroom window, I watch
as a yellow butterfly darts back and forth along the brick wall, searching for
a place to land. I don't know how long I have been sitting here staring at
nothing.

At everything.

I had the best day of my life today, and I
know I should be happy. I should be ecstatic, but all I feel is
numb.

Empty.

I understand the emotions that I should
feel. I even know how to pretend to have them, but I don't know how to push the
numbness away so that I can
feel
them.

I had a glimpse of what it would be like
to be happy earlier today. When I was at the zoo. It was almost like I was someone
else. I wish I could be that person.
I want to be her
. My body aches
with a bone-deep loneliness. Today, I had fun, and for most of the time, I
didn't even have to pretend, but all too soon, it came to an end. I barely made
it on the other side of the door before the crushing weight of despair hit me
in the chest. Before my sweet monster whispered in my ear, telling me all the
truths I don’t want to hear.

He doesn't really like you.

He just feels sorry for you.

He won't ask again.

You're worthless.

 No one wants you.

I curl into a ball and let the thoughts
flow over me. She is right. No one would ever want someone like me. I am
pathetic.
And
worthless.
Damaged.

Broken.

Yes, my monster is right. I am
broken
.
I always will be. My mother didn't want me. My father didn't want me. My
brother smokes dope and drowns his sorrows in liquor so he doesn't have to deal
with me anymore. Sometimes, in the darkest of the night, I pray that God will
take me away. He doesn't.

Even God doesn't want me.

No one does.

I hear my bedroom door open, and Lucas
walks in. He throws his keys on the desk. I forgot to put my keys in the bowl
when I got home. Just another thing to add to the list of shit I fuck up. I can
hear his soft breathing from the doorway. He flicks on the light overhead and
then flicks it back off. I curl tighter, praying he won't see me. That he will
just leave me be.

Go away, Lucas

Don't go, Lucas.

God, why didn't I just crawl in the bed
when I came in? At least then, I could pretend to be asleep.

Because you're stupid.

Yeah, maybe I am.

“Charlee? Come here, babe.” Lucas pulls
gently on my shoulder, drawing me to him. I go, because I can't say no. I crave
the comfort, even while I tell myself I don't deserve it.

This isn't the first time someone has seen
me break down. Even if I don’t have tears flowing down my cheeks, I am still a
mess, and I am sure it won't be the last time. I have tried to tell him he
doesn't want to be my friend. Hell, I don't even like me. How can I expect
someone else to? He doesn't listen though.

Thank God.

“What happened? Do I need to break out my
baseball bat or the cookies and milk?” he asks, and I shake my head no.

“Okay, no baseball bat.” A small chuckle
escapes me. I don't know where it comes from. It just bubbles up from within
me, betraying me with its light tinkle.

“Here. Eat some cookies and milk and talk
to me. I know you don't want to, but we both know it helps.”

I grab a cookie and dip it in the glass of
milk. I don't drink milk. It upsets my stomach, but I can't eat cookies unless
I dip them in it. Most people would prefer to have a glass of wine or a beer
right now, but I learned a long time ago that alcohol would not help any
problem. It usually just made it a hell of a lot worse, especially for someone
who suffers from depression. Since alcohol is a natural depressant, it's a big
no-no for me.

“What’s wrong, Charlee?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. Every single night I’m home,
I lie in that bed across the hall, and I listen to you, and it tears me to
pieces. I don’t know what’s hurting you, baby, but I am here for you. No matter
what. I don’t care if that means you need me as a friend or more. Whatever you
need, I am here.”

“Thank you. I just don’t know what to do
with it all sometimes. It builds up inside of me until it can’t anymore, and
the only way to let it out is to cry.”

“I understand that, baby. I do, but let me
help you before it builds up. Before it becomes so much that you feel the need
to cry.”

“I’ll try, Lucas. I can’t promise you
anything, but I will try.”

“That’s all I ask,” he says before kissing
me against me on my head and leaving me to get some much-needed rest. Tomorrow,
he will be at the field all day, and Ill be alone with Everly, but that’s okay.
I like my solitude. Sometimes, I even crave it.

Sunday comes and goes in a blur of last-minute
preparations for the first day of my individualized photography class. These
classes are smaller. Only around thirty people got in, and in order to even
qualify, you had to have passed the first part of the class with a
B
average or above.

I didn’t see Lucas at all today, but he
did text me.

Once.

To let me know that he was thinking of me,
and he hoped I was thinking of him as well. I replied that I was, and then I
didn't hear from him again. I thought of texting him back again later that
afternoon, but I didn't want to come across as needy or pushy, so I turned my
phone off and stuck it in the desk drawer.

I pulled it out twenty minutes later and
powered it back on, hoping he had texted, but he hadn't, so I turned it off
again. I did that at least a dozen times before I gave up and just left it on.
I mean, what’s the point in turning it off, really? Finally, around seven, I
put Everly down for bed and get ready for bed myself.

I shower and yawn as I pull the comforter
up close, but the moment the lights are out, my mind awakens. I lie in the bed
for hours, thinking over everything I did. Everything I said Saturday.
Wondering where I screwed up. Because that's what had to happen. Why else is he
not calling? What other reason is there?

Loneliness is my friend at night, when the
darkness creeps in and the looming pain of emptiness fills my every crevice. It’s
times like this when I realize that it’s pointless. It's pointless to try
anymore, because I have already lost myself completely. Its three am and I have
lost the ability to sleep, and I can't even cry over the loss because I don't
even care.

The alarm goes off sometime later, and I
realize I must have finally fallen asleep. I slap at the
snooze
button
before crawling from the bed and getting ready for my first day of school.
Walking out the front door, I hear my phone ding, and then a smile stretches
across my face when I see his name.

Lucas:
Good morning,
beautiful. Have a great day.

I
tuck it back into my pocket, deciding to wait before I text back. Today is
going to be a good day. I can feel it.

The first part of the day flies by, and
before I know it, it's time for lunch. I head to the yogurt bar, where I told
Ashlin I would meet her. I see her sitting at a round table with two others
girls when I walk in, so I grab an apple and a cheese stick and go join them.

“Charlee! Hey, this is Anna and this is
Britney. We met in Art this morning.”

“Hi.” I wave while biting into my apple. I
am not usually the type of girl who belongs to big groups of friends, so I
don't really know what to say. Luckily, they seem to be happy to chat amongst themselves
and ignore me and Ashlin for the most part.

“So. Have you heard from Mr. Bouchard?”
Ashlin asks.

“Yea. He texted me this morning, but I
haven't replied yet,” I tell her and pull out my phone to text him when blondie
number one interrupts.

“Lucas? You know Lucas Bouchard?” she
asks.

“Um, yeah.” I reply cautiously.

“Oh that is so cool! Have you met Kirsten?
I heard she is so freaking awesome, but she doesn't live here anymore. Not
since she had the baby.” I feel the blood rush from my head. My heart starts
beating frantically. I wipe my hand repeatedly on my jeans while I try to
muster the will to ask who is Kirsten is.

“Who’s Kirsten?” Ashlin beats me to it,
and a second later, I wish she never would have asked. I wish I could go back
in time ten seconds and just get up and leave the table. I didn't want to know.
Really, I didn't. I knew. I just knew it was too good to be true.

“Uh, his wife? Duh. They have been married
for like five years now? Right, Britney?”

“Yea, about that. She had the baby like
two years ago, in November,” Britney said.

The pounding in my ears is blocking out
all other noise. I can't hear Britney or Anna anymore. I see Ashlin's lips
moving. She’s asking if I’m all right.

No.

No, I am not.

He travels around the country for
baseball. He’s always been so fucking good with Everly. He didn't mention a
baby. Or a wife, but it's possible.

It makes sense.

It makes no sense.

Fucking idiot.

Stupid, stupid girl.

I stand. The floor is spinning in a
million circles, and all I want is to lie down and wait for it to quit moving, but
Britney and Anna are sitting there staring at me like I’m some kind of carnival
attraction. I have to get out of here. I think I say it out loud, but I'm not
sure. I turn the way I think I came in, and I run. I don't look back to see if
Ashlin is following me. I can't stop. I run as fast as I can through the halls to
the nursery. Taking the time to place Everly in her car seat and to walk down
the stairs, across the courtyard to the parking lot takes everything I have in
me. Finally, I throw the door open to my room and fall into my bed. I bury my
face deep in the covers, and for the first time in over a year, I cry.

And cry

and cry

and cry.

The tears won't stop.

Falling...

Falling...

Falling...

Drowning
me.

Suffocating
me.

Destroying
me.

I should have known. I should have guessed
it. I'm not allowed to be
happy.

I'm not allowed to
feel
.

And boy, did I feel it.

I felt it all.

Every moment.

Every word.   

Every
touch.

                                    EVERY.

                                                SINGLE.

                                                            ONE.

I still feel them.

Let it go
,
she whispers lovingly.

I let it go.