Sweet Tea at Sunrise (12 page)

“Cal Maddox and I have started a Little League program in town. It was just a couple of teams last year, but there were so many kids who turned out this spring, we really want to add more teams so all the kids will
have a chance to play a fair amount instead of warming the bench half the time.”

“And you want me to coach one of them,” Travis guessed.

“If you’re willing and have the time,” Tom confirmed. “You’d be great at it. And it would give you another way to become a part of the community. What do you think?”

“Count me in,” he said at once, immediately excited by the idea. “The radio station can sponsor the team, too. It’ll be good PR.”

“We haven’t actually had sponsors so far,” Tom admitted. “Cal and I have just picked up the financial slack when it comes to uniforms and equipment.”

Travis frowned. “Well, I could do that, too, but it seems to me it increases community involvement to have businesses participate. That’s the way it worked back home,” he reminded his cousin. “How about I try to find a few other sponsors? How many teams are we talking about? Four? Six?”

“Let’s say four for the rest of this season,” Tom told him. “You sure you want to take on trying to drum up sponsors, when you’re trying to get a new business on solid ground?”

“I’m out soliciting for advertising, anyway,” Travis said with a shrug. “I can always offer a package deal…ads on the radio station in return for team sponsorship. It’ll be an introductory win-win all around.”

Tom regarded him with surprise. “You might have a knack for the whole broadcasting thing, after all. You’re actually thinking like a smart, creative businessman.”

Travis grinned. “Thanks for the grudging support.”

“You know I support you. I just thought you were taking on too much in an area in which you had absolutely no experience.”

Travis’s grin spread. “Do you actually know what my degree is in?”

Tom looked flustered by the question. “No. I figured physical education, maybe. Wasn’t that the plan when you left for college?”

“Sorry, pal. It was always broadcast journalism. I thought if my name got big enough, I could wind up calling games on TV once I retired. I even did a couple of nights on the air with the team’s local radio guys in Boston when I was out with a sprained wrist last season.”

Tom appeared to be genuinely impressed. “Well, why on earth didn’t you pursue that when the Red Sox let you go?”

Travis shrugged. “I thought about it, but then I realized I’d be on the road constantly and a part of me wanted more than that. I love the game, but I hated sleeping in hotel rooms night after night, not even knowing where I was half the time. I wanted a place to call home. To be honest, it surprised the heck out of me that I felt that way. I hadn’t been here with you more than a week when I realized I’d found it. And once the radio deal started to fall into place, well, it seemed like fate.”

“Who knew?” Tom said, his expression still disbelieving. “Okay, then, you’ll find the sponsors for our teams and take on coaching the older kids. You’ll be a real role model for them.”

“Who’s been coaching the older kids up till now?”

“Cal.”

“Then he should keep doing it,” Travis insisted. “I’d like to take on the little kids, teach ’em to love the game along with working on the basic skills. That’s what’s lacking for too many of these kids. They get into sports because their dads are trying to relive some childhood fantasy. They never get to play just for fun.”

Tom shook his head. “You’re just full of surprises. It’s okay with me. I’ll run it by Cal.”

“That only gives you three teams, though. Who’s going to take over the fourth?”

“Cal’s trying to get Ronnie Sullivan to do it, but he has to ease him into the idea. Ronnie’s business has taken off, and he likes being available in case Dana Sue needs him to pitch in at Sullivan’s. Cal’s had him helping out regularly, and he figures in another week, he can point out that Ronnie’s at the ballfield all the time anyway, so why not just take on his own team?”

“Smooth,” Travis said approvingly.

“Once he says yes, we can schedule more games,” Tom said. “There are half a dozen teams in neighboring towns in each age bracket.”

Travis thought of Sarah’s little boy. Just four, he was a little unsteady on his feet, but in Dana Sue’s yard on the Fourth of July, Travis had seen his enthusiasm for throwing a ball around and even swinging some lightweight little bat someone had given him.

“What about T-ball?” he asked. “Maybe I could organize a couple of teams for that, too. We’d just need a few dads to keep order, since they’re not exactly going to be skilled players at that age.”

To his surprise, his cousin regarded him with imme
diate suspicion. “Any particular reason you’d want to do that? It wouldn’t have anything to do with Sarah Price’s boy, would it?”

“What if it does?” he responded defensively.

“Don’t play games with her,” Tom warned. “And you definitely don’t want to involve her children in them, especially if you even think you could wake up one morning and decide Serenity’s not for you.”

“An ironic thing to say coming from a man who’d once intended to use this town as a stepping-stone to bigger and better things,” Travis said testily. “Look, the only game I’m interested in is T-ball. I told you I knew right away I wanted to settle down here, and I meant it.”

Tom still looked worried. “And Sarah’s part of that?”

Travis nodded slowly. “It’s entirely possible that she could be.”

“Well, all I can say is be careful, because if you do anything to hurt that woman, you’ll be dealing with the wrath of the Sweet Magnolias.”

“Trust me, I’ve already had one brush with them.” Travis described the fallout from the kiss. Tom was chuckling by the time he’d finished reciting all the different angles they’d used to come after him.

“Then you obviously know they’re the most loyal, intimidating group of women on the planet,” Tom said. “I’m married to one of them, but only because there was consensus from the group that I passed muster. Like I said, you don’t want to mess with them, okay?”

Tom sounded so serious, Travis had to fight the desire to laugh. Then he thought of the evidence he’d seen of Jeanette’s fiercely protective streak, Annie’s guard-dog belligerence and the way Helen had threat
ened him with a sexual harassment suit, and it wiped even the faint beginning of a smile from his face.

He supposed the good part of what Tom was telling him was the confirmation that Sarah really did have fiercely protective backup. From what he’d been hearing about her marriage and what he’d seen of her skittishness around him, she needed it. He felt better knowing she had women who were there for her. He’d always had male friends, guys he hung out with, and some—like Tom—to whom he could tell anything. He understood the importance of friendships.

In the case of the Sweet Magnolias, he just had to make sure he didn’t do anything more to tick them off.

S
arah was starting to settle into a routine at work. Once she was off the air, she’d have a quick lunch, which was sometimes supplied by Travis along with a few flirtatious remarks that she basically ignored. Then she made phone calls to schedule guests for upcoming shows. If there was time after that before she needed to be home, she’d make a few calls to potential sponsors or straighten out the office. Or she’d update the master schedule she’d created on a giant erasable board so that she, Travis and Bill weren’t approaching the same potential guests or advertisers.

For a woman whose household was generally chaotic, discovering that she could keep things at the station on track had been a revelation. Certainly Travis didn’t bother with details. Bill was better, but he had less to organize. Used to years of being on the air alone and simply talking to listeners, he didn’t book a lot of guests. Nor was he covering more than a handful of accounts.

Sarah had also taken Travis at his word and called regular staff meetings for the three of them so they
could plan shows and brainstorm ideas. She’d even pestered Travis to buy a file cabinet so they could keep neat folders on their advertisers. Of course, the folder for accounts Travis handled tended to be stuffed with Post-its, while Sarah’s held detailed notes and even scripts for the commercials she or one of the others recorded.

She was alphabetizing files after Travis had haphazardly stuffed things back into a drawer, when he came up behind her. He didn’t have to say a word. Her whole body went on high alert the second he even walked into a room. The faint citrus scent that lingered on his skin after shaving was like an aphrodisiac. She automatically wanted to turn and bury her face in his neck and breathe deeply.

“Can I help you?” she asked without turning around.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said. “Let’s take a break and go get some coffee.”

“I don’t have time for a break,” she said automatically. Turning him down for the most innocuous things had gotten to be second nature. It made it easier to say no when he tossed in a request for anything that sounded remotely like a date.

“I don’t think I asked if you had time,” he said testily.

She did turn then and frowned at him. “Travis McDonald, are you ordering me to take a break?”

He returned her challenging look. “Why, yes, I believe I am.”

She might have argued with the man, but she knew better than to fight with him when he was in this particular mood. He rarely pulled rank on her, but when he did, she found it exasperating. Most of the time she
believed they worked as partners. Maybe not financial partners, but two people who were attuned to anything that was good for the station. She basked in the respect he showed for her opinions. That meant more than the flattery he doled out without thinking.

Despite her annoyance, she forced herself to respond with indifference. “Okay, then. You’re the boss.”

“Wharton’s okay?” he asked, obviously still miffed.

“If that’s where you want to go.”

He gave her an equally exasperated look. “Are you planning to be a pain in the butt while we’re there?”

“I believe I am.”

He shook his head. “Okay, then. This should be fun.”

They crossed the square in silence, Travis walking a few paces ahead of her as if he were some sort of royalty and she his subservient minion. Trotting to keep pace, though, would only make her feel more foolish, so she deliberately dawdled. If it hadn’t been against the law to pick the flowers on the green, she’d have paused to do just that.

At Wharton’s, he held the door until she got there, then walked to the closest booth and sat down. Sarah slid in across from him, then folded her hands primly on top of the table and waited.

“Are you trying to tick me off?” he asked. “You look like a kid who’s waiting outside the principal’s office expecting to be punished.”

“Really? I thought I was behaving like a dutiful employee, eagerly awaiting the word from on high.”

His scowl deepened. “What is wrong with you?”

She sucked in a deep breath, then decided to tell the truth. “I don’t like your attitude.”

“Since when?”

“Since about fifteen minutes ago, when you started treating me like some low-level employee you get to order around just because you’re in a snit.”

“I hate to tell you, but I’m having trouble keeping it straight. How am I supposed to treat you?”

“Not like this.”

“And not like a woman I’m attracted to,” he countered.

“Yes, not like that.” She actually understood a little of his frustration. She got confused from time to time herself. Finally she said wistfully, “How about friends? Couldn’t we act like friends and coworkers who respect each other?”

His expression softened. “You mean instead of me trying to bulldoze over you or seduce you, depending on my mood?”

She allowed herself a smile. “Yes, that would be an improvement.”

“Okay, I’ll try,” he promised. “To be honest, I’m not used to having to sort through all these tricky dynamics. Most of my relationships have been pretty straightforward. I played ball with—and for—a bunch of men. Believe me, I didn’t want to sleep with any of them. I dated a lot of high-profile women who wanted to sleep with me. The distinctions were pretty clear-cut.”

“None of those women were friends?”

“Not a one.”

“That’s sad.”

He shrugged. “Probably, but it worked out fine for me at the time.”

“Maybe we should agree that we both need to be more patient when the lines get a little blurry,” she suggested.

“Or we could agree to sleep together and get that out of the way,” he countered, his expression boyishly hopeful.

Despite herself, Sarah couldn’t help laughing. “Not in the cards.” It was so easy for her to say that when he was being deliberately outrageous. Had he looked for even an instant as if he’d meant it, she wasn’t sure she could have laughed off the suggestion.

“You’re tough.”

She was surprisingly pleased by the comment. No one had ever thought she was tough before. She’d mostly been a pushover. “Thank you. Now what is this very important meeting all about?”

He stared at her blankly, then shook his head. “I have no idea.”

“You have no idea,” she repeated slowly. She regarded him incredulously.

He shrugged. “I just wanted a few minutes alone with you and all of a sudden it turned into this big deal,” he admitted, looking sheepish. “Sorry. If you need to get home, go ahead.”

She probably should have done exactly that, but suddenly she didn’t want to. Instead, she frowned at him. “You have to be kidding me. After all this, the least you can do is to buy me a burger and fries.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I believe I’d like a chocolate milk shake, too.”

“I can do that,” he agreed at once. He signaled to the teen who’d replaced Sarah as a part-time waitress and
placed the order, then turned back to Sarah. “We’re okay?”

“We’re okay,” she confirmed.

In fact, if they were any more okay, she’d be dragging him straight home to bed, which was exactly why she needed to keep little outings like this to a minimum.

Travis hadn’t been over to Charleston to see his folks since being released by the Red Sox. The frequent phone calls, especially from his mother, had been awkward enough. Lately, though, they’d taken on an unexpected tone of urgency. When his mother insisted he drive over on the weekend for lunch, he finally acquiesced. Clearly there was something on her mind.

Since he couldn’t see her without fitting in a visit with his father, he made arrangements to meet him for dinner. It promised to be a fun-filled Sunday, he thought sarcastically as he reluctantly headed across the state.

After the divorce, his mother had moved into a condo that required less upkeep than the house she’d always despised. After years of living with McDonald family heirlooms, she’d fought tradition and decorated with a clean, modern look that left Travis cold, but somehow suited her sophisticated style. Rather than the massive flower arrangements they’d always had at home, she accented rooms with a single, dramatic bird of paradise in a heavy crystal vase, or a few tulips artfully arranged in a bouquet.

When he arrived, she welcomed him with a kiss on the cheek.

“We’ll eat right away,” she said, leading the way
directly to the dining room, where the table had been set for two. “I know you’re having an early dinner with your father, and I wouldn’t want to hold you up.”

Travis flushed. “Sorry, but I could only get away for the day. The radio station is taking up a lot of time, even when I’m not on the air.”

“And I want to hear all about it,” she said, though she didn’t sound particularly eager. Mostly, she sounded distracted, and oddly upset.

“Mother, what’s on your mind? Let’s deal with that first. Maybe then you’ll be able to enjoy your meal and actually listen to anything I have to say.”

She looked faintly embarrassed, but she didn’t deny that her mind was elsewhere. “There
is
something you need to know,” she said.

She sounded so somber, his gut twisted into a knot. Was she about to tell him she was ill? Or, God forbid, dying? “Mom, are you okay?” he asked worriedly. He might not be the most attentive son in the world, but he did love her.

She looked startled by the question. “Me? I’m fine. It’s your father.”

Travis was puzzled. His father had sounded particularly exuberant on the phone. “He’s not sick, is he?”

“Not unless you count losing his mind as being sick,” she said bitterly. “You need to be prepared for tonight.”

“Why? Did he get a bad toupee or something?” His father had been unapologetically bald as far back as Travis could remember, even before the style had become popularized by younger male celebrities shaving their heads.

“Worse,” she said. “He’s gotten engaged.”

The news wasn’t half as shocking as her reaction to it. “And you don’t approve,” he surmised.

“No one approves.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s engaged to Mimsy Phelps’s daughter, that’s why.”

Travis didn’t even try to hide his dismay. “Trina? Dad is engaged to Trina Phelps? She’s my age.”

“A year younger, actually. I suspect tonight’s dinner is all about you breaking bread with the happy bride-to-be and giving the couple your blessing.”

“My God,” Travis murmured. “Does Dad know that I used to date Trina?”

“It may have slipped his mind,” she said. “But I doubt it. He seems to be in a particularly rebellious mood these days.”

“Is this some kind of midlife crisis or something?” Travis asked, though he knew better. His father had always pushed the limits when it came to women. The more inappropriate the relationship, the better. Marriage hadn’t stopped him. Divorce had only given him license to take his philandering ways more public.

Across the glass-topped dining room table, his mother set down her sterling silver fork—one of the few treasured heirlooms she’d kept—and looked him in the eye, her expression earnest. “You have to stop him.”

“Me? When has Dad ever listened to me about anything? And how am I supposed to discuss this with him if he brings Trina along to dinner?”

“I’m sure you can make him see how wrong this is, even if she’s there. Appeal to her good nature, if nothing else. Heck, seduce her yourself. You found her attractive enough once upon a time.”

“Mother!”

“Well, something has to be done. and I’m at my wit’s end. He won’t listen to a word I say.”

Though it should have gone without saying this many years after their divorce, Travis felt compelled to point out, “Dad is no longer your problem.”

“Technically, no, but God help me, I’ve always had a soft spot for him. It pains me to see him acting like a fool. The whole town is talking about this. If it were just some passing whim, that might be one thing, but marriage? It’s absurd!”

For all of its growth in recent years, Charleston essentially remained a small town when it came to a certain social set. The McDonalds had their place and, despite the long-ago divorce, what his father did might still reflect badly on his mother. At the very least, Travis could see how it would cause her embarrassment.

“I’ll do my best, Mom, but don’t expect miracles. Dad’s done whatever he wanted for a long time now.”

“Well, this girl is going to take him for every penny he has, if he’s not careful,” she declared. “You mark my words. Why else would she be with him?”

“Maybe for the same reason you once were,” he said carefully. “Maybe she really does love him.”

“Oh, hogwash!” she said dismissively.

“I can’t believe it’s about money,” he said. “Doesn’t her family have buckets of it?”

“Not since the recession came close to wiping them out. The word at the club is that Mimsy’s broker invested in some very bad things, then took off to God knows where. I doubt they’re poor as church mice, but they don’t have the unlimited resources they once did.”

“And Dad does?” He had no idea what his father’s
net worth might be these days. He’d always had a tendency to act as if money grew on trees.

“For all of his profligate ways, yes. He’s smart when it comes to financial matters, and nobody’s going to push him into bad investments.”

Travis was beginning to see why she thought there might be a problem. He just had no idea what he could do about it. “Mom, he isn’t going to appreciate either of us meddling in his life.”

“I don’t give two hoots whether he appreciates it,” she said fiercely. “Fix this, Travis. I mean it. Otherwise, I’ll never be able to hold up my head in this town again.”

Travis tried to keep any hint of pity from his expression, but, truthfully, pity was what he felt. Because despite every humiliation, every angry word they’d exchanged and years of divorce, his mother was still as in love with his father as she had been on the day they’d wed. He even wondered if, on some level, she hadn’t always expected him to come back to her once he settled down and tired of chasing every pretty woman who crossed his path.

He gave his mother’s hand a quick squeeze and promised he’d do what he could, then deliberately changed the subject, telling her all about the radio station, singing Bill’s praises for all he’d done and mentioning Sarah only in passing.