No Matter What (The Billionaires of Sawgrass #4) - Delaney Cameron Page 0,88
the infield, his tall figure towering over the three boys trying to keep pace with his long strides. It was difficult to see his face since he wore a baseball cap and dark sunglasses, but there was no hiding the tan muscular arms and legs not covered by his t-shirt and shorts.
Was that Coach Gibson? A reluctant smile pulled at her mouth. She’d gone to her share of little league games over the years. She didn’t remember any of the coaches looking like this.
After admonishing the three boys to get bats and helmets, the man strolled over to where Jordan and Coach Tillerson stood waiting by the fence. Julie watched as the introductions were made and felt a tinge of admiration for the way Coach Gibson shook Jordan’s hand and spent a few minutes talking to him. Whatever he said brought a smile to the boy’s rather solemn features before Jordan took off running to join the others in the outfield.
The two men conversed for a minute before separating; Coach Tillerson to home plate and Coach Gibson to the pitching mound. It was nonstop for the next two hours. Julie spent the time pacing back and forth trying to ignore the persistent ache in her legs caused by not being able to sit down. Relieved that her suffering was almost over, she walked over to the fence where Jordan was impatiently zipping up his bat bag.
“I bet you’re hungry now.”
He nodded. “We practice again tomorrow at six.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Julie saw Coach Gibson coming their way.
“You missed the parent meeting,” he said, stopping a few feet away. “If you could come a little early for practice tomorrow, say around five-thirty, I can fill you in on everything.”
Julie hid a smile at the absence of any type of introduction. Apparently, parents, or in this case, aunts weren’t high on this man’s list. That was fine with her. As long as Jordan was treated well, nothing else mattered. “Where should I meet you? Here?”
“The pavilion you passed on your way in would be better. I’m not sure what field we’ll get.”
“Sounds good. We’ll see you then.”
* * * * *
Eric put down the window for the drive home from the ballpark. Spring was by far his favorite time of year. Here in coastal Georgia, the cool breezes carried the salty tang of the ocean as well as the scent of honeysuckle. A weary sigh passed through his lips. He loved being back home, but it hadn’t done much to ease the pain in his heart.
Whoever had coined the phrase ‘broken hearts soon mend’ clearly had never experienced one. Eric had every hope that his heart would eventually mend, but the process was taking entirely too long. His descent from being on top of the world to lying face down in the dirt had happened with a speed he was still trying to come to grips with. It didn’t help that part of the reason for his fall was his own fault.
He shifted uneasily in the seat, not liking the trend of his thoughts. It didn’t do any good to keep looking back. Fixing the past wasn’t possible nor was he going to be granted a ‘do-over’. All he could do was try not to make the same mistake again.
Getting involved with little league had been one of his better decisions. It seemed obvious for someone with his background, and yet it had been his brother who suggested it. No doubt Eric would be hearing about that for months to come.
The season had barely begun, and already he felt his excitement starting to build. He had always been happiest on and around a baseball field. This was a chance to use his knowledge of the game to help others. The exuberance and boundless energy of the boys was infectious, reminding him of a time when life wasn’t so complicated.
Dealing with the parents was another matter. From the questions he was being asked and the helpful advice he was getting, Eric knew he had some challenges ahead. Managing all the conflicting parental expectations was probably going to be harder than the actual coaching. But even that daunting prospect didn’t make him regret taking this on.
He’d been surprised to get a call earlier in the day from the league president asking if he’d take another player. The sign-ups and try-outs had been over for two weeks. After meeting Jordan Evans, he was glad he’d agreed. What the boy lacked in skill, he more than made up with enthusiasm.
Eric made a mental note not to forget about his meeting with Jordan’s mom before practice tomorrow. He didn’t know what kind of parent she would turn out to be, but she sure did smell nice.
The sultry notes of “Only the Lonely” broke the silence. Eric picked up his phone and glanced at the screen. This was one customer he could do without.
“Hey, Myra.”
“Hi, Eric. I had a repairman at the house today fixing my air conditioner. Somehow he managed to damage one of the sprinkler heads in the yard.”
“No problem. I can swing by there tomorrow and take a look.”
“Do you know what time you’ll be coming? I need to show you where it is.”
Eric rolled his eyes. She could tell him the general area, and he could find it. But if she did that, she wouldn’t be able to walk around in front of him in a bikini that left little to the imagination. He was as appreciative as the next man of the female form, but he didn’t want to see it when he was trying to work or when the woman in question was very married.
“I’ll be there around four.” And he wouldn’t make the mistake of coming alone this time. He’d assumed that the passing of eleven years and the acquisition of a husband would have changed the girl he remembered from high school. If anything, she was worse.
How could two people view the past so differently? Eric wanted to forget those make-out sessions in the back of his car, most notably the night her father found them. That moment had stood out as his worst until another more recent event made it seem tame by comparison.
Myra, on the other hand, seemed determined to not only refresh his memory, but also to drop not-so-subtle hints that she wouldn’t mind picking up where they left off. She always made sure Eric knew the evenings her husband was working late or when he would be going out of town. There were only so many polite ways to say he wasn’t interested, and still she didn’t get it. What was he going to have to do? Have it printed on a t-shirt?
* * * * *
Julie put the spaghetti on the table next to a plate of garlic bread. For once Jordan needed no encouragement to eat. It was a relief to see him behaving so normally. He’d made no demur about taking a bath before their meal either.
The past few weeks had been hectic and challenging. Getting Jordan settled into her apartment, signing him up for school, and arranging for a neighbor to stay with him until she got home from work had been tasks she managed with her usual efficiency. The actual logistics of connecting with him and ensuring his happiness were still being worked out.
It all started when her brother arrived unannounced at close to midnight with Jordan in tow. She’d known he was due to be shipped overseas. What she hadn’t known was that Devon’s wife had walked out, leaving no one to care for Jordan. His tangled explanations for Megan’s extraordinary behavior made no sense to Julie, though he cited everything from depression to unhappiness with his pending deployment. To all of this she could only nod. In her mind, deserting a child wasn’t an option, even if he was your stepson and not your own flesh and blood.
Devon shipped out the next day, his date of return seven months in the future if all went well. And so here they were, single aunt and nephew, thrown together for better or worse for the foreseeable future. Nothing had been heard from Megan – no telephone calls to comfort a child who was confused as to how and why his life had suddenly taken such a dramatic turn.
Julie spent her days with preschoolers. Dealing with a boy this age was an entirely different kind of challenge, but using the patience that had won her the devotion of countless children and parents, she was beginning to see Jordan open up. And in those limited, but revealing conversations, his interest in baseball had emerged.
As she sat at the table, her hands tracing and cutting flowers to decorate her classroom walls, she wondered about the meeting tomorrow with the businesslike Coach Gibson. She had a feeling that Jordan’s new hobby was going to be more involved than she previously thought.
Read the rest of Eric and Julie’s story here.