Driving around earlier, I thought about going to the bank to try to salvage the house, but a quick drive past the property showed me how in disarray it was. The roof had caved in from the large oak tree in the front falling over. The same tree I’d fallen from while climbing it when I was ten and broke my collarbone.
Just thinking of that accident left my shoulder twinging. That was another tribulation I was going to need to deal with soon. I’d scheduled time with one of the team’s new sports medicine therapists to work on my shoulder for the upcoming season. I kept the prolonged aches and pains from my coach as long as I could, but he pulled me aside at the end of last season and requested I take care of it. Looking back, it wasn’t so much a request as it was a demand. The team had a lot of money invested in me.
“Yeah.”
Spinning around on my stool, I took in the crowd, noticing that the old bar filled up quickly. In my mental solitude, I’d ignored all the noise. It was a trick I learned on the field, a way to help me focus.
A group of women stood at a high-top table, and the second my eyes skimmed past them, they immediately started preening. One fluffed her hair, and another adjusted her top. The other three had their backs to me.
Running a hand through my own hair, I continued to take in the crowd, ignoring the women’s come-hither stares. I instantly regretted not wearing my ball cap. Though, most of the townspeople I grew up with knew me better with it on than off. But to this new crop of Ashfield dwellers, I was fresh blood… and a celebrity. Seemed Colton’s appeal had worn off.
“Shit,” I mumbled as a group of guys started approaching. I didn’t recognize any of them, but by the suits they wore, my guess was they worked for the bank or a law firm in town.
Unfortunately for them, I was not up for making new friends today—or, well, ever.
“Hey, man.”
“Hey,” I replied kindly, because the last thing I wanted to do was cause a PR nightmare. Thankfully, the bartender set the refreshed beer in front of me, giving me something to do with my hands and my mouth.
“You’re Owen Ramsey, right?” the shortest of the trio asked, his eyes lighting up in the process. As nice as it was to be amidst a fan, I was not in the right headspace to make a lot of conversation.
“I am,” I said, lifting the new glass and taking a sip of the amber lager.
“Wow. I knew you grew up here, but I never expected to see you in person. I’m a big fan.” He continued to list off some plays and data like he was reading directly from my stats sheet.
One of the other two men seemed interested as well, while the other looked off and winked at the women who had been vying for my attention not a full minute before. Out of the three, he was what most women would call handsome. He resembled someone from a cologne advertisement I’d seen in a magazine at the airport. His blond hair was slicked back, and he had an end-of-the-day shadow along his jawline.
While I’d been busy eyeing his friend, the man who’d been chatting my ear off asked a question that I missed. Thankfully, he let it slide when I apologized, and he repeated himself.
“Want to join us for a game of pool?”
The hope in his eyes almost had me caving, but I held strong. Sipping my drink again, I shook my head slowly.
“Sorry. I’m… uh… waiting for a friend,” I lied. For a split second, I thought about calling my old high-school buddy Chris, but I hadn’t spoken a word to him since graduation.
Truthfully, I hadn’t spoken a word to anyone since that day. I hadn’t been close enough to anyone in school to want to keep in contact. The one time I’d been home as my mom’s plus-one for a wedding I’d kept a low profile. It was easier. Safer.
“But maybe next time?” I added as the man’s eyebrows tilted downward in disappointment. His demeanor instantly changed, and the three of them made their way to the side room where some pool tables were set up.
With my admirer’s retreat, I spun to face the bar, turning my back to the crowd. I watched as the droplets of condensation raced down the side of the chilled beer glass. Two of them sped up, and I internally chose a winner, grinning when it reached the epoxy-coated bar top first.
From the corner of my eye, I watched as someone planted themselves on the barstool next to me. I really hoped it wasn’t another fan. As much as I appreciated them, I just wanted to sit in peace and have a drink or five. I’d figure out later how I was getting home.
A home that no longer existed.
The thought of sleeping in my car left me gulping the rest of my beer in one fell swoop.
“Never thought I’d see the day,” a rough but familiar voice said beside me, with a chuckle that wrapped around me like a tight embrace. I closed my eyes forcefully, relishing the sound.
Opening them in a flash, I spun on my stool, facing my guest with a grin that I usually reserved for myself. One of true happiness. “Coach Rudicell.”
That man had been my savior when I was growing up. Because of our small town, he was the coach for the recreational T-ball and baseball teams I was on, as well as the high school baseball coach. But not only had he been my mentor, he’d been the closest thing I had to a real father. The kind who cared about you and made sure you were doing all the right things.
I feared he knew what my home life was like and did so out of pity, but I wouldn’t have changed a second of the time I got to spend with him. Some days, I even lied to my mom about what time practice was ending, just so I could spend more time with him. Our one-on-one sessions were my lifeline.
“How you doing, kid?” The lines around his eyes deepened as he grinned. His face was leatherier than I remembered. Years of being out in the sun and having a hard life. His wife of thirty years had passed away when I was a junior in high school. That was the first time I’d ever witnessed an adult male crying.
“I’m… okay.”
“Surprised to see you home. Heard about the wedding. Sorry about that.”
“Yeah. It happens.” I wasn’t even heartbroken over it. Just hated I didn’t find out until the day of our I-dos. “Coming home was the only way I could escape my ex and the paps.”
He chuckled again before taking a sip of his own beer. I mimicked his movements and enjoyed the cool liquid sliding down my throat. “I can’t imagine what that’s like, but you know you can’t avoid them forever. They’ll find you if they look hard enough.”
I recalled him saying something similar when I was packing up to leave town without a backward glance for the first time. That was an instance no one knew about. No one but Coach Rudicell. It was after my dad left a boot-sized bruise on the side of my ribs and I could barely catch my breath. I tried to fight back that day, but my father was a massive beast and took me down without much of a hassle. Rudicell caught me in the locker room after practice with my backpack filled with clothes. He was smart enough to put the pieces together and let me stay with him that night.
“I know. Come here often?”
“Nah. I heard you were in town, and your mom called and asked me to check up on you. I scoped the school and baseball fields first. This was my last stop.”
Grumbling, I uttered, “I’m not a child.”
Coach must have heard, because he replied, “We know that. She just cares. Your mom has missed you all these years, but she never complains. Anytime she gets the chance, she goes on and on about how proud she is of you.”
Well, if hearing that didn’t sting like a thousand porcupine quills. I knew her heart was in the right place, but I’d sent her all that money to help her move on from the lies and the heartbreak my dad caused. Not for her to stuff it away in an account that only I was able to access. The condemned house had been bad enough, but to hear she was working off the double mortgage and personal loans my father had taken out under her name and squandered had been overwhelming. If the man hadn’t died, I would have killed him myself.
“I know she is. I’m not mad at her. Just upset that she kept me in the dark all these years.”
