Fastball (8 page)

He held his breath. Friendship between them
might not be possible, but he wasn’t ready to let her go, not just
yet.

She began to fidget with her purse straps,
her gaze darting away from him. “I…yes, of course. There’s really
nothing to forgive, but I don’t think we should let ourselves
forget it happened. The fact that you wanted to kiss me, and I
really wanted to kiss you back, is something we should remember. So
we make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Her words jolted him. So, she
had
wanted to kiss him back. Good to know his radar still worked, and
that something between them might still be possible. If he could
figure out the logistics, that is. “Your call. Why don’t we walk
back up to Prospect and see if we can find a couple of cabs?” That
seemed like the best course of action. He was too ramped up to keep
his hands off her, so a cool-down period was in order.

But there was nothing to say he couldn’t get
to know her better.

“Maddie, I’ve just spent more than two hours
telling you about my life,” he said as they headed to the cab
stand. “But it was totally a one-way street. How about giving me a
chance to ask a question or two about
you
? After all, we’re
going to be friends, right?”

When she cast him a doubtful glance, he gave
her a bland smile.

Her eyes narrowed. “You can ask. Doesn’t mean
I’ll answer, though. Remember—me writer, you subject.”

He laughed. “Fair enough. You don’t owe me
any answers. But let me try this. I couldn’t help noticing how you
reacted when I talked about my involvement with the Alzheimer’s
Society. I suspect you know someone who has it. Probably someone
close to you.”

Even with a good twelve inches between them,
he felt her stiffen. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ll understand if you
don’t want to talk about it.”

She kept walking, clutching the lapels of his
jacket. Then she glanced at him from under her lashes before
looking straight ahead again. “My mother has Alzheimer’s. She was
diagnosed about four years ago. But I’d noticed signs for quite a
while before that.”

Fuck.
“I’m sorry, Maddie. I really
am.”

Her gaze remained fastened on the pavement in
front of her. “It wasn’t just the forgetfulness. Sometimes, Mom
would dress herself in totally wrong clothes, things that didn’t
match or were meant for a different season. Then she’d get really
angry if I suggested she change. That’s when I knew, and tried to
get her to see a neurologist.”

“I’ll bet she resisted, didn’t she?” he said
gently.

“Big time. It was almost a year before I was
finally able to get her to go, and even then I practically had to
tie her up and carry her in.”

“She knew, didn’t she? That’s why she
resisted.”

She hugged the jacket tight to her body, as
if seeking comfort. He wished he could give it to her, wished he
could take her in his arms and cradle her slight form against
him.

“I’m sure she knew something was terribly
wrong, and I guess she couldn’t face having it confirmed,” she
replied in a flat, thin tone, nothing like the laughing voice of a
few minutes ago. “By the time I finally convinced her to see the
neurologist, he told us we’d waited too long. The disease was so
advanced that the drugs wouldn’t be able to help slow its progress
much, if at all. It was a devastating prognosis, even though I
pretty much knew it was coming.”

Jake couldn’t resist putting a gentle hand on
the back of her neck. Surprisingly, she didn’t shrug it off. “How
old is she now?”

“She’ll be seventy in July. Getting
Alzheimer’s in your sixties isn’t very common. It just seems like
the rottenest thing that could happen to someone who should have
had many more good years. Years to spend with me, and maybe even
with her grandchildren, someday.”

He heard so much sorrow and longing in those
words that it tore him apart.

“Within a month of seeing that doctor,” she
continued, “Mom had to be moved into a full-care facility. Now, she
can barely speak any more, and when she does it’s usually
gibberish. I’m not sure how much she recognizes me, either.
Sometimes, I’m sure she does. Other times, she’s completely in
another world. I can hardly remember the last time she called me by
my name.”

With a jerky motion she reached into her
purse and extracted a tissue, dabbing at her eyes. “I try to get to
the facility up in Massachusetts as often as I can. It’s hard with
my job, though I usually manage to get there at least once a month.
But I hate not being able to spend more time with her.”

Jake nodded, encouraging her to talk. Not
that she noticed. At this point, Maddie almost seemed to be talking
to herself, like she was working something through.

“Both my aunt and my cousin have been great.
They go over to the home several times a week and help her as much
as they can—buying her things she needs, just visiting with her and
making sure she’s okay. That sort of thing. It really helps.”

She stopped and exhaled a shaky breath. She
lifted her gaze to his face, her eyes deep wells of sorrow, and he
felt the tragedy of the situation with striking force. To lose her
father at an early age, and then her mother to the ugliest disease
he could imagine—the injustice of it made him want to smash
something apart.

“But I still feel guilty that I’m not there
more,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I feel like I should just quit
the
Post
and get some kind of job in Worcester, or at least
in Boston. That way I could take proper care of Mom. Be there every
day, or almost.”

He opened his mouth, not sure what he wanted
to say but knowing he didn’t much like the idea of her leaving
Philadelphia. Which made him a selfish jerk. He barely knew her and
he wanted to tell her how to lead her life?

Fortunately, she forestalled him. “It’s okay.
I decided long ago not to do that. I know if Mom and I were able to
really talk about it, she’d insist that I not sacrifice myself that
way. She believed in me and what I was doing, and she would totally
hate it if I ever derailed my career for her.”

He swallowed against the tight feeling in his
throat. “Ever think about moving her to Philly?”

“Sure, but she’s in one of the best
facilities in New England. Besides, the move would be too
disruptive for her. The doctors and I agree she’s best left where
she is.”

He gave her a brief hug as they reached the
top of the hill, then let her go. “Then you should definitely
follow the advice your mother would have given you, and try to make
your peace with it. I know it’s got to be an incredible emotional
drain, but it sounds to me like you’re dealing with it as best you
can. Don’t beat up on yourself, okay?”

Maddie took a deep breath and gave him a
brave but wavering smile. Man, she was killing him.

“You’re right,” she said. “Thank you, Jake.
I’m touched you were interested enough to listen so patiently while
I rambled on.”

“You weren’t rambling and I
am
interested,” he replied quietly. “I meant it when I said I wanted
to be your friend.”

She threw him a sideways glance, not
bothering to answer as they walked up to the cab line. Clearly,
he’d pushed her enough for one night.

Jake pointed to the first taxi. “That one’s
yours. Maddie, thanks for doing this. I really enjoyed the
interview. I know it wasn’t easy for you to do it this way. But I’m
glad you did, and I hope you don’t have any regrets.”

She slipped his coat off her shoulders and
held it out to him. “No, thank
you
, Jake. Thank you for
being so open and frank with me, and for being such a good
listener, too. I really had a good time tonight once I got over
being scared half to death about what we were doing.” She flashed
him a brief, uneasy smile. “Sort of got over, anyway.”

He smiled back and held out his hand for a
friendly shake. Best not to spook her any more than he already had.
“Thanks for sticking your neck out. I probably shouldn’t have
asked, but I hope it’ll turn out to be worth it for you.”

“It’s going to be a great article,” she said
as she pulled her hand from his and climbed into the cab. “See you
at Petco.”

Jake stood fixed to the spot, staring at the
cab’s taillights as they faded into the dark night. Unfamiliar
feelings of loneliness and dissatisfaction washed over him. It was
stupid, given all the obstacles that stood between them, but when
it came to the woman who’d just left him in the dust, stupid seemed
to be rapidly developing into his middle name.

* * *

Maddie steeled herself, fixing her eyes
straight ahead on the narrow highway in front of the cab. She
really wanted to turn around and look back at Jake to see if he was
watching her go. Oh, God, she was in
big
trouble, because
she already missed him, lambasting herself for passing up the
opportunity to get closer to him.

She leaned back against the shiny vinyl seat
with a sigh, trying to convince herself to be happy with scoring
such a fantastic interview. But she was kidding herself. Jake
Miller was more than just an interview subject. By halfway through
dinner, she’d wanted to lean across the table, grab the lapels of
his jacket, and yank him up into a smothering kiss. But then when
he’d
tried it on her, she’d panicked and shoved him
away.

She closed her eyes against the embarrassment
of that moment. How foolish, how girlish she must have appeared to
a guy like him. Of course, she couldn’t afford to fall for him. She
was deadly serious when she told him it would derail her career, or
at least force it onto a side track she had no intention of taking.
After her mother, her career was the most important thing in the
world to her. With her father gone and her mom fading away, could
anyone really blame her for being focused on work above all else?
Someday Maddie hoped to have a man in her life, but it could never
be a guy like Jake Miller. He was totally out of her league, and
she knew it.

Besides, the life of a star athlete’s wife
wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, if her observations were
anything close to correct. Her husband constantly on the road, with
temptation thrown his way on a daily basis. That would drive Maddie
nuts with jealousy, even with a straight shooter like Jake as her
man. And she
would
have to give up her career, which would
make her resentful and unhappy. Definitely not a recipe for a
successful marriage.

No, she couldn’t even imagine a way to make
it work, even if the guy was so damn handsome and hot, so smart and
honest. And obviously empathetic and kind, along with being a
genuinely decent human being. Now that she thought about it, it
made perfect sense that she wanted to spend time with him, even
risk…

She groaned and gently banged her head
against the headrest, knowing she had to get a grip. Jake Miller
had no intention of
marrying
her, for God’s sake. Yeah,
maybe he did really want to be her friend, but he also wanted to
get under her skirt. That much was clear. An affair between them
couldn’t possibly mature into anything meaningful—not with his life
being as it was, and her life being as it was. A relationship with
Jake Miller was a beautiful fantasy, and that’s what it would
remain.

She lectured herself like that for a few more
minutes as she watched the lights off the highway flashing by. Then
somehow she managed to turn her mind back to work, thinking through
the column she intended to write on the basis of the interview. In
that respect, the evening had been a resounding success, and
prickles of excitement ran through her as she mapped out the shape
of the article in her head.

The cab dropped her off under the hotel
canopy. As she made her way through the lobby, she smiled and waved
at a couple of the players who were obviously heading out. Now that
she had put Jake the fantasy date firmly back in his place, she
couldn’t wait to get back to her room and work. Swiping the room
card through the lock, she pushed open the door, dropped her bag
and kicked off her shoes. Undressing as fast as she could, she
tossed on her robe and fired up her laptop.

Nervous energy coursed through her body, the
story practically burning to come out of her. No writer had ever
seen the Jake Miller she saw tonight, not like that, anyway. She
was sure this story was going to be a big one, not just with
Patriot fans but with all lovers of baseball. And she suspected
that interest could go well beyond sports fans.

Maybe she could never give Jake Miller what
he had obviously wanted tonight, but she could do something else.
The man was a true hero off the field, not just on, and she was
going to make sure the world knew it.

The next day, Jake led the Patriots to a
resounding win, wrapping up the four-game series with the Padres.
Four hits in his four official at-bats and an intentional walk in
the ninth added up to a near-perfect outing as his five-RBI day
powered the team to an easy 8–2 romp. The win gave the Patriots a
split in the series, which wasn’t a bad result for away games. If
they could take at least two out of three from the Arizona
Diamondbacks in the upcoming series, they’d return home to
Philadelphia feeling very good.

Speaking of feeling good, Jake’s upbeat mood
surprised him, despite the rebuff by Maddie Leclair. He couldn’t
remember the last time a woman had rejected his advances—not that
he made that many, nothing like most of the other single guys on
the team. But usually he was doing the pushing away, not the other
way around. So, it baffled him why he still felt so good. Maybe the
fact that she had admitted her attraction was enough to satisfy him
for now. Sure, she had given him a verbal “this can’t happen” line,
and sounded like she meant it, but all evening he swore she had
been sending an entirely different message. In any case, all
through the afternoon game his shoes had felt light, his mind was
clear, and he knew it was one of those precious days when the
monumentally difficult task of hitting a 90-mile-per-hour-plus
baseball suddenly became temporarily simple.