Pitcher's Baby (19 page)

“You
never have to worry about me. I promise. I will take care of you, kid. You
don’t need to take care of me.”

“My
mommy will take care of me! I don’t need you to. I want my mommy!” I jump up
and start running into the trees. My mommy has to be here somewhere.

“Lucas!
Lucas, son, come back!” I can hear him calling out to me, but I don't stop
running. I just want my mommy!

Out
of breath, I lean against a tree and cry all my tears away.

My
mommy is not out here. She is gone. Something inside of me breaks . . . my
heart, I think. My mommy is gone, and I am starting to think she is not coming
back.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Charlee

I feel like all I have done for the last
two months is cry. I'm so sick of crying, but so thankful that I can feel
enough to do it. It’s so hard for me to understand how a parent could abandon
her child that way. Just drop him off and leave him, not knowing if he would
live or die. My chest aches. My heart is shattering for the little boy left all
alone in the middle of an abandoned park in the middle of the night. I want to
take away all the hurt and pain she caused him and cocoon him in warmth and
shower him in all my love.

“I'm sorry, Lucas. I had no idea,” I say,
turning my head into his chest and wrapping my arms around his neck. I can't
believe the amazing man he has turned into despite his horrible start in life.
The amount of love I feel for him seems to increase everyday with every single
fact I learn about him. The way he holds me, caring for me, loving me just
makes me fall for him more and more until I don't know where he stops and I
begin. The similarities between our childhoods is startling. It never crossed
my mind that someone out there had lived through something similar to my own
life before. I shut myself off from the world and pretended like I was all
alone in my pain.

“It's okay, Charlee. Honestly. I didn't
tell you any of that to make you feel bad for me, or to try to pretend that
what you're dealing with isn't tragic, because it is. I had to tell you all of
that so that you could fully understand what I'm about to tell you now.”

He pulls back, lifting my head off his
chest and staring me in the eyes. He captures my attention and holds it, making
sure I am listening to what he feels he needs to say.

“Every day, I wish for the chance to see
my biological mother again. Just once. I know that’s hard to believe, but I
need her to see me. I need to tell her how much I still love her and thank her
for the selfish sacrifice she made all those years ago. I want to hug her neck
and tell her that I forgive her.”

“How can you say that, Lucas? After everything?”

“Because, Charlee, if she hadn't done what
she did that night, not only would I probably be dead, but I wouldn't have had
the chance to meet the woman I call my mom or to hold my son. I never would
have met or fallen in love with you. Neither of us would be here right now. Her
decisions in life set me on the path that led me straight here. I wouldn’t
change that for anything in the world.”

“I know this is hard for you. You feel
lost inside of yourself and you don't know which way is up. I get that. I swear
I do, baby, but you have been given the second chance I wish I had. Don't waste
it. I know how much easier it is to shut down and bury the pain. I did it for
many years. But that's not living, Charlee. That's surviving, and you are so
much better than that.”

“It's just so hard!” I say, letting the
sobs break through the wall I trapped them behind. The fact that he can see me
hiding and say just the right thing to make me want to stop shows how good he
is for me. I can't promise him that things will be okay between my mom and me,
but I can promise to try, and I do right before I capture his mouth with mine.
This time, the kiss isn't sweet and slow. It's hard and fast. My kiss is an
attempt to force everything away, even for just a few minutes. I need to let it
all go.

“Make love to me, Lucas, please. I need
you.”

He doesn't argue or make me beg. His body
is so finely in tune with my own that I believe he feels what I feel. He knows
what I need right now, and he doesn't hesitate to give it to me. Wrapping his
arms around my waist, he lifts me up off the couch and carries me to his
bedroom, where he lays me gently on the edge of the bed. I sit up, letting my
legs fall to the floor, and pull him closer to me with the hem of his shirt. He
leans over, kissing me sweetly on the mouth as I work his shirt up, kissing
along his rock hard stomach. Chills break out along his skin as I trail my
tongue along the ridges of his abs before he pushes me back on the bed. He
lifts his shirt and tosses it across the room before kneeling between my legs
and teasing his tongue up the soft skin along my stomach, taking my shirt
higher and higher until he reaches the strap of my black lace bra. I lift off
the bed a little and let him pull it over my head and toss it to the side with
his own.

My hands can't get enough of him. I trail
them all along his back, loving the way his muscles bunch beneath my
fingertips. His mouth captures mine again, hot and greedy. All thoughts leave
me. I'm rubbing against him now and groaning in his mouth when I feel his
swollen erection pressed firmly against me. I need him inside of me NOW. My
hands slip to his waist, where I deftly unbuckle his pants and slide them as
far down as I can from my position underneath him.

“Please,” I beg. He pulls back, squatting
on his heels, and yanks my jeans down, taking my panties with them. His eyes
rake over my naked body squirming beneath him. I flush, embarrassed by the
uninhibited desire I see reflected in his gaze, and then he lowers his mouth to
my stomach again and begins alternating between kissing and licking down my
body until he reaches my center. All thoughts fade when his mouth touches me
there. I moan deeply into the back of my throat and try to find something to
grab hold of.

I'm on the edge, about to explode. All it
will take is just one more gentle suck on my sensitive nub, and I will be
spiraling out of control. I want him inside of me before it happens. Releasing
the bed sheets, I grip his shoulder and pull him from his position between my
legs. He slips his pants the rest of the way down after pulling a condom from
his wallet. He tosses the empty wrapper to the side and rolls the rubber shield
down his bulging length before centering it against my slick opening. I close
my eyes, waiting for him to pierce me, but he hesitates. I open my eyes to find
him gazing down at me. He pushes the hair from my face and cups his hand around
my jaw while looking deep into my eyes . . . into my soul.

“Je t’aime, Charlee Cooper.”

Tears fall from my eyes, unbidden by me. I
nod my head up and down, wanting more than anything to feel him inside of me
right this moment. He obliges willingly, sliding deep inside me, impaling me,
filling me. Moments later, I’m teetering on the edge once more. There is no
stopping it this time. I roll with waves of passion as they course through me,
shaking me to my core.

“Lucas!”

I yell out as I clench around him as he shudders
within me, joining me as we spiral out of control. He falls across me, resting
on his elbows on each side of my head. My chest is still rising and falling
rapidly as I try to catch my breath. He slips out of me and trails tiny kisses
down the side of my face.

 “I love you, baby.”

I fall asleep moments later, still wrapped
in his arms. I know there is a lot of shit I still need to work through at home,
and I will, but right now, this is what I need more than anything else. To be
held and loved.

“I love you, Lucas,” I whisper just as the
darkness claims me.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Lucas

Watching
her sleep has become one of the things I look forward to. Her guard is down,
and she has an almost ethereal look when she's asleep. Ethereal? Who even uses
that word? What the hell is wrong with me? I shake myself from my self-induced
madness and smile. She shifts slightly, curling into her pillow, and releases a
deep breath. I snuggle up close and wrap my arm around her waist, kissing her
softly on her cheek. She smiles, and her eyes open slightly as she whispers,
"Hi."

"Hi,
yourself," I softly murmur into her ear, laying my head on her chest. She
closes her eyes, and I lie there listening to the slow, steady strum of her
heart. Before I even realize it, the sun is high in the sky, announcing midday,
and the bright rays are beginning to trickle through the curtains. I’d planned
on taking her to the dugout today and showing her around the stadium, but
somehow, my plans veered off course.

I
pull her as close to me as possible and close my eyes, allowing her breathing
to lull me to sleep.

The
soft click of the bedroom door startles me, and I roll over to find I'm all
alone in the bed. Lying on my back, I push my hair out of my face and shake my
head.

Climbing
out of bed, I pull on my shorts and stumble down the hallway. The smell of
bacon begins to fill my nostrils, and I laugh at the fact that I thought she
had left. "Good morning, sunshine," she says as I come into the
kitchen. "You hungry?"

I
nod and fill a glass with some orange juice. "Smells amazing."

"Why
thank you. I told you I could cook."

"Well,
what do you know? She’s cute, sassy and knows her way around the kitchen,"
I tease. She points her spatula at me with a serious look on her face, but it
doesn't last. The corners of her mouth begin to pull up as she fights the smile
playing on her lips.

"Don't
be an asshat," she retorts, turning back to the stove.

I
laugh because I don't know what else to do. She turns her head and cuts her
eyes at me. "Don't make me—" she starts to say as I rush over to her,
pressing her against the refrigerator.

"Don't
make you what?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

She
opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out.

"Wow.
That's a first. You're speechless. Amazing." She pushes me away with a
smile and turns back to the frying pan. A sudden smack on the ass makes her
jump.

"Are
you done?" she asks.

"Yeah."
She nods, turning to look at me one more time when I sit down. She hands me a
plate and sits across from me.

"Well,
how is it?"

"It’s
ok."

"Just
ok?" she asks.

"Yeah."
I can see the red creeping across her cheeks, and its fucking adorable.

"Chill,
girl. I'm just messing with you." She nods slowly, biting her top lip.

"It’s
delicious. I could get used to this."

Chapter Thirty-Four

Charlee

It's two in the afternoon and class is
about to let out, so I need to run and pick Everly up from daycare. I feel bad
about leaving her there and then skipping class, but I needed today for me and
my own mental health. I feel better—more centered—and I know if I am in my best
shape, then I’ll be more adept to care for her.

I get dressed lightning fast and scrub
some toothpaste along my teeth with my finger before meeting Lucas in the
living room and letting him know that I'm ready to go. The drive to daycare is
quiet but far from uncomfortable. My hand rests in his while he steers with his
left. His thumb rubs circles on the back of my hand and along my wrist. I lean
my head against his arms, inhaling the warm, masculine scent of his cologne. He
smells of pine and . . . almonds. I love it.

When we pull back up at the house, he puts
the car in park, but he doesn't shut it off. I almost ask him what he’s
thinking and if he has someplace else he needs to be, but then I wonder if
maybe he just wants some time away from me, or some space or whatever it is
that guys usually need. I have no clue how to act and what to say or not say. I
don’t know how to be this girl.

Fuck it.

“How do you feel about a movie after
Everly goes to bed tonight? Maybe stay all night?” I ask.

“Are you sure? I don't want to seem too
needy.” He laughs out loud as he runs his hand through his silky brown hair.

“Yes, I’m sure. I didn't want to be too
pushy,” I say, laughing along with him.

“Okay, for now on, let’s say what we want
and not worry about how the other may or may not feel.” He cuts the engine to
the car, and the silence is deafening.

“It's a deal!” I say.

“In that case, I want you to move into my
room, permanently. We can set up your room as the nursery for Everly.”

“Really? It’s not too soon?” I ask. My
heart jumps in my chest, waiting for his response.

“Pas pour moi. Not for me.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.” Grabbing my car door,
I push it open and make my way to the back to unhook Everly’s seat strap and
pull her car seat free.

Lucas's phone rings as I pull her out of
the car, and he lets me know he will be inside as soon as he finishes with the
call. I walk up to the door with a light bounce in my step, glancing back one
more time before opening the door. I have a crazy gut feeling that something
bad is happening, but I can't worry about that right now.

I have to place my trust in him.

I kick off my shoes just inside the front
door and yell into the house to let my mom and Aaron know I'm home. No one
answers, so I head toward the kitchen in search of them. Something catches my
eye as I pass the living room, so I take a small detour through there. My mom
is on the couch. She looks to be sleeping until I step fully into the room.
She’s lying on her back on the couch, her eyes closed. One hand is hanging off
the side of the couch, her fingertips laying against the carpet in a pile of vomit.

My eyes rake over her body, trying to
comprehend what I'm seeing, and then my brain kicks into overdrive and I am
screaming her name as I rush toward her. Everly is crying now in her seat,
scared after being awoken so abruptly, but I can’t move and see to her right
now. I can’t move period.

The entire front of mom’s shirt is covered
in puke. It's caked along the side of her mouth and matted into her hair. It
looks like she turned her head and threw up, but wasn't able to move out of the
way afterward. The smell hits me then, and my mouth starts to water the way it
always does just before I puke. I pull my shirt up to cover my nose and mouth,
and that’s when I notice I have stuck my hand in something. It's brown and
mushy, and my stomach can't take anymore.

I hurl.

I don't realize I'm still screaming until Lucas
comes barreling through the front door. The look on his face can only be
described as pure horror. His eyes are wild as he searches the room for me and
then tries to figure out what happened. He rushes to me, wrapping me in his
arms and pulling me from the room. I sit hard on the base of the stairs while
he goes back in the living room and checks her for a pulse while dialing 911. I
hear him explaining what happened to the dispatcher on the other end of the line,
but I can't make out his words. I can't piece them together.

Lucas comes back moments later carrying
Everly in his arms, bouncing her gently in the crook of his arm. She has
finally quieted and is busy suckling on her pacifier.

The ambulance arrives five minutes, ten
minutes later. I don't know how long has passed. They ask me a series of
questions that I am unprepared to answer.
In shock
, I hear one of them
say, and then I don't hear anything, because they are gone and I am left here
all alone once again. No . . . that's not true. Lucas is still here. He's
sitting next to me on the steps, holding me close to him. My body tenses,
alerting him to the fact that I am back in the land of the living.

“Come on, baby, let's get you cleaned up.”
As soon as he says it, I realize I'm still covered in my mother's vomit and
feces. I feel my heartbeat pick up, and then claws of panic start to scratch at
the walls of my resolve. I stand and race up the stairs to the bathroom,
peeling off my clothes as I go. I put the water as hot as I can stand it, and
then I make it just a little hotter. I need this off me. I pour heaping amounts
of body wash into my hands and scrub at my skin. When that doesn't seem to help,
I use my nails, scratching a layer of skin off. Anything to get the smell gone.

Lucas opens the shower curtain and pulls
my hands away from my body, locking them into one of his. His voice is calm and
smooth as he coaxes me down from the edge of insanity. I listen to the gentle
hum of it as it brushes against me, calming me. He releases me hands and pours
some shampoo into his own hand and then gently scrubs away at my scalp. I can
almost pretend we are back at his room and he is in the process of making love
to me, but when I close my eyes, I see my mother's lifeless body laying against
our maroon couch. I rinse my hair and then step from the shower and dry off
with the towel he holds out for me.

“Is she . . . was she alive?” I finally
summon the strength to ask him.

“Yes, baby. Barely.” I nod my head,
accepting his answer. I can’t believe how much it hurts me to think that she
might have died while I was out having a good ole time with my boyfriend.
That's just something I could never forgive myself for.

“Come on. Let's get you dressed and we
will head to the hospital,” he says, pulling me toward my bedroom. Lucas walks
me to my bed and then tells me he is going to run and grab a new shirt to put
on.

“Do you want me to call anyone for you,
Charlee? Your brother? Ashlin?”

“Can you? Is that too weird? I just can't
do it right now. I don't know what to say.”

“Of course, baby. I'll call them for you.
Come downstairs when you're done, and we will head to the hospital. I’ve
already got Everly and her bag ready and waiting downstairs,” he says, taking
my phone from me when I offer it to him. I know he and Ashlin get along pretty
well, but I don't think he has her number, and I know he doesn't have my dad's.
It may seem like a crazy time and situation, but Mom coming back in town when
she did gave Dad the chance he needed to forgive her. They have been having
regular conversations on the phone just about daily, and I know he would want
to know what is going on. Just makes sense for him to use mine. That way, I
don't have to find pen and paper and write down the numbers.

I finish dressing in record time, choosing
to just throw on a pair of black jeggings and one of my dad’s old oversized t-shirts
from years ago. I haven't worn one of his shirts since I was a little girl. I
used to wear them to bed every night. It's strangely comforting to put one on
right now, like he is wrapping me in a tight hug. Lucas is just hanging up the
phone when I walk outside, pulling my hair into a sloppy bun on top of my head.

“Ashlin didn't answer, but your brother is
gonna meet us there. He asked if you were okay, and I said you’re better now. I
hope that's okay. If you want, I can call him back and have him swing by here
to get you. I mean, if you would rather be with him right now. I would
understand.”

“No. That's fine, Lucas. Thank you,” I say,
climbing back into his Cadillac.

He starts the engine and pulls out of the
drive. His tires peel out, screeching into the air when he shifts into drive.
My hand reaches for his, needing the comfort more than ever right now. I
finally understand what Lucas meant earlier about not wasting time and
forgiving. I wish I had told her last night that I did . . . forgive her, I
mean. I wish I had taken the time to wrap my arms around her and let her know
how much I still loved her. I just hope I still have a chance to do so.

I can't begin to describe the emotions
flowing through me on our drive to the hospital or during the twenty minutes we
wait in the stark white waiting room for Aaron to show up or the doctor to come
out and let us know what is going on. They range from all-encompassing guilt to
anger, to grief, then back to guilt.

I'm mad at myself for not being there for
her when she needed me. On a normal day, I would have been at class, and I
wouldn't have known anything out of the way was happening. It doesn't change
the fact that I'm hurting. I think most of it has to do with the fact that I
have no idea what the hell is going on, and no one will tell me a damn thing.
I'm about to the point that I start screaming and yelling and demanding answers
of some kind, but more than likely, the people who rush out to quiet me down
would be the ones working to save her life, and I would pull them away from
that. I can't do that. I already feel like I failed her by not being there for
her today.

I think back over last night's
conversation and the biggest revelation of the evening. After I had come back
around from my minor fainting spell, she and my brother questioned me on why I
thought she had kidnapped us. I explained what I remembered from that timeframe
thirteen years ago and why I thought that. Apparently, I was wrong on so many
levels about her taking us unlawfully to begin with, even if later, she did
take just me. She didn't disagree with that, and I skimmed over the rest of my
time with her, not wanting to dive back into all that right then, but I
couldn't understand one thing, and I asked her about it.

“If you didn't kidnap us and you didn't
press charges, then why did you end up in prison?” I asked her and Aaron. I
could tell she didn't really want to get into detail about what sent her away,
but I asked, and she wouldn't keep it from me.

“I went to prison for money laundering. Do
you know what that is?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think so. Isn't that when you
take money from someone you're working for and spend it?” I asked, giving my
chopped up version of what I thought I recalled money laundering being.

“Yes. That’s pretty much it in a
nutshell.”

“I don't understand.” And I didn't. All
these years, I thought she was in prison for taking us. None of this made any
sense to me.

“Do you remember that Christmas in South
Carolina? The one when your dad came and got Aaron?” She asks, and I nod my
head that yes, I remember. It's one of the strongest memories I have of my time
with her. The day my brother went home and I was left behind. The day Santa
found us.

“I had been skimming money off the books
for a few months before that, but I was always careful to keep it hidden. It
wasn't hard being the manager of the park. The owner pretty much left me alone
as long as I made sure the renters paid their rent and he got his check
deposited every month, but then Christmas came and I wanted it to be the best
one you had ever had. It was the first one you guys had spent with just me, and
I wanted it to be perfect, so I took more money, and in my rush, I got sloppy.
I'm not saying it would have been okay if I hadn't gotten caught, just that's
how I got caught. A few weeks after you flew home, I got pulled over on the way
home from work, and when the cop ran my license, a warrant popped up. I was
hauled away to jail and extradited to South Carolina for court.”

“Oh. Wow. So all those years spent in
prison just for us to have presents, and then we left most of them behind when
we left.”

“Yeah, I know. I hate that, but it is what
it is. Life sucks sometimes, ya know. I like to believe it was time for us to
move on, and as far as my going to prison, well, I don't really regret it. I
know you remember how messed up I was. I had lost myself to dope, and I wasn't
ever going to get myself back. Prison forced me to get clean. I can't ever
regret that. God works in mysterious ways, Charlee. Don't ever forget that.”

I couldn’t deny what she was saying. Any
of it. Truth be told, if she hadn't been sent to prison, she would probably be
dead. Shit, she might be now, anyway. I jump when Aaron touches my shoulder,
pulling me back out of my own thoughts. He has a bag slung over his shoulder
and my purse in his left hand. His right hand has a cup holder with three venti
Starbucks cups in it. I stand, taking my purse from him and thanking him for
taking the time to go by and get it. I open it up and see he remembered my
charger and my favorite book.