Chapter 28
The hot July sun beat down on the trio as they made their way along the fringes of the baseball diamond. Leading the way, Ryan climbed the stairs to the top row of bleachers and walked along the narrow edge of concrete until they found the perfect spot to watch the baseball game. Emily held Ryan's hand tightly, trailing the woman as her father brought up the rear.
Ryan chuckled, marveling at the changes her life had undergone since meeting Keir. Her eyes lovingly stroked his features. He represented more than a boyfriend. A new blended family had emerged from the rubble of Keir's divorce and the death of her husband.
If anyone had told her she would be looking forward to attending games for her boyfriend's son, she'd have laughed in their face and then called that person a liar. But here she stood, eager to spend the next two hours on a hard wooden bench, cheering on Adam's team, the Raptors.
Keir slipped into the space next to Ryan, placing a picnic hamper loaded with plastic containers of Sunny Delight, Subway sandwiches, fruit, and bags of potato chips on the bench next to them.
Commandeering the middle section of the top row of wooden benches, Ryan and Emily settled on the wooden bench and gazed toward the baseball diamond, searching for Adam's blue and white no. 12 Raptors uniform.
“Have you spotted him yet?” Keir asked.
“No,” Ryan answered.
He studied his watch for a second. “We've got about fifteen minutes before the game starts. We can relax.”
Several rows below them stood Lakeisha Foster. The woman looked exotic and enticing. Lakeisha stood in the stands, dressed in a fuchsia halter top and tight black racing shorts. Dark hair flowed freely across her bare back. “Keir! Keir!” she shouted.
In contrast, Ryan felt like a frump in a loose-fitting cinnabar-colored top and chocolate shorts.
Emily pointed a finger at the woman and said, “Look Dad-dee. That's Miss Foster.”
Instantly, Keir stiffened beside Ryan. She placed a hand on his thigh and whispered, “Don't let her get to you. Remember, when we saw her at Jo Del's, she told us her son played ball with Adam.”
Nodding, he tried to relax, and some of the tension oozed from his body. “You're right. It doesn't look as if we're going to be able to get away from her. We might as well get used to seeing her.”
“Or ignore her,” Ryan added, with a grin.
Laughing, Keir nodded. “Hold on. I think the game is about to start.”
The teams ran out on the playing field, and everyone stood to sing the national anthem. Once the last note faded into the air, the team managers ambled purposefully to the mound. The umpire produced and tossed a coin in the air. The Falcons won, giving them the first turn at bat. The Raptors took their places on the field as the first Falcon player stepped up to the plate.
Two hits, one run, and three outs later, the bottom half of the first inning started. One strikeout followed, and then it was Adam's turn at bat. He walked up to home plate, with his blue helmet in place and the bat slung over his right shoulder. As he prepared for the first pitch, words were exchanged between Adam and the catcher.
Adam grabbed the handle of the bat tighter. Between swings, several verbal exchanges occurred. Keir and Ryan were too far away to hear what was said. From both boys' body language, it wasn't good.
Leaning forward, Ryan strained to see what was going on. Frowning, she turned to Keir. “Something's not right.”
Stretching forward, Keir said, “Yeah. I know. I don't know what.”
The umpire flashed one finger in the air. “Strike one.”
Nodding, Adam stepped away from the plate and tapped the dirt from his shoes. He repositioned himself at the plate, ready for the next pitch. Ryan bit her bottom lip, waiting for the next throw. “Come on, Adam,” she muttered softly. Suddenly, Adam's head turned toward the catcher as the ball zipped by.
“Strike two,” came the umpire's call. The umpire flashed two fingers.
“The catcher is messing with Adam,” Ryan said to Keir.
“Do you know the catcher?”
“No. Hopefully, Adam can settle down and ignore the idiot.”
Three balls later, Ryan and Keir were on edge waiting for the final pitch. Nervous, Ryan nibbled on her nail. Keir's hand found hers, and he held her hand. “Come on, Adam. Come on,” he said under his breath.
The pitcher wound up and threw the payoff pitch. Adam swung and hit a line drive between the shortstop and second base. He dropped his bat and raced to first base.
Emily, Keir, and Ryan hopped up like tops, yelling encouraging words to Adam as he rounded first base and sped toward second. By this time the shortstop had recovered the ball and tossed it toward second. Adam slid into the plate, missing the second baseman by inches.
Thrilled, Ryan tossed her arms around Keir and jumped up and down. Excited beyond words, they clung together for several long moments. “He did it! He did it!” she chanted.
“That's my boy,” Keir said, with pride.
People stared at them. “I guess we should sit down,” Ryan suggested, following the idea with action.
As the day and game wore on, the score flip-flopped several times before the Raptors came out victorious. After the game, Ryan, Emily, and Keir went down to the playing field, searching for Adam. As they descended the stairs, Lakeisha Foster appeared. “Hey, Keir,” she said.
“Lakeisha,” Keir said matter-of-factly.
A large boy strolled toward the small group. When he reached Lakeisha's side, they saw that he carried the catcher's headgear for the Falcons. This was the child who had possibly upset Adam. Lakeisha placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and asked, “You remember Mr. Southhall, don't you?”
Malcolm nodded.
“His son played on the other team today,” Lakeisha added.
Keir held out a hand to the boy. They shook hands. “Well, see you. I've got to find my son,” said Keir. With a slight nod of his head, he moved away.
Adam appeared from the dugout and started for his family. Ryan reached him first, wrapping her arms around him. “Congratulations! We were so proud of you,” she told him.
Grinning broadly, Adam hugged her back. “Thanks.”
Keir hugged his son close. “You did a wonderful job. Great game! I told you anything worth having has to be worked for. You worked hard, and I'm proud of you, son.”
Adam's gaze slipped past them to where Lakeisha and her son stood. His eyes narrowed to slits, and there seemed to be a menacing glare in the boy's eyes. Malcolm's gaze landed on Adam, and they exchanged a meaningful look.
Curious, Ryan followed the direction of Adam's gaze and found his eyes on Lakeisha's son. Her gaze shifted from one boy to the other and then back again. Okay, what was going on here?
Malcolm had been the catcher while Adam was up to bat. What had the child said to Adam? Was this more than simple competition? Ryan wasn't sure. The situation didn't feel right.
She wasn't the only one who noticed the silent exchange. Keir studied the boys for a moment. He grabbed the hamper and said, “Let's get out of here.”
Emily slipped her hand in Ryan's. Ryan laid a hand around Adam's shoulder, and they trekked after Keir to the parking lot. Once the picnic hamper had been stored in the trunk of the Hummer and everyone was buckled up, they pulled out of the lot and onto the street, heading to the expressway.
It didn't take long for Emily to fall asleep. She laid her head against the door frame and promptly shut her eyes. Minutes later, they heard the soft hum of her snoring. For several minutes everyone was silent. Once Keir got the car on the highway, he asked, “Son?”
“Yeah,” said Adam.
“Did something happen while you were up to bat in the first inning?”
Adam hesitated. He fidgeted with the shoulder strap of his seat belt, plucking at the harness cutting across his chest. “Why?”
“Well, you didn't seem as focused. It looked as if something was going on, and Ryan and I were concerned,” replied Keir.
The boy sighed. “It was okay.”
“Was Lakeisha's son bothering you? Saying stuff that upset you?” asked Keir.
“Yeah, Dad.” Adam's lips were pursed as he considered his answer. “He was being a jerk, trying to mix me up.”
“What happened?” asked Keir.
The boy shot a quick glance at Ryan before saying, “Mal kept saying stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?” Keir's forehead was crinkled into a frown. There was a cautious quality to his questions.
“About us. Momma and you,” said Adam.
“Really. Mm,” replied Keir. His calm tone belied the way his hands gripped the steering wheel. “Whatever Mal said doesn't mean anything. He doesn't know anything about our family.”
“It just made me mad,” said Adam.
“I know you don't want to hear this. But you're going to have to learn to control your feelings,” said Keir. “Tune out the bad stuff so that you can concentrate on the game.”
Head lowered, Adam muttered, “I know.”
“Son, don't get me wrong. I'm not criticizing you. Talking bad to you is how people make you lose your cool so that you can't do your job. They talk a lot of junk, and before you realize it, you've screwed up. Don't let that kid destroy all the hard work you've done this summer. Understand me?”
“Yeah,” Adam whispered.
“Good. Let's get back to the good stuff. Your team won, and we're proud of you,” said Keir.
Ryan remained silent throughout the discussion. Something in Adam's face and tone bothered her. The way he glanced at her when Keir mentioned the stuff Mal had said. She had to get to the bottom of things. Whatever Mal had said, it had greatly upset Adam.
Chapter 29
“Strike three. You're out,” the umpire yelled.
The young boy's shoulders slumped, and dejectedly he dragged the bat through the dirt as he slowly headed back to the Raptors' dugout.
Ryan's heart went out to the child. She wished she knew of a way to make him feel better and to remove that forlorn expression from his face.
Keir turned to Ryan. Frustration was etched deeply into his features, and he warned half seriously, “If this game doesn't pick up for the Raptors, it won't last much longer.”
“I hear you. But, we can't give up,” said Ryan. Ever the optimist, Ryan patted Keir's thigh reassuringly. “There's still another hour to play. The Raptors can rally and win the game.”
Slowly shaking his head from side to side, Keir grimaced. “I hope you're right. With a score of four to zero, their hopes are fading.”
“We've got to keep a positive attitude, Keir. It's not over until it's over.”
“I know.”
She glanced down at the sleeping child. Emily's head rested in Ryan's lap, and her little body stretched along the opposite side of the wooden bench. Fifteen minutes into the game, she'd dropped her head onto Ryan's thigh and had promptly gone to sleep. Ryan stroked the little girl's cheek. Baseball moved at too slow a pace to hold Emily's attention.
Frowning, Ryan focused on the game, doing a mental check of the number of batters who went down in order. So far, five of the nine batters had had some sort of verbal interaction with the Falcons' catcher.
Ryan rested against the warm lines of Keir's body, watching the teams switch positions. “Each time the Raptors come up to bat, the catcher stirs them up. Could he be messing with their concentration? You know, like before. Like he did with Adam?” she asked.
Keir's dark eyebrows were slanted in a frown. He leaned over the bench to get a better look at the catcher and player. “Could be. I know they're kids. But they're supposed to be trained to ignore stuff like that.”
“You just said it yourself. They're kids. It's not that easy,” Ryan said dubiously. “There are adults who can't ignore stuff like that.”
“True.”
The Falcons went down without scoring a run. The Raptors ran to their dugout as the Falcons trotted onto the playing field. When Adam jogged to home plate for his turn at bat, Keir rose and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Adam, stay focused.”
The boy waved at his dad and then readjusted his helmet, preparing for the first pitch. Without warning, Adam stiffened as the bat fell from his shoulder. He turned to the catcher. His lips moved rapidly. They were too far away to hear the details of the scene unfolding in front of them. Ryan leaned forward, intent on Keir's son.
Come on, Adam. Don't let Malcolm get to you,
she said to herself.
Regaining his composure, Adam took several practice swings and then took his position at the plate, waiting for the pitch. The first ball left the pitcher's hand and flew past Adam.
“Strike one,” cried the umpire, flashing one finger.
Beside Ryan, Keir winced, while the line of his mouth tightened a fraction.
Ryan's fingers crept between Keir's as they sat together. Tension floated through the air as they waited for the next pitch. One strike and two balls followed. Adam stood at the plate, waiting for the next pitch.
Screaming furiously, Adam threw down the bat and helmet and charged at the catcher. He flew across the small space. The full force of Adam's body sent Malcolm smashing against the ground. Seconds later, they were rolling in the dirt, tossing punches.
Surprise siphoned all the blood from Ryan's face, and she cried, “Ohmigod!”
“Holy shit!” In a lightning-fast move, Keir sprang up and bounced down the long flight of stairs.
A huge crowd of players from both teams spilled onto the baseball diamond, surrounding the fighters. The umpire and managers fought their way through the hordes, aiming for the boys in the center of the dispute. Finally, the umpire got to the center of the group and pulled the two boys apart.
Malcolm kicked at Adam, missing him by inches. Adam broke away from the umpire and landed a punch on the catcher's jaw. The kid staggered backward, toppling over.
When Keir reached the bottom of the cement stairs, all hell had broken loose. A Falcons player had bumped against a member of the Raptors team, and a shoving match had commenced between them. Within seconds players from both teams were fighting, tossing punches, and shouting threats.
The brawl on the baseball field rivaled any professional hockey game scuffle. Chaos reigned.
Worried Adam might be hurt, Ryan gently shifted Emily's head off her thigh and placed the child's head on the bench and stood, trying to see the playing field above the heads of other curious onlookers. The crowd gathered around Adam and Malcolm made it impossible for her to get a glimpse of Adam or see what Keir was doing.
Please don't let him get hurt,
Ryan silently prayed.
A bullhorn blew from somewhere in the stands. The sound jolted everyone on the baseball diamond. This ruse gave the umpire and managers time to separate the players. The umpire held on to Adam with one hand and Malcolm with the other. The catcher continued to take swings at Adam. One of his punches landed on the umpire's chest.
“You're out of here,” the umpire yelled at Malcolm, pointing a finger at the dugout. “Get your gear and go.”
Adam grinned. A devilish bearing of his teeth revealed how much he was enjoying Malcolm's dilemma.
The umpire shifted his attention to Adam. Ryan felt her heart slam against her chest as she gnawed on her bottom lip. Things weren't over. Adam needed to pay for his part in this brawl.
“What are you laughing at?” The umpire gave Adam a hard, quick shake. He pointed at the clubhouse and added, “You do the same thing. Neither one of you guys will be playing for a while. The next time you feel the urge to toss a punch, you'll think twice and have more respect for the game. Go!”
Finally, Keir appeared on the baseball diamond, on the fringes of the crowd. He squeezed between the outer circle of players and spectators. Keir pushed his way to the center of the group, taking charge with quiet authority. “Do you know what caused this?” he asked the umpire.
“It doesn't matter. I won't have this type of behavior at my games,” replied the umpire. “Both boys displayed poor sportsmanship by inciting this free-for-all. I can't allow that to go unpunished.”
The Raptors' top man nodded, pointed a finger at each boy and then shoved his thumb towards the clubhouse. “Game over. Dugout.”
In contrast, the Falcons' manager began to talk fast and furious. Pointing at Adam, he said, “My player didn't start it. Why should he be kicked off the team for something that kid started? That's where the poor sportsmanship comes in.”
“Don't blame all of this on my son,” warned Keir as he pointed a finger at the manager. “There were two people involved in this.”
The umpire concurred. “They both participated, and they'll both receive the same punishment.”
“Son, come on. Get your stuff,” Keir said as he placed a hand on Adam's shoulder and steered him away from the group.
Ryan picked up the still sleeping child and hurried down the steps. She met Keir at the bottom of the stairs, and they left the ball field together.
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Tension stretched the silence to the breaking point. Everyone climbed into the Hummer and sat, still and quiet. Keir maneuvered out of the parking lot and made his way to the highway. Once he merged into highway traffic, Keir asked quietly, “Son, what happened?”
An expression of pain and then regret flashed in Adam's eyes, surprising Ryan. What had Malcolm said to upset Adam so much?
“Well?” Keir said.
“He made me mad,” replied Adam. He poked out his bottom lip and stared out the window at the moving traffic.
“How?” asked Keir.
Adam pulled at the leather strings of his baseball mitt and then rubbed a hand against his forehead. “Mal kept talking junk.”
“Junk? Like the last time?” replied Keir.
“Sort of,” the boy answered evasively.
“Mm.” Keir mulled that comment over before asking, “If it was the same crap, why didn't you ignore him?”
Agitated, Adam admitted in a tone rough with anxiety, “Because he kept saying bad things, and I couldn't let him get away with it.”
“What kind of bad things? About you?” Keir asked. He took his eyes off the road to glance in the rearview mirror at his son huddled against the back door.
Up to this point Ryan had stayed out of the conversation. The pain in Adam's eyes unnerved her. A shadow of alarm touched her heart. There was much more to this story. Ryan felt it.
She glanced at Keir. His closed, guarded features increased her misgivings.
She touched Keir's arm, drawing his attention away from the child. “Why don't you let it go for now?” she asked.
Keir shook his head. “Can't. I need to get to the bottom of this. That's the only way I'm going to get it sorted out. If Lakeisha is behind Malcolm's remarks, then I've got to get my facts right so I can talk to her and Shannon.”
Ryan tried another approach, lowering her voice so only Keir could hear her. “Adam's really upset. A lot has happened today. Give him a little bit of time to recover. You don't have to talk to Lakeisha today.”
“No,” Keir vetoed. “I need to sort this out now.”
There wasn't much she could do. Ryan turned to Adam and mouthed the words, “I'm sorry.”
“Adam, what kind of junk did Malcolm say?” asked Keir.
The boy squirmed in his seat. Finally, he said, “He said stuff about us!”
“Us? Like what?” asked Keir.
Shaking his head, Adam scrunched up his little face, and his eyes darted in Ryan's direction. A wave of apprehension swept through her, turning her stomach into knots.
“Stop pussyfooting around and tell me,” Keir demanded. His eyes darkened with anger. “I'm not going to punish you. You didn't do anything wrong. I want to put the blame exactly where it belongs. I believe it belongs on Lakeisha and her son. Nothing can be done until you tell me everything.”
This story was far from complete. In the months Ryan had known both of the Southhall children, they had never raised a hand at each other or at anyone else. The pair teased, but a malicious word never left their lips. Whatever happened between Malcolm and Adam had pushed the boy to the breaking point. He was not the kind of child to instigate a fight for the fun of causing a ruckus or being the center of attention.
From the expression on Keir's face, ferreting out the information wasn't improving his mood. He wanted answers, and Adam's responses were not dampening Keir's frustration, they were adding to it.
“Adam?” Keir prompted. The stern note in his voice sent a chill coursing through Ryan.
Grimacing, Adam quickly turned away. He tied and untied his baseball mitt's loose strings into knots. Finally, he answered. “Mal kept saying bad things about Ryan.”
“Ryan?” Keir repeated.
Ryan gasped. What could Malcolm possibly know about her? And the more important question, why would he talk about her?
“What did he say?” she asked.
Adam's head hung, and his cheeks turned red. “I don't want to say.”
“It's okay,” Keir assured him. “Tell us.”
“Malcolm called Ryan a b-b-bitch,” said Adam. He hesitated over the next part. “Like a prostitute.”
Embarrassment flushed Ryan's face beet red. Appalled, she turned toward the window so that they couldn't see her.
Ohmigod
. Why would a kid talk like that about someone he didn't know?
Keir reached across the transmission gear and touched Ryan's arm. “You okay?”
Nodding, she continued to stare out the window. She didn't want him or the kids to see the tears swimming in her eyes.
Whispering softly so that the kids didn't hear him, Keir assured her, “This is not your fault. Don't think it is.”
Now that Adam had made his confession, the words practically spilled from his lips. “Malcolm said Ryan broke up you and Mom.”
Keir's hands were clenched tight around the steering wheel, but he spoke calmly. “Adam, you know that's not true. Your mother and I were divorced before I met Ryan.”
“I know. He made me mad,” replied Adam. “Malcolm called Ryan a home wrecker. And that's why you and Mom can't get back together. Ryan keeps you apart.”