Spring Training (3 page)

Teri had become comfortable in her own skin in the past decade, when she’d finally accepted that as long as she was fit and felt good, it wasn’t necessary to be a stick. Oh, she wasn’t fat. But like most women who’d had kids, her hips hadn’t ever quite snapped back to where they were beforehand. And on the dark side of forty, she was starting to notice a certain propensity to softness, even with a religious workout schedule.

They finished setting things away in silence, then were left with nothing to keep them from awkwardly waiting for Emery to reappear. Trying not to stress about the coming talk with her son, Teri peeked at Aaron, after folding up her reusable bags to take home, and found him observing her intently.

“Sorry for the not-so-friendly greeting. You’re not quite who I expected to find at the door,” he finally volunteered.

Teri relaxed a bit as she smiled. “Now, you know I have to ask who you
did
expect.”

Aaron grinned back, and something about him again struck her as familiar.

“Well, when Emery said his ‘number one fan’ was coming to spend the night, I thought he meant…” He trailed off, embarrassed, then gestured with a grimace. “You know, not a
mom
.”

“Hmm. Guess I don’t want to go there.” She studied him, but his identity still didn’t come to her. It was driving her crazy. “Aaron…Aaron…” she finally murmured aloud. “You look
really
familiar, but I just can’t place you.”

His smile dropped as if a curtain had fallen. He shrugged as a cloud passed over his eyes, negating the pleasant banter. It was such an abrupt change that Teri immediately regretted her nosy angling for information.

Without thought, she crossed to him and laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Aaron took a deep breath and Teri felt his corded forearm flex under her touch. “No,
I’m
sorry. I overreacted. You’re probably just thrown off by my name. They usually call me Hank.” He met her eyes as they widened.

Teri straightened abruptly.
Of course!
Now everything snapped into place. ‘Hank’ Aaron Reynolds. Huge story after the live broadcast of his season—and possibly career—ending crash into the boards. Her eyes went straight to his right arm, knowing the reason he was on the Disabled List was the need for a long rehab of the shoulder of his throwing arm. The beautiful, ornate tattoo of a Celtic cross should have been a dead giveaway, except—her gaze shot in disbelief up to his spiky blond hair—he had cut his trademark shoulder-length hair.
No wonder I didn’t know him.
It was—had been—his most recognizable feature.

And what was he even doing here? Teri battled to keep her pity and confusion from showing on her face. Playing in the
minors?
A member of last year’s All-Star team?

Catching herself kneading his muscular forearm, she snatched her hand away and took several steps back—running into her son, who smelled of soap and shampoo, a vast improvement, and whom she hadn’t even heard enter the room.

“You’re Hank Reynolds?” Em had evidently drawn the same conclusions as she had about his new roommate. True to form, he then blurted out the biggest of the string of questions burning in her own mind, going on in a disbelieving tone, “Why’re you going by Aaron? And what the fuck are you doing in the minors?”

Chapter Two

Aaron grimaced at the identical expressions of awe and shock from the matching amber eyes of mother and son.

You knew this was going to happen when you took this gig. It’ll be a hundred times worse when the press finds out you’re here.

He ran his hand over his hair in what was becoming a habitual manner, still unused to the short, close cut after over a decade of shoulder-length or longer. It had been an impulsive, symbolic gesture at the time of his surgery, to rid himself of the trademark hair while unable to play ball. But Aaron hadn’t realized at the time just how anonymous it would make him. He’d gone from unable to leave his house without being recognized, to having fellow players and big fans have no idea who he was. While he didn’t regret cutting it off exactly, he wondered if he’d ever regain his identity. And whether it even mattered to anyone besides himself.

Teri recovered first of the three of them. “Well, it’s wonderful to meet you…Aaron.” There was a very slight inflection trailing at the end, as if she was questioning the right name to use.

“Yeah. It’s pretty much just the media and other ballplayers that call me Hank. And I’m not playing. I’m just here helping out Coach McCauley while I rehab.” He shrugged, wincing as the automatic gesture pulled at his slow-healing surgical wound. “Better than just sitting around. And we’re not sure how long this will take. It was a complicated injury.”

That was an understatement. A chronic rotator cuff problem had plagued him since high school, when he’d been a pitcher, but he’d been able to put off surgery and nurse it along. Then a bad crash into the left field wall during the playoffs last fall had dislocated his shoulder and torn up some tendons to boot. All on his throwing side. And a left-fielder needed to be one-hundred percent with his gun.

The media hadn’t yet got wind of the prevailing opinion among his rehab team that he might not get enough range of motion back to be able to play at his former level, if at all. So while he was officially still on his team’s sixty-day-plus disabled list, he was fighting a losing battle coming into the start of the season, not yet ready to resume his position, but definitely not ready to give up on the only thing he’d ever wanted to do with his life—play ball.

Aaron clenched his jaw as he led the Sanduskys into the living room. He was only twenty-eight, damn it. He should’ve had another decade. And he
would
.

Mind firmly made up on that count, his eyes were drawn to Teri, curling up like a cat in the corner of the couch. When he’d opened the door, expecting to see some over-the-top baseball groupie, he’d been caught off guard by Teri’s wholesome, unembellished beauty. A quick, hot flash of unexpected jealousy had spiked through him at the thought of her being here for Em and not him.

Aaron rolled his eyes. He should’ve known who she was right away by her coloring—a petite, feminine version of his new responsibility, with the same rich, dark hair and whiskey eyes. But no way did she look old enough to have a full-grown son. She was short—probably a foot shorter than his six-two—and fit, with a youthful, positive energy that radiated from her. With her hair pulled back into a long ponytail and no makeup to cover the smattering of freckles across her cheekbones and nose, she could walk around on a college campus without a second glance. He wouldn’t be surprised if she still got carded for alcohol. Aaron frowned a bit as he wondered just how young she’d been when she’d had Emery.

Teri was currently directing a look at Emery that Aaron remembered being on the receiving end of a few times with his own parents, and he decided to make himself scarce for the coming clash.

“Sorry to bail, but I need to get my run in.” Aaron turned to Teri and a conspiratorial shine in her eye told him she knew why he was heading out. Sharp lady. The more he saw of her, the more he liked.

He hurried to his bedroom and washed up, then laced his running shoes. He hadn’t really planned on a run today, but he’d at least jog for a while and give the duo some privacy. Maybe he’d go down to the park and run by the river.

Aaron walked back out into the living room and Teri smiled at him when he appeared. There was just something about her…

He cleared his throat. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Thanks, Aaron. Have a good run.” The sound of his real name on her lips continued to whisper in his head long after his departure.

As soon as the door closed behind Aaron, Teri turned to study Em. He stared back at her, his expression growing more defensive by the second.

Trying to keep things non-confrontational, she nonetheless opened with what was foremost in her mind. “You’ve only been here for one night—”

“Ma, I really don’t need a lecture. So I went out with the guys. They were just welcoming me to the team.”

“Until noon?” she asked wryly.

Emery had the grace to flush. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off,
really
not wanting to hear anything about some groupie, or worse, a lie.

“Okay. Em, you’re an adult. I don’t have to agree with everything you do, any more than you have to answer to me for anything. Just…try to focus on what you came here for. All right? That’s all I ask.” She scooted closer to him on the couch and patted his jittering knee. “So, evidently you had no idea that Aaron was Hank Reynolds?”

As she’d intended, Emery relaxed and exclaimed, “I know! Oh my God. That’s just crazy. I don’t get it. And wow. I’m staying in Hank Reynolds’ condo!” He dropped back against the cushion dramatically. “Though, I don’t get why he has a condo here. But still.” Emery sat back up with his typical energy and nearly bounced. “Hank Reynolds is my roommate. Whoa.”

“Yeah. So you behave and be an extra-specially good roomie. Got it?” she ordered.

He nodded agreeably. “Got it. So how’s Alex?”

She smiled at how eager Emery seemed to keep the subject off his behavior, and let it go for now. “He’s good. Cross country just wrapped up with their last meet yesterday.” Which was why she hadn’t been able to come with Emery when he’d driven up with his belongings the day before, but Emery knew that. “He placed fifth, so a good showing. Busy with school and work, of course, with tax season.” Alex had interned at a well-known accounting firm for the past year and now had a part-time, seasonal job as a tax preparer for them.

Emery rolled his eyes. “Boring. Dude needs to get a life.”

That wasn’t entirely inaccurate, but Teri would rather eat liver than admit it. Not for the first time, she wished she could give Em a bit of Alex’s responsible nature, and Alex some of Emery’s outgoing
joie de vivre
.

“He’s happy. That’s all I want for either of you.”

Emery snorted. “He’s not happy. He just has no social skills, so he hunkers down in his own little world.”

“Em.” Teri shook her head, refusing to get baited by her son’s familiar taunting of his twin. “So what’s the plan for today? We should probably get you unpacked.” If he’d been out all night, she was sure he hadn’t bothered to do any himself. She frowned. “The boxes aren’t still out in the truck, are they?”

“Nah, we got them all inside.”

“We? You didn’t make Aaron help, did you? Not with a bad shoulder.” She winced.

Emery had the grace to look guilty. “I had no idea about that at the time. And he offered,” he defended.

“Okay, well, we’ll need to be sure to do something nice for him. Maybe take him out to dinner tonight.”

“Sure. That’s a great idea, Ma. Some of the guys were saying that the burgers at this sports bar about ten minutes from here are really good.”

Teri raised an eyebrow. “Burgers at a sports bar, huh? Is this meal for him or for you?”

“Hey, he’s a guy. He has to like burgers, right?” Emery gave her a lopsided grin and she pursed her lips.

“Fine. Burgers it is, though from the looks of the fridge, he’s a bit more serious about his nutrition than some people I know.”

“Know and love,” he teased.

“Yeah,” she agreed and leaned forward to ruffle his damp hair. “This mop. I swear. I should cut your hair while I’m here.”

“Ma! Come on…”

“Hard to field the ball when you have hair hanging in your face.”

“That’s what a hat’s for.”

Teri laughed. “Not exactly, but okay. Have it your way, Sasquatch.” She rose from the couch and stretched her back, slightly stiff from the drive. “Let’s take a look at your room and see what needs doing.”

“Um…I have a better idea. Why don’t I show you around? We’ll go for a drive and I’ll take you past the stadium, the grocery store, stuff like that.”

Obviously, from his diversion tactic, his room was a mess, but she wasn’t in the mood for a fight, and damned if she was going to do all the work while he bitched about unpacking on his last day off. “Okay, you win. But I
will
need a place to crash while I’m here, even if it’s the couch, so we’re going to have to tackle it sooner or later,” she warned.

“Of course.” His angelic smile at having got his way morphed into a more genuine one as he gave her an unexpected hug. “I’m glad to have you here, Ma.”

Teri swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. Emery wasn’t nearly as demonstrative as Alex, and was far more independent lately. It was beyond nice to actually hear that from her distractible son.

Rather than answer, she hugged him back. Maybe this would be a positive experience and place for him after all.

Chapter Three

“Hey, Brighton!” Emery yelled over the din of the pub, gesturing to a trio of players Aaron recognized from the team.

Aaron, Teri and Emery had lingered for hours over dinner at the sports bar Emery had chosen for their meal out, and while Emery had only had one beer in front of his mom during dinner, Aaron knew that the group approaching were among the wilder guys on the team, which most likely spelled the end of Em’s restraint. He shook his head. Had he ever been that young and stupid?

Easy answer—no way. He had been too grateful to get the shot at professional ball to screw it up.

Emery slung an arm around Teri in an easy, familiar manner as the guys boisterously greeted them, pulling up chairs around their table. Aaron envied their close relationship, so different from his upbringing.

“This is Teri,” Emery introduced her to the guys joining them.

“Very nice, Dusky. But she looks too classy for the likes of you.” Chet Brighton leaned across the table, reaching for Teri’s hand. “How about you forget about Emery here, and let me buy you a drink?”

The sight of the player’s hand about to touch Teri’s set off a clamor of anger in Aaron, but before he could react, Teri withdrew her hand to a safe distance as Emery spoke up.