The Practice Proposal (15 page)

“So this was never about my contract?”

The mention of business immediately animated Frank. “Oh, I didn’t say that, son.”

The familiar nickname took on new meaning for Cole. It occurred to him that he’d never
heard Frank call anyone else “son” all these years, but it had never crossed Cole’s
mind that Frank meant it literally.

“You definitely needed to settle things down. The Nats are still makin’ up their minds
about you. Your game is golden, as long as you stay focused. But you need to keep
things steady with Liza so they understand you’re serious.”

“I am serious.” At least Cole was certain about that. At this point, there was nothing
fake about their relationship for him.

“Keep that attitude,” Frank said, “and you’ll be fine.” His eyes got misty and Cole
saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

Cole clenched his teeth. He was fighting so many warring emotions that he didn’t know
what else to say to
his father
. He stood abruptly. “I’m gonna go for a drive, just lock up when you go.” He nodded,
convincing himself that leaving was the best thing to do. “Everything’s out there
now, so…”

He grabbed his keys and left. Being alone was what he knew, and that’s what he needed
right now.

Cole drove his pickup in silence, both hands on the wheel.
Frank is my father…
The news had dazed and confused him. He never would’ve imagined he’d learn who his
father was, and why John and Sylvia had drifted out of his life, all at the same time.

Why had Frank done this to him? And why hadn’t he told Cole before? His anger coiled
tighter with each question. His life could’ve been so different if Frank would’ve
been there for him. He drew back his arm, struck the steering wheel with the palm
of his hand, then balled it into a fist.
Ow!
Stupid move. Showing up tomorrow with a self-inflicted hand injury wouldn’t help him
get a new contract with the Nats. He needed to smash some baseballs, but that wasn’t
going to happen tonight.

He rolled down the window. The crisp autumn air whipped against his face and thrashed
his hair. For all these years, he hadn’t thought there could be an acceptable explanation
for what John and Sylvia had done to him. Turned out there was. They clearly weren’t
blameless in all that had happened, but Frank said they wanted to make amends.

But what about Frank? It might take a long time for Cole to wrap his mind around the
idea that Frank was his father and figure out how to handle it. He’d always thought
of Frank as more than an agent—kind of a wise adviser who was around an awful lot.
But how could he have known that all agents didn’t act like that? Frank was the only
one he’d ever had. And Frank had been there to glue Cole’s world back together after
the Orioles hadn’t drafted him, for all the good it did. Then he’d recommended his
brother Mack to work for Cole…

Mack had kept Frank’s secret all along, too, just like the Sutherlands. But Cole couldn’t
blame him. What would Mack have gained from revealing the truth? As it turned out,
Cole was closer to Mack than he’d ever been to Frank. Probably because Frank had always
been knotted up with his secret, and Mack just wanted to help.

There was so much to sort out. Frank was still Cole’s agent, and that relationship
wasn’t going to change anytime soon—if ever. This was no time to make rash decisions,
and right before contract negotiations was no time to be looking for another agent.
Cole sped down the open country road, thinking about Frank’s recent threat to leave
him. Now he knew just how empty that threat had been.

It would take Cole a while to muddle through all that Frank had said. To sift through
the anger and bitterness and could-have-beens. And it would take him a while to adjust.
Would he ever see Frank as his father? He couldn’t say right now. The harder question
was whether he could ever forgive him.
All those years without a father. All those years without John and Sylvia. All those
years alone.
He’d do best to look toward the future now. There’d been enough damage done by shutting
people out, and he didn’t want to go through that hurt again.

As painful as all this was, he never would’ve unraveled the mystery if Sylvia hadn’t
set him up with Liza, and Liza hadn’t insisted on finding answers. He glanced over
at the empty passenger seat and realized he wished she were there. Her genuine smile,
her tender heart. Her sexy wholesomeness. He couldn’t stop thinking about how she
felt in his arms, with her lithe body pressed to his. Fiery and feminine, yet fragile.
Still unable to let herself go.

Even so, she turned him on more than any woman he’d ever been with. But his attraction
was more than just physical. He’d reconnected with her in a way he’d never expected.
The girl who’d really understood him years ago still
got
him today. She was smart and funny and giving. She’d grabbed his heart for good the
second she whipped out those baseball PB and Js.

Sure, he’d started dating her because of Frank’s plan, but it really hadn’t been about
that for him since early on. It had been all about Liza. He wasn’t sure about everything
that had happened tonight, but he was sure he wanted to be with her. He swung his
truck over to the side of the road, stopped, and pulled out his phone. He snapped
a picture of the empty passenger seat and attached it to a tweet.

Cole Collins
@ColeCollins

@LizaSutherland Comfort zone = not so comfortable. Wish you were riding shotgun. #wantyouwithme

Cole got back on the road and headed to Baltimore.

Chapter Seventeen

Frank needn’t have worried about Cole keeping things steady with Liza. After he’d
learned Frank was his father, she was exactly the solace he’d needed. She’d been there
for him that night—listening to every question and every doubt, and she’d promised
to be there for him whenever he needed her. How had he lived without her in his life?
Lonely…that’s how.

He wanted to be with her every day, but that was impossible. His playoff schedule
was crazy and his stress level was maxed out. Even so, she kept him grounded, focused,
and confident.

They’d looked forward to celebrating their respective league championship wins together—if
they happened—yet as it turned out, both the Orioles and the Nationals won on long-distance
road trips. The logistics hadn’t worked out for them to be together, and through the
games and travel and practices, Cole missed her every minute. Even so, the thrill
of winning, and their teams meeting in the World Series, made what little time they
had together that much more exciting. They’d stolen a date here and there, but Cole
had waited for the perfect day for what he had planned.

He and Liza had headed out to Maryland in the midafternoon, with her riding shotgun
in his pickup.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her eyes glimmering.

“It’s a surprise.” His nerves had started to kick in a little.

“You’re full of those,” she quipped.

Liza had become livelier around him, and there were fewer times when he lost her
to what he figured were moments of grief. He got the feeling that was the last thing
holding her back from letting herself go and really giving him a chance.

“This one’s kinda special,” he said.

“Sounds exciting.” She grinned, looking relaxed. But that changed when they crossed
the city line of Davidsonville. She gazed at Cole as he drove, looking vulnerable
all of a sudden. “Wes is buried here,” she said softly.

He nodded and glanced at her sympathetically. “At Lakemont Memorial Gardens.”

“Is that where you’re taking me?”

“I’d like to,” he said gently. “If you’ll let me.” He reached over, clutched her hand,
and smiled ruefully. “You’ve been there for me through so much. From years ago up
to right this second. I couldn’t have made it through the tough time with Frank without
you.” He lightly kissed her hand. “Dealing with the past hurts, and now it’s my turn
to be here for you. Let’s go see Wes together.”

Liza bowed her head and cleared her throat, her hair falling around her face. “We
won’t need the GPS. I’ll show you how to get there.”

Cole hated to see her struggling with so much emotion, especially since he was the
cause. He was feeling emotional, too, but they had to make this trip. It would be
painful for her, and difficult for him, but he hoped they could move forward afterward.

“Take a right up there by the stone wall.” Liza’s voice wavered.

At least the late afternoon was bright, the cloudless sky a flawless backdrop for
the color-tinged leaves and autumn-green grass.

Cole made the turn into the memorial park. The setting was serene among the rolling
hills, with beautiful trees, colorful shrubbery, and picturesque ponds with fountains.
He’d rather be buried somewhere out in the country, somewhere a little less structured,
but he’d be okay if he ended up in a peaceful place like this. It reminded him of
the cemetery in North Carolina where his mom and grandma were buried.

“Park near that weeping willow over by the pond,” Liza said.

He glanced at her and caught her biting her lip. She gazed toward the willow and took
a deep breath.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. But now that they were here, he had
to go through with his plan. Turning around might be easier, but it wouldn’t be helpful
to Liza.

He parked the truck and went around to open Liza’s door. She stepped down, took his
hand, and started walking slowly.

“Wait.” Cole opened the back door, grabbed a large shopping bag, and pulled out a
bouquet of flowers. He was no expert, and he’d had no idea how the arrangement he
ordered from the florist would turn out, but this bouquet was exactly what he’d had
in mind.

Liza gazed at the flowers and pressed her fingers to her lips. “You…” She gazed at
him, her eyes brimming with tears. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Cole hugged her gently. “I wanted to.”

“This looks like an Orioles bouquet.”

“That’s what I was hoping.” He had remembered his grandma loving orange lilies, so
he’d started with those, and then had them mixed with white roses. The florist had
suggested adding bunches of berries that looked almost black. The combination had
sounded kind of scary—and a lot like Halloween—but Cole had given it a chance and
been surprised at how pretty it looked. Liza seemed to like them, and that’s what
mattered.

She tipped her head toward the big weeping willow, which bordered a pond with a carillon
tower beyond. “Wes is over there.” She led him to a marble bench beneath the tree
where she sat with the bouquet in her lap, and gestured for Cole to sit next to her.
Centered on the ground in front of them was an unassuming pewter plaque that read
Wesley Andrew Kelley. Beloved son, brother, fiancé, and friend
.

Cole’s heart hitched when he read the word
fiancé
. Embossed on the metal, it made Wes’s relationship with Liza even more real—memorialized
forever.

“We thought about putting
hero
on there.” She nodded toward the plaque, as if she’d heard his thoughts. And what
a nightmare that would be if he dared to even think about how he’d ended up here with
her in the first place. All because Frank wanted him to make it look like he was settling
down so he could get a better contract. He felt like a fraud sitting here at Wes’s
grave. Now that Cole’s intentions were pure, he was terrified she’d somehow find out
they hadn’t been in the beginning.

“I read up on Wes and found out more about what happened to him.
Hero
is the first word I would’ve used to describe him.”

Her eyes widened. “You researched Wes? I mean, beyond finding out that he’s buried
here?”

Cole’s stomach clenched. He couldn’t read the tone of her voice or her expression.
This situation—and a girl this complicated—was an entirely new ball game for him.

“He’s such a meaningful part of your life,” Cole said carefully. “I wanted to know
more about him. But I didn’t want to ask you too much, since I imagine it’s painful
for you to talk about.”

She shook her head. “Not as much as you might think. What hurts more is when people
intentionally avoid talking about him because they’re uncomfortable and afraid to
hurt my feelings. When you lose someone you love, there’s nothing more healing than
to talk about it. But most people get that this-is-too-awkward look in their eyes
when I mention Wes.”

The willow branches swayed in the breeze. Cole thought about what she’d said and decided
it might’ve been a good idea to come here after all.

“Believe it or not, I can relate.” He traced his fingers over the cool, smooth marble
bench. “Not to losing a fiancé, but when my grandma died…” He swallowed hard. This
cemetery had affected him more than he’d thought it would. “She was all I had. And
there was no one to talk to about her because, by then, it was just the two of us.”

“I like hearing about your grandma. She sounds like an amazing person…who raised an
amazing person.” Liza smiled. “I wish I would’ve had the chance to meet her.” She
lifted the bouquet from her lap and inhaled deeply.

“As strange as it sounds,” he said, “I wish I could’ve met Wes, too. I hope you’ll
tell me more about him, but from what I know so far, he managed to be all those things
y’all put on that plaque
and
a hero.”

She nodded. “But he was so unassuming about it all. That’s why we decided he’d like
it better if we let his memory speak for itself. He would never have wanted
hero
written on his grave.”

Cole couldn’t begin to compare himself to Wes Kelley. But he did see some of himself
in what Liza had said. He didn’t care if he was named All-Star or MVP. Sure, it was
nice to be rewarded for his achievements, but when it came down to it, he just wanted
to be a good baseball player and a good teammate.

And a good husband…
Now that he’d found a woman he could trust, the thought didn’t seem so far-fetched.
Liza didn’t want him for his money or his fame. She knew exactly who he was and where
he’d come from, and here she was beside him.

“I understand that a part of your heart—a part of your life—is here with Wes,” he
said. “Always will be. There’s no way we could be together until I showed you that.”
He steadied the bouquet in Liza’s hand, tugged out a rose from the underside of it,
and stood, facing Liza and Wes’s plaque.

“Wes, man,” he said. “I know this isn’t the way you’d imagined things would work out…having
to leave so soon. But you seem like the kind of guy who’d want to know that the people
you love are going to be okay.” Cole took a deep breath. He was choking up like he
did during every home game when the Nationals saluted the wounded veterans and the
fans waved their caps. That song “God Bless the USA” got him every time. But this
was even harder. Especially since Liza was blinking back tears, too.

“So I can promise you this,” he said. “I promise I’m not as good a man as you, but
I’m working on it. I promise I’m not trying to take your place, because I know I never
could. And I promise if Liza will let me, I’ll do everything I can to make her as
happy as you would if you’d have had the chance.”

Cole bent down and placed the rose on Wes’s plaque. As he stood, Liza joined him,
a tear trickling down her cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered. After a moment, she knelt down, put the bouquet next to
the rose, and traced her fingers over Wes’s name.

Cole gave her all the time she needed, as well as a little space. He stood behind
her, regaining his composure, watching the geese swim in the pond.

Liza stood, brushed bits of grass off the knees of her jeans, and clutched his hand.
She gazed at him, her eyes intensely green and glistening. “I never expected…”

Cole waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. Even so, he could pretty much guess
the words that hadn’t come. He hadn’t expected this from himself, either. But Liza
had managed to bring out the man he wanted to be. The man he knew he could be and
had been all along—underneath it all—but he just hadn’t had the courage to let free.

He’d finally found a place where he belonged…with Liza…and it felt a lot like home.

The carillon bells began ringing. Liza took a long last look at Wes’s grave and turned
to Cole. “I’m ready now.”

…

Liza sifted through her emotions as they walked back to the truck hand in hand. Cole
had sneaked in through the side door of her heart like an unexpected visitor, and
he was settling in. She hadn’t really known it, but she’d been waiting for him to
come. He’d helped turn her grief into hope and made her believe she could find love
again. Taking her to Wes’s grave today had been the one last thing she needed from
Cole so she could risk giving him a chance, no matter what she had to sacrifice. How
many men would’ve had the courage to do what he had done, or the heart?

They got in the truck, and he drove slowly out of the cemetery. The sun sank low
over the horizon, and the sky was striped with orange and brilliant pink. Liza took
it as a sign that Wes was pleased that, despite the crooked path she’d taken to get
there, she was finally happy.

“There’s something in the console for you,” Cole said after they’d driven out of Davidsonville.

Liza narrowed her eyes at him and opened the console. Inside was a box filled with
several stacks of personally autographed Cole Collins baseball cards.

“For the boys at your BADD camps,” he said. “And an extra one for you. I even put
a girlie little heart after my name.” He winked and her heart did a backflip.

“I am so gonna tweet a picture of that.”

He grinned. “It’s definitely one of a kind.”

“Thank you,” she said with a twinge of sadness in her voice. She wondered who would
give out those cards next year, since it probably wouldn’t be her. “Those boys will
be thrilled, even though they missed out on girlie little hearts.” She smiled, amazed
by his thoughtfulness. “I’d like it if you’d take me back to my place.”

Cole nodded, seeming to understand her meaning.

Liza sat for a while in silence, thinking about all he had done for her. He’d been
so open, and he deserved the same from her. That included the truth about her deal
with Frank. She’d meant to tell him sooner, but he’d been dealing with the stress
of the playoffs, and his relationship with Frank was on such tender footing. And now
there were all the emotions associated with Wes. Even so, she’d find the right time.
Soon…I’ll tell him soon.

They made their way back to Baltimore, and to Liza’s place. By then, a starry night
sky had blanketed the harbor. They stood on the balcony, arm in arm, gazing at the
view. Liza rested her head against his chest and he lightly traced his finger across
her nose.

“A girl without freckles…” He bowed his head and gave her a play-along-with-me look.

“Is like a night without stars,” she said, smiling. She never would’ve guessed he’d
be such a romantic. And all for her.

“Thank you for making this day about me…and Wes,” she said. “But it wouldn’t be right
if I didn’t say…” She stood on her tiptoes and lightly brushed her lips across his,
the slight scrape of his whiskers sending an excited shiver through her. “Congratulations.”
She kissed him again, more fully this time, wanting to lose herself in him…soon. “On
winning the National League Championship.”