Chapter 28
[Ross]
Not friends-friends, not the type with benefits.
Is that what she said? Why did she say that? I’d like to think we’re something more. Special friends? That sounds lame. I don’t know how to define our status. Strange? Weird? Strangely, weirdly serendipitous?
I mean, what are the odds that this woman keeps coming into my life and then the Anchors win.
Although, being with her doesn’t account for every win.
And certainly, the way the team plays has more impact on the outcome of the game, but still, I’m more energized, clearly focused, and at ease knowing Vee is there for me.
She’s my win.
And continual questions bombard me as I pace my hotel room in the few minutes I have between finishing my breakfast and heading to the field.
It sounded like Harley was enjoying himself whereas I can hardly get him to give me the time of day. I’m jealous my kid is having pancakes with my . . . friend who is a friend without benefits. But I’m also envious of Vee. She’s spending time with my boy and making him happy. It should be me.
Am I being selfish with Vee? Do we need to clarify who we are to one another, or does friend encompass our situation? After the other night, plus our time back in Arizona, I’d like to think we are more than such a simple term.
I miss spending time with Vee. When we first reconnected, we talked and shared meals and wine, and spent a day together. I want more of that with her.
Dammit, why hasn’t she called me?
My concern is doubled because I don’t know what Harley is saying to Vee.
He’s a great kid. Smart, big-hearted, and talented, but he hasn’t always been my easiest child.
He wears his heart on his sleeve which means I am aware of how much he resents baseball and all he believes the sport has taken from him.
Most of all I hate when I tell him I love him, and he replies, yeah, you, too. Like he can’t say the actual phrase back to me. It’s a testament to how much I’ve failed as a father, especially since Patty passed away.
A knuckle rap on my door warns me Kip is ready. I hastily grab my bag off the bed and open the door with a little more gusto than necessary.
“Hey. Ready?” he asks, despite seeing my bag in my hand.
“Yep.” I snap.
Kip staggers backward and blinks once. “Whoa. Easy, Coach.” He raises his hand as if to hold me back.
As the hotel door closes behind me, I start down the hall.
Kip rushes to keep up with me. “Who pissed in your Wheaties this morning?”
“Do people even eat Wheaties anymore?” I ask, like it’s actually an important question.
“Ross?” Kip questions, as if sensing my mood.
“It’s nothing,” I brush him off, pushing the down button between the bank of elevators. “I spoke to Harley this morning.” And I haven’t spoken to Vee yet.
“Kid still giving you trouble?” Kip chuckles, knowing Harley is a good kid, and by trouble standards, I could have it a million times worse than I do.
Still, my son and I are disconnected in a way I can’t seem to bridge.
When Patty died, Rena filled the gap, but she wasn’t his mother.
She’s his aunt. He missed his mom and maybe he even missed me as I was too wrapped up in my own grief and tossing balls to be present like my son needed.
However, Landon doesn’t seem to hold the same resentments toward me as Harley.
Two kids. One household. Yet totally individual experiences and unique personalities.
When Harley decided he wanted to go to DePaul, I took it as a sign for myself. While I’m a native of Philadelphia, Chicago had been our home for eight great years. I wanted to come back to a city with fond memories, even if a few of them were also heartbreaking.
“He’s . . . just Harley.” I sigh.
Kip nods like he understands. He raised kids. He knows the trials and tribulations of being a dad on the road.
Kip claps my shoulder as the elevator doors open and we step inside.
Lately, every elevator ride reminds me of Vee and how we met.
How I was lost in my own head at the devastating championship game, and I hadn’t noticed her in the corner at first. How she was awkward, doing a little bounce with her legs crossed.
How she rushed off once our elevator ride resumed and we were released from the lift.
If that elevator hadn’t stalled, I might have missed out on a chance with Vee. Happenstance.
“What?” Kip asks, and I glance over at him.
“What what?”
“You just chuckled to yourself.”
“I—” I clamp my mouth shut, not wanting to share the finer details of how I met Vee. Kip simply knows I met her on the night the Flash lost, and we slept together, nothing more.
“You’re thinking of her, aren’t you?” Kip interjects.
“Got something to say to me about her?” I arch a brow, needlessly defensive when Kip’s question was innocent enough. I think he’s getting a kick out of watching me struggle with my own emotions and grapple with wanting a relationship with Vee that involves more than a sleeping commitment.
“No issue,” he laughs. “Just enjoying the unflappable Ross Davis flapping. What I’d really like to know, though, is if the superstition factor is out of the equation?”
I sigh and tug my cap off my head, then lower it back down. “Yeah, the superstition is gone.” Even if having Vee back in my life has brought on a few wins.
The elevator stops, and we exit the lift for the lobby while Kip continues.
“What a story. Superstition whisperer to—”
I stop quick and spin on my friend and former mentor. “She’s more than that, okay?” My anger toward him is unwarranted but I’m feeling sensitive about Vee’s status with me. “She’s—” A friend but not a friend-friend, like with benefits.
“Fuck,” I swipe my ball cap off my head again, scratch my scalp and replace the cap. “I’m not certain what she is but I care about her and I’m not going to let her sound less-than when I want her to be more.”
“Okay.” Kip’s eyes widened, as if startled by my outburst. He lifts a hand to ward off my irritation and watches me, his green eyes nearly laughing when he says, “You’re really falling for her, aren’t you?”
Falling? The term is more like I fell. I didn’t see this coming, but somewhere along the way, I tripped, and there was Vee. Sweet, kind, beautiful Vee.
My phone rings and with a quick glance at the caller ID, I’m stepping away from Kip without answering his question.
“Vee?” I exhale, as if I’ve been waiting for her call, which I have.
“Hey, Coach. You okay? You sound a little winded.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
Silence fills the line a second and I take a deep breath, realizing my tone was too sharp.
“Well, I had this amazing breakfast date with a young man who told me all your secrets.”
Fuck! “What did he say?” Again, my tone is sharp.
“What should he have not said?” Vee counters before she laughs. “Relax, all your secrets are safe with you. And the ones you shared with me are still safe with me.”
I exhale and hang my head.
“But now I really am concerned. Is there something you should probably tell me, Ross?” Vee’s voice is a bit more direct and serious.
“No. No, it’s nothing. It’s just . . .” I glance over my shoulder, noticing the team trickling out to our transport to the field. “Harley is a good kid. The best. But he doesn’t think the best of me, and I don’t want him to skew your impression of me.”
“And what impression would that be?”
“That I’m an okay man, but a shitty dad.”
“Ross.” Vee sighs. “You aren’t a shitty dad. You raised a polite young man who has the gift of gab but didn’t spill anything dark. And can pack away some chocolate chip pancakes.”
That’s my Harley.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly do the raising.
Patty did.” The mention of my late wife feels like a dart hitting a board off center and silence drops through the phone between Vee and me.
I really need to go but I don’t want to end our call on this note.
I’ve been wanting to talk to her all morning as we didn’t get a chance to chat last night, and I was hoping for a recap of our talk the other night.
“Sweetheart, I hate to do this, but I’ve got to go.” I glance back at Kip waiting on me just outside the hotel doors.
“Of course. Go, go.”
I can almost imagine her pushing me out the door, maybe smacking my ass like she did back in Arizona. I want those moments again with her.
“Vee, when I get back in town, go out with me.”
“What?” she chuckles, the sound a bit strained.
“I want another date.”
“Okay.” Her voice lowers, the word soft.
“Three nights. Then you’re mine.” The warning sounds salacious but the intent is the same.
I want Vee to myself.
+ + +
The days and nights don’t pass quickly enough before I’m finally at Vee’s front door, picking her up for our date.
I’d wanted her to stay at my place. I would have loved to arrive home and find her there instead of the big, echoing house, that felt empty and a bit lifeless.
However, I understood she didn’t want to overstay her welcome.
She’d gotten lots of words, which was writer speak for her progress in the story.
I’d also have loved to find Harley home. He went to school only fifteen minutes from the house, and yet I rarely saw him between his schedule and mine.
“You look beautiful,” I tell Vee after she opens the door in that way she does, with a swift flourish like she can’t wait to see me. The motion is how I feel about her and everything in me wants to rush forward, kiss her, and suggest we skip our plans.
However, I made a promise to be somewhere important tonight, and I need to show up.
Vee blushes sweetly while stepping back to allow me into her place. I hand over the smaller bouquet of flowers I brought her tonight. In the past, flowers had often been an apology.
I’m sorry I’m late. Sorry I missed dinner. Sorry I missed parent-teacher conferences.
But tonight, a certain joy fills me at gifting Vee flowers, no apology necessary.
“These are lovely. And you look smashing.” She eyes up and down my slacks and jacket.