Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Hayes
After reading Monroe a story, she instructs me on every step involved in putting her to bed.
She tells me how to turn on her nightlight and tuck her in tightly, even though the sheets will end up on the floor by morning according to her.
Then I have to check in her closet and under her bed, even though she insists she’s old enough to know that monsters aren’t real.
It makes me wonder—at what stage of life do we lose that? When do we stop being so open about what we need? At some point, we expect people to intuitively understand our feelings and guess what our needs are, and when they don’t guess correctly, we think they’re not the one for us.
Monroe is an amazing little girl. I’m impressed by her dedication to go three hundred sixty-five days with that National Days calendar, and I’m rooting for her to finish it. At the same time, I can’t imagine how Leighton will handle it.
I walk out to the hall, slowly shutting the door, but when I turn around, I startle for a second. Lake stands in her doorway as if she were waiting for me.
“Did you need something?” I ask.
She crosses her arms and stares at me. Preteens are scary. They’re a horror movie franchise just waiting to be made. “What’s your, like, gameplay here?”
I swear she’s eleven going on twenty-five.
“Gameplay?” I ask, shutting Monroe’s door all the way.
“Yeah. Why are you here?”
I get it. Although she and Leighton probably go to war with each other—and will go to war many more times—Lake’s protective of her.
She doesn’t want me to take advantage of her aunt.
Or whatever the technical term for their relationship is, since Sky and Leighton were actual cousins but always like sisters.
“I’m just here to help.”
“Yeah, but like, because you want something.”
I tilt my head, wondering where she’d get that thought at such a young age. “I don’t want anything from her.”
“Okay, well, you know she can do it on her own, right?”
“My sister is her best friend,” I say. “Callie’s out of town, so I’m just helping while she’s away at work, that’s all.”
“And then you’re gonna leave?” There’s more bite in her tone now.
“I don’t know if I’m gonna leave. I mean, I probably won’t be around as much because Callie will be here.”
“Yeah. I figured. Well, good luck with your season then. Bye.” She turns around and shuts her bedroom door.
I guess whatever I said isn’t what she wanted to hear.
I walk toward the staircase, but on my way, I pass Lincoln’s room—and I overhear Leighton talking to him.
“Daddy was going to be the coach. This is the first year he was going to have time to do it. Everybody else’s dads are coaches. I wanted my dad to be the coach.” There’s so much hurt and confusion in his voice that my chest constricts painfully.
With everything else, I’d forgotten he’d asked me. I wanted to say yes and make that little guy’s night, but that’s a pipe dream.
“I know, Linc, but we can’t ask that of Hayes.
He’s way too busy. With his schedule, it’s just impossible.
” I hear her blow out a breath. “I’m sorry, but you can’t ask him again.
It’s us now, just the four of us. I know that’s really tough to hear, and I know you miss your mom and dad, but you can depend on me. ”
My temple rests on the wall, hating that there’s truth in her words. I can’t be here all the time. I can’t coach his baseball team. I can’t be who she needs, and I’m not sure I ever could.
“Would you want me to coach?” she asks.
Fuck, Leighton, what are you thinking?
“What do you know about baseball?”
I have to bite my lip from laughing.
“Hey, I know a lot about baseball,” Leighton says.
It’s in her tone—she so desperately wants to do anything and everything to make these kids not miss one opportunity. But how can she, when she’s working and trying to juggle everything else? Then she’s going to add on rec league coach too?
“The dads usually do it,” Lincoln says.
Wrong response, buddy.
“Well, I don’t care if it’s the dads who do it—I’m gonna do it. So where do I go? The park district? Where do I sign you up?”
And just as I predicted, Lincoln gave her a little challenge, and now she wants to show the male coaches what she’s got. It’s a quality I admire.
“It’s fine. I’ll be on Jimmy’s team again. His dad likes me. He plays me.”
“No, I’m happy to do it. It will be fun.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Okay.” She stands and bends down to kiss his forehead. “Good night. I’m really proud of you for doing your math homework. Was Hayes a lot of help?”
I feel bad that I’m standing outside the door eavesdropping, but I’m not moving now that they’re going to talk about me.
“Yeah, he helped a little bit. But he was trying to teach me a different way than what my teacher does.”
That new math shit can suck my balls.
“Yeah, well, that’s because the way they do math now sucks. Oh shit—don’t—oh god, don’t repeat either of those words.”
He giggles at her cursing. “Good night, Leighton.”
“Good night, sweetie.”
She tucks him in, and she doesn’t have to be instructed on all the steps like I did because these kids have been a part of her life for a long time.
I tiptoe down the stairs, trying to hide the fact that I was listening.
I’d love to be Lincoln’s coach. I enjoy helping kids, trying to make them better, to make them happy. Especially kids who have just lost their parents. But I don’t see how I can do it without disappointing him. I’d instantly fail because there’s no way to squeeze that into my schedule.
I walk down the stairs, my feet landing on that fucking third-from-the-bottom step that squeaks. “Damn it.”
Leighton’s laugh rings out from the top of the stairs.