Chapter Eighteen
Chase mulled over his father’s words for several days. He regretted that he hadn’t been as forthcoming as he should have been. Even as an adult, a part of him hated disappointing Simon.
Troubled by his lack of honesty, he entered his father’s office, and after their usual business talk, Chase said, “I wasn’t completely honest the other night when you mentioned Astrid.”
His father’s brows arched with what looked like surprise.
“It’s true we aren’t in love, and it’s doubtful that will change.
I believe she doesn’t want to disappoint her parents any more than I want to disappoint you.
I don’t know if she’s said anything to her parents yet, but I felt you should know it’s over between us.
Don’t misunderstand me, I’m fond of Astrid.
We’re good friends, but that’s all we are.
On the surface we’re well suited, but our relationship never evolved deeper.
On her part or on mine. I have no intention of marrying her.
” The relief he felt setting the matter straight was instantaneous.
Chase had worked hard to follow in Simon’s footsteps when it came to being a responsible and successful businessman.
But he refused to marry a woman he didn’t love because his father felt she was the one for him.
At times Simon was difficult to read, but never more than after Chase’s announcement. Chase had expected some form of censure, more questions. Some comments, at least. He got nothing.
What shook Chase was that if he hadn’t met Maisy, he might actually have given in to the pressure. There was a lot to be said for the union of the two families, even though it would be grossly unfair to them both.
As they so often did, his thoughts drifted to Maisy. His nightly chats with her had become the highlight of his day. He couldn’t wait to get home so they could connect. This had never happened to him before. Looking up, Chase noticed his father studying him.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” He’d expected a response.
“It’s that woman in Seattle, isn’t it?”
Chase didn’t feel it was necessary to deny or confirm his relationship with Maisy. “She has nothing to do with this decision. I’ve known for a long time that Astrid and I weren’t right for each other.”
His father’s reaction was slow. After what felt like an eternity, Simon nodded. “My only hope is that you know what you’re doing. Don’t give your heart away too soon.”
“I won’t,” he assured his father, although the way he felt about Maisy was stronger than the way he’d felt about any other woman he’d ever dated.
Chase left his father’s office and returned to his own.
No sooner had he taken a seat at his desk when Tristen delivered the day’s mail.
On the top of the pile was a hand-addressed envelope in what appeared to be a child’s handwriting.
Chase waited until Tristen had left before he reached for the handwritten letter.
He smiled when he saw it was from Maisy’s brother, Patrick.
Dear Mr. Furst,
My mom said I shouldn’t call you Chase even though that’s how I think of you. Thank you for the baseball mitt. It’s the best one ever. All my friends said so. It helps me catch better. Even Coach noticed.
The coach hasn’t picked the player for first base yet. That’s the position I want really bad. It’s between me and Jayson. I think I’d do better than he would, but Mom said that if I wanted to play sports, I had to listen to what Coach said and be happy no matter what. Sean said the same thing.
I know Sean and Maisy were upset that you bought me the glove. They knew it was from you even without the card. I heard them talking. Sean was more unhappy than Maisy. I think it was because he wanted to buy me a new glove but couldn’t afford one until after payday.
Maisy said you sent the mitt because you like to be kind to people. I think that’s a good thing to be no matter what. I decided to be kind to Jayson if Coach chooses him to play first base even though I’ll be sad on the inside.
No matter what anyone says, I’m really excited about my new mitt and want to thank you even if you would rather remain anonymous…rather not let anyone know.
Your friend for life,
Patrick Gallagher
Chase read the letter and couldn’t keep a smile off his face. He wondered if Maisy knew her brother had contacted him. Perhaps not. If she did know, she’d chosen to remain silent so it would be a surprise.
His good mood lasted the entire day, thanks in large part to the letter from Patrick.
The relief he felt having talked to his father about Astrid had also lifted a heavy weight from his shoulders.
He left the office earlier than usual because he was eager to speak to Maisy.
Rather than waste time cooking a meal, he ordered Uber Eats and waited until the delivery arrived from his favorite Chinese restaurant before he reached for his phone.
Maisy answered after the first ring.
“Chase,” she said, and seemed excited, conveying her mood in a single word. “I have wonderful news.”
“Tell me,” he said, grinning like a schoolboy at her enthusiasm.
“It’s not my news, it’s Patrick’s. I’ll get him for you.”
He heard her open her bedroom door. Next came the sound of her shouting for her younger brother. Patrick must have been downstairs, as pounding footsteps echoed through the phone.
“Is it Chase?” Patrick asked, sounding breathless.
“It is,” Maisy assured him. “Here’s my phone.”
“Chase, Chase, guess what?” Patrick cried, with such happiness that it was all Chase could do not to laugh.
He had a fairly good idea what the boy’s big news was. However, far be it for him to take away Patrick’s pleasure in saying it himself.
“I haven’t got a single guess,” he said.
Patrick drew in a deep breath, as if he wanted to shout the news to the entire world. “Coach picked me to play first base. We have our first game on Saturday and…and Jayson even said I deserved the position more than he did.”
“Your friend is a good sport, then, right?”
“Right. I would have been a good sport, too, if Coach chose Jayson instead of me, because that’s the right thing to do. On the inside, though, I would have been disappointed. I think Jayson is disappointed on the inside, too.”
“I’m happy for you,” Chase said. “Tell me about your game this Saturday.”
Patrick gleefully filled in the details.
“We’re playing against the Raptors and they’re a really good team.
They won first place last year and they have a lot of the same players on the team this year.
Our team is new. Coach is new, too. He does a good job, though.
He played baseball in college, which means he knows his stuff, don’t you think? ”
“I do. What’s the name of your team?” Chase asked.
“We’re the Tigers. We voted on the name and decided on that one, because we plan on eating up the wins this season.”
“Good luck on Saturday.”
“Thanks, Chase, I mean Mr. Furst.” He seemed to hold his hand over the side of the phone as he spoke in a loud whisper. “Did you get my letter?”
“I did,” Chase assured him.
“Mom said I should write and thank you and gave me the address. She didn’t need to remind me because I would have done it anyway. My new mitt helps me a lot. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Patrick.”
“I’ll give the phone back to Maisy now. She could have told you the news herself, but I wanted to do it, and she said she’d let me.”
Chase heard Maisy’s bedroom door close as Patrick left.
Maisy was back on the line then.
“I’ve never seen Patrick more excited,” she said. “Mom picked him up after practice and said he was like a jumping bean in the car all the way home.”
“I’m happy for Patrick.”
“We all are. He wanted that position more than any other. The only reason I can think why it was important is that both our father and Sean played first base in Little League. I guess you could say it’s a Gallagher family tradition.
Either way, I’m convinced the new glove helped, and we have you to thank for that, even… ”
“Even though you’d rather I hadn’t sent it.”
“Right,” she agreed, and quickly diverted the subject. “Now tell me what act of kindness you practiced today.”
This was how most of their conversations started. Maisy wanted to learn what he had done to pay it forward and he was always delighted to tell her.
“Remember the homeless man I mentioned?”
“Yes, you’ve been buying breakfast for him every morning. Is he talking to you yet?”
Chase wanted to help the man, get him off the streets and into a job so he could support himself. But he refused to do more than mumble a few unintelligible words when Chase brought him food. Because he didn’t know his name, Chase had dubbed him Guy.
“I tried again to involve Guy in conversation, and as usual, he ignored my attempt. He still refuses to give me his real name. So I told him that I’d given him one instead. I’m calling him Guy.”
“Guy?”
“Yeah. He seemed to find that humorous. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile.
It’s all about building up trust. I believe he’ll talk to me soon.
I want to help him transition off the street, but unfortunately, I can’t do that until he’s willing to talk to me and make certain changes in his behavior. ”
“I hope it’s soon.”
“I do, too, but it seems like it’s going to take a lot of time and patience.” There were any number of positions open in the Furst building—and if not there, then elsewhere—that would give Guy a fresh start if he was willing. To this point, he wasn’t.