Chapter 4 Nate
FOUR
nate
I swallowed back my frustration as I listened to Olivia talk about Cooper’s dad’s involvement—or lack of involvement—in her son’s life.
I hoped Cooper never noticed his dad wasn’t interested in his life, because when I finally made the math work for that equation—oof, that hurt.
My mom had covered for my dad for as long as possible, but there came a time when there was no hiding what he’d become.
She had always blamed the booze, but even in the brief periods he’d been sober, he hadn’t given a single fuck.
He cared more about whether Mom had cooked his steak to the right temp than whether I came home from school.
There were too many shitty men in this world, and I planned to take their examples and do the exact opposite.
“He was supposed to be here this afternoon,” Olivia said.
Austin sighed. “Well, maybe he’s just late.”
As if on cue, Cooper’s attention flashed to a truck skidding to a stop in the parking lot, and a smile brightened his face. It wavered and dropped as the man got out of the vehicle, head buried in his phone, barely acknowledging his son.
Oh, he saw it. My chest squeezed painfully, remembering the years of searching the crowd for my father. The few times he showed up, he’d been drunk and caused a scene with my mother. He’d then accused Mom of sleeping with one of my best friends’ fathers and earned himself a fist to the teeth.
I remembered back to when I told my father I got drafted.
“How much money did they give you?”
Of course, it was always about money for him. But if it had been that important, why the fuck had he never done anything to earn some himself? Thank God for Coach Dobbs; without him, I never would have had an agent watching out for me. Shit, I might never have gone into the draft.
“Enough.”
“Let me guess, you’re giving all of it to that lazy good - for - nothing mother of yours?”
That had always been his way; he insulted my mother at every opportunity.
I heard it all. Excuse after excuse. But what he missed was that while he was unpredictable and reliably unreliable, she showed up for me.
She mended her work scrubs, picked up extra shifts as a CNA to buy my sneakers, and paid for my summer camps and travel teams. So yes, I used my signing bonus to put her in a small house in a gated community.
She didn’t have to ask me for anything because I would give her everything.
My mother would never have to worry about money again, God willing. She deserved the world, and if it was me who made it happen—I was ready to do it. I just needed to keep my focus on the game.
I shook off the memory and focused on Jason, Cooper’s dad, as he grinned at his phone. And when the next ball was hit towards Coop, he bobbled it, recovered, and threw wide to first base, resulting in an error as the batter took an extra base.
Shit. The ten-year-old boy I once was cringed inside, remembering all the times I wanted my dad to approve of me.
Of course, that was the first time Jason bothered to acknowledge his son, and the fucker looked embarrassed.
He had no right to be embarrassed by his son’s error.
Cooper shouldn’t even feel embarrassed about it.
I fumed; my hands itching to smack the phone out of Jason’s hand and demand he pay attention to his son. Sizing him up, Jason wasn’t a big guy, and if he was taking part in anything moderately athletic, it was probably a half-assed workout or two at the local ten-dollar-a-month gym.
You learn to field the ball by doing it, over and over again.
With every error you make, you learn. Cooper learned more from that gaffed play than if he’d been flawless at every outing.
I couldn’t even count the number of errors I made along the way.
Shit, I still made errors. I made a mental note to spend some time working with Cooper to show him how to block out the noise.
Yeah, a crowd got you pumped, but they could also frazzle the shit out of you.
“How do you not punch him?” I asked Austin. Olivia shot a glance over to the parents sitting near us, checking to see if they’d heard my question. No, ma’am, I was a master at speaking under my breath, learned that when hiding from dear old drunk dad.
“Cooper loves him. Whether he deserves it or not, the day Coop gives me permission, I’m clocking him.” Olivia gave Austin a soft punch on the arm, a weak protest against the threat to her ex. “At least you learned.”
“I was 19 and stupid. Live and learn.”
Ouch. Is that what she thought of me? Young and dumb? This would be an uphill climb.
Cooper came to bat in the bottom of the ninth.
He’d made it on base in all of his previous at-bats, a combination of some solid hits and a walk.
When he connected with the ball and drove it out of the park, I couldn’t help it; I was on my feet cheering as loud as Austin and Olivia.
It took a few seconds, but shitbag finally got to his feet, just in time for Cooper to miss his delayed reaction.
It was easy to be happy and supportive when your kid hit the game-winning home run, but man, it was so much more powerful when a parent was there to coach you through the struggles.
While I hadn’t seen enough of Jason and Cooper to strike a comparison between him and my father, he’d definitely waved enough red flags.
“Now let’s see if he takes him tonight or claims he’s too busy,” Olivia muttered under her breath.
Cooper came flying off the field after he and his teammates celebrated their win in a pile of boys, jumping up and down, cheering as if they had brought home the pennant. He threw himself at his father, who had conveniently stood closest to the field.
When the boy made it over to us, Olivia hugged him quickly, and I noted Cooper shied away from public affection from his mother.
Typical of a 10-year-old boy, but fuck it if I didn’t wish I could go back and smack my own 10-year-old self for putting my mother through the same evidence of pain that flickered across Olivia’s face.
“What do you say we celebrate with some pizza?” Jason asked.
I watched Cooper’s face brighten with excitement and knew he’d be heading home with his father tonight.
Austin and I stayed out of the way as Olivia and Cooper transferred his overnight bag from her car to Jason’s.
Coop gave his mom a quick glance and then jumped into his father’s truck without even a wave goodbye.
She trudged back to her car, and the two of us followed. Is this what my mother felt? Defeated? Alone?
“You guys hungry?” she asked.
“I could eat,” I said, brightening at the thought of a hot meal after the drama that unfolded at first Austin’s house and now the ballpark.
“You can always eat. Livvie, don’t let this kid eat all your food. We’ll cover the grocery bill while we’re here.”
“I don’t feel like cooking. I had burgers prepped just in case Jason flubbed it again. How about some Mexican food?” she asked.
“Sounds perfect. Tequila?” Austin said.
“Do you have your license, kid?” Olivia asked.
I bit back the embarrassment. “Yeah. I’m 19, almost 20. I’ve been driving since I was fifteen. I’m a good designated driver if y’all are looking to tie one on.”
When we got to the restaurant, I stuffed my face with tacos and gave Austin and his sister the chance to bitch about their exes. And when I pulled into Olivia’s garage, she stumbled out of the car into my arms. Her baby blues darted to mine, and she giggled.
“Did I tell you how adorable that Southern accent is?”
Austin rolled his eyes but was too drunk to see that his sister was now fully in my arms.
“Well, that tough-as-nails Boston accent is cute as hell too, little thing.”
She snorted. “Little thing, my ass.” And with that, she pushed herself away from me. “You guys fight among yourselves over your room. I’m going to bed.”
About an hour later, when I was settled in one of the spare bedrooms, I had the urge to text my mother.
Me: Hey, Ma, guess what?
Mom: What?
Me: I met the girl I’m gonna marry.
Mom: When will I get to meet her?
Me: Soon.
Soon, all I needed was Olivia to come to the same understanding, and we’d be golden.