Mateo
Chapter nine
"When does she start?" Dad asks. He leans back against the counter, arms crossed, and pins me with that look. The one all dads have when they think something's a bad idea.
"Monday."
"Do you really think it's a good idea?"
And boom, there it is.
"What's a good idea?" Mom asks, joining us in the kitchen, rolling her small suitcase behind her.
Neither of us answers.
"I'm ready to go when you are," she tells Dad.
"You're walking a dangerous line, kid," he says. Kid. He hasn't called me that in years, fucking decades. It should make me think twice. But it doesn't.
"What do you need an assistant for anyway?" he asks. "I'll tell you. You don't. You've got a bleeding heart like your mother."
"And you," I say.
He gives me a half-smile.
"She's Addie's best friend," Mom adds, reading the room for what it is.
"She needed a job, and I needed an assistant. That's all this is," I say, standing from the stool. I'm moving pretty well today, and it feels good to be on both feet.
"If you say so," Dad says. "But I think you should take the blinders off and look at the complete picture."
I raise my brow.
"She's got a tough exterior, but inside she's fragile." Mom answers the question I didn't voice. "She needs stability and healing. And honey, I love you, but your track record with women is a little…" She makes a face but doesn't finish the sentence.
Is my mom calling me out right now?
"Like I said, I need an assistant, she needs a job; that's it."
"You've never been a good liar," Mom says.
"What the fuck?"
"Remember you two won't be the only ones affected if things…" Dad trails off and sighs, resigned.
"I can't with you guys," I say. "Have a nice trip. Say hi to Uncle Frank and everyone."
Mom purses her lips, and I give her a kiss on the cheek. Then I hug Dad and half walk, half hobble to the recliner to wait for Coop to wander back downstairs.
The physical therapist wants me to try harder to bear partial weight but it's difficult. I've been trying every chance I get, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't nerve wracking.
By the time I get settled, Mom and Dad are pulling out of the driveway, and I'm left to my own devices and entertainment while Addie and Jade get ready to leave. I'm not sure what Cooper is doing up there with them, but every once in a while his laughter filters down the stairs.
Instead of twiddling my thumbs, I shoot off a text to Kyler, asking how dad life is treating him.
I haven't talked to him since he texted about the baby being born a few weeks ago.
We used to text almost daily, but I guess life changes, and so do friendships.
What's that saying? Every friendship has a season?
Guess ours was baseball season, because twenty minutes later, my text remains unread.
He's busy; it's cool. He's most likely changing a diaper or enjoying a rare dinner with his wife.
We discussed him retiring this year too, but at thirty-two, we both knew he still had a few years left at second base.
I don't know if he said it to make me feel less alone, or if he legitimately considered it, but either way, he negotiated a new contract.
With the season done, he's home enjoying some time off with his growing family.
Meanwhile, I'm collecting dust.
I'm a forgotten knick-knack. An old, chipped glass statue hidden behind a shiny new picture.
It's not Kyler, it's everything. It's being broken and living with my parents.
It's being retired while my friends continue to play a game I once thought I couldn't live without.
It's being alone because I have high expectations about love.
Existing, I'm merely existing.
Maybe I have been for years, and it's only now that I'm seeing it.
I didn't see how my lifestyle and my checklist for my future would affect my life beyond baseball.
Play baseball for a Division I school. Check.
Rookie with the Rebellion, like Dad. Check.
Win Rookie of the Year. Check.
Hit a walk-off in the postseason. Check. Check. Check.
Win the Championship Series. Check. Check.
What comes after that?
Nothing.
This.
A family was on the list at one point, but I removed it a long time ago. Surface-level relationships will do that. It's my own fault. I have a checklist. It's only composed of two things, but no woman has ever had both.
A woman who keeps me on my toes, like Abuela did with Abuelo. And a woman who keeps me grounded, like Mom does for Dad.
So I stopped trying and focused on everything else instead.
I realize now it was the wrong move.
Life after baseball isn't what I expected.
I turn on the TV but mute it when three voices filter down the stairs singing along to "I'm Just a Kid". The girls are way off-key, but surprisingly, Cooper can carry a tune. Jade should put him in music lessons. I bet it would help with school, and he's probably a fucking prodigy.
Twenty minutes later, I'm absolutely not sucked into another season of American Love Abroad when he wanders down and plops onto the couch.
"Can I ask you something?" he asks, his brows furrowed.
"What's up, punk?"
I've been trying not to call him punk when Jade's around. But Coop said he liked it, and it's hard to break the habit.
"What's a one-night stand?"
I choke on air.
Fucking air.
"What's the context?" I finally ask him. Figure it's better to find out what he thinks he knows and build off that before Jade murders me for telling him the truth.
"Addie told Mom they should have one-night stands tonight, that it's been too long."
"It's a drink," I blurt. Too quickly?
He stares at me while I count the seconds.
"Can we order pizza soon?" he asks.
My heart resumes its normal rhythm.
Until a sweet yet tangy scent with impossibly long legs covered in black tights drifts down the stairs. On her feet? Her heeled shit-kickers. The tights lead up to a short black skirt. And the icing on the cake. The worn Metallica shirt tucked into her waistband.
"Did you hear me?" she asks. She hovers over me, like the storm cloud she is, hands on her hips. When I finally drag my eyes up to her face, she's annoyed.
"We know it's a school night, Mom," Cooper says.
Nice save, kid.
"Yeah, pizza, beer, and eleven p.m. bedtime," I say, holding out my fist to him. He bumps it.
Jade rolls her eyes and points to him. "You're in charge."
"You look really pretty, Mom," Cooper says.
"She looks hot as fuck," Addie says, walking past Jade in a much too short dress.
Jade toys with the ring in her lip.
"Come on." Addie leans on the wall at the entryway to the living room and taps her foot. "Ride is here."
"I'm right behind you," Jade replies. "Coop, why don't you grab the pizza menu for Mateo?"
She waits until they're both out of earshot before turning her attention back to me.
"Thank you," she says.
"For what?"
"My signing bonus was deposited this morning."
I shrug. "Thought you'd like to relax a little on your birthday."
"And for the job and watching Coop," she says, rushing the words out as if it's painful.
"Go have some fun, Jade. You only turn twenty-five once."
Her lips twist into a half smile, and she walks away.
"Happy birthday," I call after her.
Cooper is asleep in the guest bedroom upstairs, an alarm set on his phone for school, and I'm once again left to my own thoughts.
I fluff my pillow and try to get comfortable, but it's difficult when I can't stop thinking about the half-smile Jade gave me. Does that mean I'm chipping away at her cold exterior? What did Mom mean, she's fragile? Are her sharp edges invisible to everyone but me?
I check my phone. Still no text from Kyler, but there is one from Aria.
Aria
Hey babe, need a nurse?
For the life of me, I can't remember an Aria.
A few minutes of scrolling through InASnap and she remains a mystery. Guess she was worth adding to my contacts, but that's where it ended. I stop looking for her and find Addie's profile.
How is it possible Jade is twenty-five and has zero social media presence? It's odd. I guess I could text her. That's appropriate, right?
He asked me what a one-night stand was tonight.
Storm Cloud
…
I told him it was a drink FYI
Storm Cloud
Thanks
Yup.
Yup?
Smooth, Mateo.