“That’s great. I love it. Swooped off your high horse by your wife. I’m buying you a drink the next time we go out,” Lane said, eyes on me.
“Sorry. How was I supposed to know our company mowed his lawn?” I said when Paxton held me back a step, slowing our pace. Lane looked over his shoulder and down my body. The dude straight-up checked me out with my hand in my husband’s. Dick.
“My company. This is why you don’t talk when we’re out. Let me do the talking. Shut your mouth. Don’t talk.”
I did shut my mouth for all of five minutes. Tricia and Brant were there, too.
“Oh, I’m so glad you came. You must be going stir crazy,” Tricia said with her butt sliding to the right for me to move in beside her.
Paxton lightly squeezed my hand. My permission to talk. “I am. What are you doing here? I thought your daughter was twelve,” I questioned.
The girl directly in front of me with her thumbs glued to her phone looked back.
“You must be Phoenix.” I smiled. “Sorry.”
“Hey! Can I do my health report on you?” she exclaimed like the brilliant idea had just popped into her head.
“Phoenix!” Brant scolded.
“What? It’s a great idea.”
“No, it’s not. Gabriella has been through enough. Do it on someone else.”
“Ugh. Who? It’s not like I know anyone else who’s had an illness to report about.”
“Call your Grandma Kate. She’s got all kinds of illnesses,” Brant offered with a grunt after taking an elbow to the ribs from Tricia.
I laughed, assuming it was her mother. And once again the grip got tighter.
I listened to the conversation between the women and men, wondering why they were all there. It wasn’t Friday night football. It was five- to seven-year-old tee-ball.
It didn’t take long to figure it out. Four teams played that Saturday morning, all with the logos of their own companies. The banter going between the three men explained it all. They were there to spread their tail feathers, boast each of their team’s win, and rub in their victory. None of them were there for the game.
Shayla and her husband Mark joined us next. Mark joined right in.
“Ready to lose today, sucker?” Mark asked with an extended hand. Paxton removed his death grip from me and shook Mark’s hand. “How are you, Gabriella?”
“I don’t remember,” I joked. Paxton took my hand again. Geesh. It was a joke. Everyone else thought it was funny. I shut up and turned my attention to the girls. Rowan stood on the back of the bench, climbing up the fence. Ophelia sat in the dirt, trying like hell to tie her shoe. Nobody came to either of their rescues. The coach was too busy talking in a circle, flipping pages on a clipboard.
“Hey,” I quietly said as the talk continued around us. Paxton squeezed my hand, shushing me. It pissed me off that time. Had I always been this timid? I let go of his hand and stepped off the bleachers with a hiss. Damn, that hurt. I walked away from him and the male egos, limping toward the dugout.
Rowan was halfway up the fence by the time I got to her. High enough to break a bone if she fell the right way.
“Hey, how about you get down from there,” I said from the other side of the fence.
“There’s a bird nest. I think it has eggs,” Rowan countered, still climbing.
“Down, Rowan. Now,” I ordered in a stern tone. It felt natural for me to discipline her in a motherly fashion. By the time I had moved around to her side of the fence, she was hopping down. I winked at her with a smile for listening.
“I can’t bend to you, but if you go sit on the bleachers, I’ll help you tie your shoe,” I said to Ophelia with a hand shielding my eyes from the sun.
“Okay,” Ophelia agreed with bright eyes. Just as I had gotten to the bleachers with her, the coach called them in for a huddle.
“I have a go now, Mommy,” she worried.
The shoe-tying lesson was cut short by the coach. I quickly tied her shoe and hobbled back to my husband and those people. My neighbors. My friends. My life. Paxton’s eyes were right on me, but they weren’t angry like I was expecting. They were. Hmmm. Star-struck. I don’t know, it was…weird. Peculiar. Lane’s eyes did the same thing. His stare was directed right at me. Creepy.
“You should have said something. I didn’t see her,” Paxton said from my side.
“I know. Shhh, Rowan’s up,”
I have no idea who won. The guys bickered back and forth about it, but there was really no way to keep score. There wasn’t even a way to keep the kids in their right places. Their attention spans were three seconds long. Both teams even huddled together once. Cutest thing ever.
Ophelia was supposed to be tending to the outfield. She found a lizard and everyone had to see. Both teams. The opposing coach picked it up by its tail and carried it off the field.
I wasn’t really quiet during the so-called game either, but in my defense, it was only when one of my girls were up that I said anything. The first yell was through a makeshift horn, using my hands.
“Come on, Row-row. You’ve got this.”
“Gabriella, stop it,” Paxton ordered through a teeth-clamped whisper in my ear.
His eyes weren’t the only surprised eyes. Everyone looked at me like I had two heads. The whole gang. I cowered and shut up. Evidently, I wasn’t that mom. I didn’t cheer my kids on during sports.
There must have been something up with my short-term memory, as well. I did it again when Ophelia hit the ball from the tee, sending it to left field, right past the two little boys not paying attention.
“Run, Phi. Run!” I screamed. She looked back to me, dropped the bat, and hauled ass, all the way to first base, and then to third. She totally skipped over second, but she didn’t care. She still cheered waving her arms and jumping up and down. Touch down, touch down, touch down. I laughed so hard my gut hurt. Thank God everyone else did, too. That helped take the pressure off me.
I still have no idea who won the game. There was too much chaos to even try to keep track of the score. My little Phi got a half a run. That’s all I cared about.
Chapter Nine
I actually had a great day. We had lunch from a food-truck, and ate it at the park. We watched the girls practice youth golf. Although I think I laughed more than anything. Even through their constant bickering, they were cute.
By three in the afternoon, neither of them could be touched, spoken to, or talked about. Just the mention of their name would send them into a bawling spree. Naps were something I quickly learned not to bypass. They needed them, especially Ophelia. That girl was evil without a nap. Rowan wasn’t nearly as bad.
Mommy needed one, too. I was in pain, but not excruciating. I think it was more from not using the crutches and from sitting on the hard bleachers. As soon as both girls were down in bed, I went to the sofa and plopped to my back with a heavy sigh. I didn’t care what Paxton said. The bulky boot around my ankle had to go.
I lifted my leg with a painful grunt and pulled the strap. Paxton sat at the foot of me and did it for me.
“You should leave this on,” he said in a disapproving tone as he slipped it off. His hands ran around my sore ankle, soothing it with his touch.
“Aahh, it hurts,” I whined while rolling to my side.
“That’s because you didn’t use your crutches. I don’t think you should go tonight.”
“Go where?” I questioned with closed eyes. I just needed to rest for a minute.
“Shayla and Mark’s cookout? Remember, I just told you about it this morning.”
He didn’t tell me who was having it, not that it mattered. I didn’t really care. “Okay, I’d rather not go, anyway. I don’t really fit in with them,” I admitted with my eyes closed.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s fine. You can go without me.” It was fine. All I cared about was how exhausted I felt. The whole day out may have been a bit much. I was toast.