Blake (Season One: The Ninth Inning #2) (9 page)

“It’s probably a good thing.” My phone rings. I pull it from my pocket to see Mom’s name on the caller ID. “Excuse me for a second.” I walk outside because I don’t want them overhearing my conversation. “Mom? Everything okay?”

“Could you come over, Blake?”

“Yeah, I’ll come over. Are you okay?”

“Yes, just c’mon before he gets back.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes or less.” Shit. I don’t know what things are like, but hopefully, not too bad since he’s left her alone for a bit. After hanging up, I go back inside, pulling money from my wallet and laying it on the table. “Sorry, Sofia, I gotta go. Let’s go, Hector.”

“Why do you always get a call when I’m about to eat pizza?” Hector asks, pissing me off.

“Shut the hell up and let’s go.”

Sofia looks worried, but I ignore it. Once I drop Hector off at my house, I drive over to my parents’.

“Mom?” I call out as I enter the house.

“In his office.”

When I walk into the room, she’s kneeling on the floor, trying to pick up pieces of glass with shaky hands. There’s broken glass everywhere it seems. A few sheets of paper, pens, and two baseballs are on the floor as well. I rush to Mom and help her stand up.

“I’ll get it, Mom. What happened?” I lead her over to a chair and make her sit.

“He’s been drinking, and I walked into his office to ask him a question. I didn’t knock first,” she answers.

“And what? He started throwing things at you?” She nods. The baseballs on the floor brings back bad memories and my stomach churns. “Did he manage to hit you with anything?”

Mom keeps her gaze down on the mess. “He can still pitch like a pro even when he’s drunk.”

Son of a bitch. I crouch and lift her face, wanting her to look at me. “Are you okay?” I ask for what feels like the millionth time.

“I’ll be fine. I just needed help cleaning up.” Mom gives me a small smile.

“Alright. You stay put and I’ll do it.” Once she nods in agreement, I leave for the kitchen, so I can grab the broom and dust pan. She asked me not to push him and I haven’t. What’s the point? He’s still hitting her anyway.

As I start sweeping up the glass, I take advantage of us being alone. “When did he start drinking today?”

“Around eleven.”

“Is it daily again?”

“You don’t need to worry so much, son,” she says quietly.

“If you don’t want me to worry, then you should think about leaving. If you weren’t here with him, I wouldn’t worry.” I wait for her to say something, but she only points to some glass I missed. “Do you want any ice or something for the pain? How close were you when he threw the balls?”

“I’m fine, Blake. Just hurry up and finish.”

I soften my voice, stop sweeping, and look at her. “I’m not him, you know. You can tell me if it hurts. I know it does. And we both know if you’re going to do something to ease the pain, you need to do it before he comes back.” Jack usually keeps a close eye on her to make sure she doesn’t take any pain meds or does anything that could make her feel better.

“You’re nothing like your father, Blake. I know that.”

When she doesn’t offer anything more, I finish cleaning and put everything back in its place. Mom walks me to the door and I kiss her cheek.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we’ll go to lunch, alright?”

“I can’t wait.” She gives me a bright smile before pushing me out the door. Jack wouldn’t let me help clean up any messes as a kid and we both know he’d flip his shit if he caught me here helping her.

As I drive home, I wonder if Mom would be okay with me kidnapping her and forcing her to leave him. I don’t know how much longer I can stand by and do nothing.

I STEP OFF the bus and notice that Blake still hasn’t looked at me. I sent a few texts, but have only gotten cold, empty responses. I know he had to go to his mom, and now the steel wall is back. I’m not sure how many times I can keep breaking through before I can’t anymore.

No, I must not give up on him. I’ve made a lot of strides and I’m not giving up. Although, when I told Harmony, she hoped he was
hung
well, that way
I
wouldn’t be so grumpy. Her new nickname for me almost makes me smile because it’s what Hector calls Blake.

I kick at the hotel room door because the damn card key is stuck. After growling at it for another minute, it finally opens.

“Jerk,” I hiss at the door. Damn, I am grumpy. As I unpack, my mother calls me. Even though I’m not in the best of moods, Mom might help me out.

“Sofia, where are you?”

“California for two days and then Texas. I told you on Sunday.”

“Oh, I forgot. I need to talk to you about the Children’s Hospital auction.”

“Auction? When did it become an auction?”

“Judy came up with the idea. Isn’t it brilliant?” My mom almost squeals in my ear, causing me to pull the phone away.

“That sounds fun. Why do you need to talk to me?”

“Will you auction yourself off?”

“Wait...what?” I couldn’t have heard her correctly. “What?” I repeat.

“Usually, people auction off memorabilia or some silly trip, but Judy thought about the most eligible and pretty women of Memphis. Someone will purchase you and have a date with you. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

“That sounds like the worst thing to ever happen in my life.” I’m in shock. “I thought that the Women’s Society was supposed to promote women, not traffic them.”

“Auction,” my mom corrects me. “And it’s for a good cause.”

I groan and fall onto the bed. “Are you even going to give me a choice on this?”

“Well,” she pauses for a second. “No, because your sister already signed up, and I wrote you down too. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet your future husband?”

“I’m hanging up, Mom. I love you.” I end the call before I say something rude to her.

I send a text to Harmony telling her that I don’t want to be auctioned off, and I don’t care if it’s for a good cause. I’ll just donate the money if that’s the issue.

Harmony: Mom said you’re doing it. Are you going to argue with her?

I roll my eyes at the phone. She’s right; there’s no point in trying to argue with Vivian Gardner. Dad doesn’t even try to do that.

I flip through the TV channels, but there’s nothing on. I’m thinking about texting Blake, but there’s a knock on my door.

“Hey.” I stare up at the most stunning hazel eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“There’s a bar and grill nearby. Want to go?”

“Really?” I’m taken aback that he wants to hang out with me.

“Yes.”

“Sure. I’d love to.” I grab my purse and follow him to the elevator. He’s quiet and I’m not sure why he even reached out to me. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright. You?”

I scoff. “Do you really want to hear me bitching about stuck card keys and my mother?”

“That would be great, actually. Bitch away.” We step into an empty elevator.

“Well, it started with the stubborn card key that thought it could defeat me by not working. I showed it. I kept shoving and jerking and finally, kicking it until I won.” I animate my hands in a dramatic fashion as if I’m on a theater stage, telling a tale. I toss my hands up in victorious motion as we walk out the lobby and onto the street.

“Then my mother calls and tells me her feminist-loving Women’s Society is going to auction off, yes I did say
auction
, women at the Children’s Hospital benefit. Guess who’s on the list? That’s right. Me. Now, some old guy is going to pay a fortune to have dinner with me and try to cop a feel the entire time.” I growl in frustration as we continue walking.

“Will it make you feel better that I’ll be there?” he grumbles.

“You’re going? Really?” I’m going to see Blake Foster in a tux? The image is almost lickable.

“Yeah, I am, unfortunately. Jack and Mom want me there.”

“A family night?” I’m not sure if it’s a question or a statement. I can see it all over Blake’s face that it’s the last thing he wants to do.

We walk up another block until Blake stops outside a brick building and opens the door. The name on the wall: Callie’s Bar and Grill.

“So, how do you know this place?”

“Felix says his brothers love this place. I thought we could check it out for ourselves.” He leads the way to a small table against the far wall.

“Oh. So, are we ordering wine, beer, or plain old water?” I pick up the menu on the table.

“Whatever you want. I’m getting water though. I don’t drink while we’re on the road.”

“I don’t think they have steamed veggies here.” I lay the menu down for him to see and read it upside down. It’s like the first time we ate together.

His dazzling smile appears. “No? I don’t know if I can eat here then.” There’s a playful tone in Blake’s voice.

“Sucks to be you then, Blakey, because I’m starving.”

“I guess I can make an exception then. What are you getting this time?”

I moan in delight as I point to the one thing that looks the most delicious on the laminated menu. “Chicken wings. Hot, sticky, chicken wings. Mom hates when I eat them because she says it’s not ladylike, but it’s so yummy.” I lick my lips as if the gooey goodness is on there. “What about you? Do you want the celery stick they give with the wings?” I giggle.

The waitress comes by and we put in our orders. Blake ends up getting a fish sandwich while I order a small basket of wings with extra wet napkins.

He shakes his head as the waitress goes to put in our order. “I never thought you had a rebel in you. What else do you do that your mom wouldn’t exactly approve of?”

“Lots of things. I wear white after Labor Day. There are times when my purse
doesn’t
match my shoes. I’ve had sex before marriage, which almost killed her to find out. I’m not married and will be thirty in couple of years. Oh, and I still haven’t given her grandchildren.” That last one seems to be a big one for my mother lately.

“What about with your dad?” He swirls his straw around in his glass of water. I’m not sure why Blake’s asking all these questions, but I’ll play along.

“Dad? He is much different than Mom. He has his strict ways, but it’s mainly with our work ethics. I’m sure you know how much my dad is worth, but he makes us pay our own bills. Harmony and I don’t get our trusts until we’re thirty-five, and Dad taught us that hard work is how you get through life. Hard work, kindness, and truthfulness.”

“He sounds like a good person,” Blake says softly.

“Both of my parents are. Mom is as wonderful as Dad.” Saying that makes me smile, and it’s the truth; my parents are wonderful.

“That’s good.” He seems unsure of what else to say. Blake crosses his arms on the table and his t-shirt looks as if it’s about to rip from his biceps. He’s looking all around the room as if he’s trying to escape.

“Your mom seems to be helping out with the benefit. How is she liking it?” Maybe talking about her will help him focus.

“She loves it. She’s always liked to help people whenever she could. She hasn’t done as much in the past few years as she’d like, so this is making her day.”

“I’m glad she has friends now. See, friends are a good thing,” I say cheerfully.

“Yeah, I guess so. You’re my friend now; you don’t have to keep convincing me it’s good.” He turns his attention to me.

“I think you’re saying I was right, correct?” I tease him with a smirk.

“Not if it means I’m wrong. You haven’t reached that level of friendship yet.” He ribs me back, and he doesn’t look as tense now.

“What level are we on? Is it the stubborn-still-a-pain-in-the-ass-kissing level?” Shit, why did I bring up kissing? Now, I’m thinking about his mouth.

“I’m still being an ass?”

“Have you looked in the mirror? The permanent scowl equals assness.” I almost snort at my kidding nature.

“Not always. Maybe it means there’s a lot going on,” he shrugs. “I haven’t been that grumpy lately, have I?”

“You ran off on me at the pizza parlor.” I can hear the sadness in my voice. I shouldn’t let it hurt my feelings, but it did a little bit. “I’ve tried talking to you the past few days, and all I get are one word answers. You haven’t even looked at me when we cross paths. I think that classifies as grumpy.”

Even though Blake is staring at me, he doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Yeah, I guess it does. I’m sorry, Sofia; that’s the best I’ve got right now.”

Sorry? He’s sorry. I think I faintly hear the sledge hammer hitting the steel wall around him and making a small dent in it.

“I know. I’m not really complaining. If you ever need to vent, you can count on me.” I boldly take his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “You have my word.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He doesn’t move away.

Our food comes and I remove my hand from his. I quickly dive into my spicy chicken wings. They slightly burn my mouth, but they are mouth watering.

“Do you like the job?” He changes the subject, taking a bite of his fish sandwich.

“I’m rubbing oil on buff, baseball players. What do you think?” I roll my eyes.

“I think you may be reconsidering when someone like Tanner comes to see you.”

“That man.” I shake my head thinking of all the noises he makes. “He moans so loud all the time.” I giggle.