Homestands (Chicago Wind #1) (13 page)

Marc Hollowell, a former All-Star pitcher and pitching coach indicted for insider trading.

Aaron Ramirez, a former ballplayer and arena football team owner who committed suicide earlier in the year. The guy had chosen death instead of facing his family when they learned what he did when he traveled.

Two more articles followed, two more heart-rending tales of men whose careers—whose family lives—were no more.

He laid the latest article sideways across an empty sheet of paper and taped it carefully in place. After snagging a pen from the pen holder, he flipped to the last page of the notebook and crossed off Edwin Byrd. Chills ran down his shoulder blades as his gaze lingered on the next name.

Very soon another man would fall. Two in one month? He was making incredible time.

Ben closed the binder and returned it to the back of the file drawer. It was good he hadn’t flattened Connor. Waiting for the perfect moment would be much, much sweeter.

Because Connor deserved something bigger, something better than Ben had originally planned. And, just like the rest, Connor would never see it coming.

Mike’s visits continued.

After his game ended Thursday afternoon, he brought dinner over—potato salad, Hawaiian sweet rolls, salad, and ribs he grilled to perfection. After they’d eaten, he stayed long enough to play three games of Uno and two games of Operation with Terrell.

On Saturday evening Mike stopped by again, playing a lazy game of catch in the backyard, tossing the ball to Terrell while talking to her. Always including her.

Anyone listening would never guess they shared a past, one happy and heartbreaking. There were no jabs at each other, no tactless hints that they should date, no rehashing their broken marriage. Just talk about her current design project, Terrell’s first year in school, Mike’s rising batting average, the shocking success the team was having, and some charity dinner that Mike and other teammates were attending.

As Mike chased Terrell’s errant throw, Meg realized that the man she’d loved was a much larger part of this older Mike than she’d thought possible. His humor, his easy laugh, his positive personality that had made him so much fun to be around—none of that had changed. Despite his betrayal, there was still something safe about him, something kind and gentle. He played with Terrell as if there was nothing better in the world. He thanked her for the drinks she brought him and smiled whenever he looked her way.

Meg relaxed her armor, returning his kindness with civility. But she couldn’t help examining the year when cruel Mike appeared. Had it been some bizarre blip in his personality that she’d bailed out on too quickly?

When Saturday’s light faded, the three of them moved inside and watched a kids’ movie with Terrell. For the first time in years, Meg found herself laughing with Mike and sharing a bowl of her favorite popcorn, an act that felt too intimate. When he finally left, she leaned against the closed front door, pleased with the peacefulness of the evening—until she caught herself smiling at the thought of him.

Why was Mike being so attentive? He should concentrate on Terrell and leave her out of their relationship. Wasn’t that the way it was done?

She called Jill, sharing her confusion on how to handle Mike. Should she treat him as a friend? As someone she didn’t care to be around? One exhausting week of navigating the happy, the bittersweet, and the excruciating—suddenly Meg felt worn out.

Sunday and the church services she craved were hours away. What would Mike say about her attending church so faithfully? Would they see him tomorrow, or would he drop by after they’d left for the evening service? Would he try to stop her from going to church? Would he make jokes? Would cruel Mike reappear and prove there was no blip in his character?

Mike’s Sunday afternoon game ended two hours before the evening service started. Every few minutes after that, Meg glanced at the clock, calculating what he might be doing— talking to reporters, eating, working out. If he didn’t hurry, they’d be at church before he ever knocked on her door.

No, she was thinking that all wrong. If she and Terrell didn’t leave early for church, he’d catch them at home.

They would leave early.

But Terrell couldn’t find one of his shoes, and the doorbell rang five minutes after Meg had hoped to leave. She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin, then opened the door to find Mike wearing his familiar grin.

This was… bad. Yes, bad. Not good.

“Hey there.” He entered the foyer, surveying her. “Going somewhere?”

She glanced down at her spring-green sheath. “We’re on our way to church.” She pulled her hair over her shoulder, feeling the flutter in her hands. “Terrell’s looking for his shoe.”

“I found it, Mommy.”

She turned toward him at the top of the stairs, glad she didn’t have to see Mike’s reaction.

Terrell ran down the rest of the stairs, missing shoe in hand. “Hi, Dad.” He raised his hand for a high-five, and Mike slapped his palm. “That was a big home run.”

“Thanks. Those are fun.” Mike’s gaze returned to her, brown eyes smiling as if he knew something. “Can I talk you out of your plans? I made reservations at a French restaurant downtown.” He soft-punched Terrell’s shoulder. “You can eat snails.”

“Yuck!” Terrell grinned and launched into authentic gagging noises.

“Stop that, Terrell.” She hungered for church, especially with Mike’s presence wearing on her. “Thanks, but not this time.”

“We’re going to church,” Terrell said. “You could come with us.”

What?

Terrell tugged on Mike’s hands. “If you came, you could meet my friends.”

And have her whole church whispering about her? Of course, Mike would never set foot in—

“Why not.” He shrugged at her. “Then I can see what kind of outfit your mom’s joined.” He pulled his phone from his pants’ pocket. “Let me cancel those reservations.” He disappeared into the living room.

Meg slumped against the half-wall of the stairs.
He can’t come.
She covered her cheeks with her palms.
God, please. He can’t come.

“Mommy?” Terrell tugged at her arms. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” She moved out of his grasp, ducking into the powder room beneath the stairs. She stared at her face in the mirror. “I can’t be seen with him. Not at church.” Having Jill and Clark and even Dana know about Mike was one thing, but for her whole messed-up past to be paraded in front of her church—

“Meg?” Mike knocked on the door. “Are you all right?”

“Just a minute.” She couldn’t tell him he couldn’t come. How would she explain that to Terrell? And Terrell was what mattered, she told her reflection, not her reputation.

The thought didn’t help.

She forced herself to leave the safety of her powder room and followed Mike and Terrell outside, pausing to make sure her door was locked. Terrell ran for the Range Rover, but Meg took her time climbing into the front seat.

“Don’t you have a church you go to?” Terrell asked as she buckled her seatbelt.

Mike backed out of her driveway. “I don’t think I’ve been to church since I moved here.” He lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “I always feel like I’m in trouble. Don’t you?”

Terrell shrugged. “Maybe you are.”

Leave it to Terrell. Hiding her amusement, Meg turned away, but not before catching Mike’s surprised look.

“What do you mean maybe I am?”

“People who don’t know Jesus are in trouble because they can’t go to heaven.”

Between Meg’s directions, Mike asked, “And I suppose you know Jesus?”

“Yes. Mommy does too.”

“Really?”

Why did he poke fun at his own child? “Don’t make this a joke, Mike.”

He raised his eyebrows, a smile tugging at his mouth.

“Yeah, Dad. You have to believe Jesus paid for your sins and tell him you’re sorry for all the bad things you did. And when you die some day, you’ll go to heaven and live with him.”

“You don’t say. So Jesus forgave all those horrible things you’ve done?”

His words tipped off Terrell to his amusement. “I’ve done bad things. Ask Mommy.”

Mike sent her a smirk, eyebrows raised.

“Mike,” she warned.

“And your mom did this too?”

“Yeah, but she had more bad things to confess because she’s older.”

Mike laughed, grinning at her. “Oh, I know all about those.”

Wasn’t he hilarious? She flashed him an insincere smile, then glanced out her window, leaving him to chuckle to himself.

Mercifully, the subject died, and the drive was soon over. But as Meg stepped out of the Range Rover, she debated snatching Mike’s keys and driving away. How would she be able to come back once people found out who her ex-husband was?

She dragged her feet to the church’s main doors, pleading for time to freeze, for the door to seal shut—

Mike reached around her and swung the glass door open before she could scream at him not to touch it, which was probably a good thing. She walked through the door and nodded a hello at the greeters. Nothing like a scream to ensure attention.

Inside, she scoped out the fastest route to the auditorium, but people stood in groups throughout the foyer while others weaved around them. She speed-walked for the nearest entrance, only to tangle with members heading to the nursery or bathrooms or… someplace that slowed her progress. Those she knew paused to say hello and touch her arm before doing a double-take, their eyes above and behind her.

Wonderful. He was still there.

More heads turned. Eyes widened. People whispered, staring at Mike, then Meg and Terrell, then Mike again.

Her vision blurred. Already the speculating had begun.

Somehow she lifted her chin and marched the last few yards into the auditorium, stalking into a row near the back. Terrell and Mike slid in beside her, and she relaxed a little. Now if the service would just start already—

Two single men stopped to shake Mike’s hand.

Meg clenched her teeth. She shouldn’t have let him sit on the aisle. Now there’d be autographs and—

A small crowd had already formed beside Mike, all wanting to know how he knew Meg and Terrell. Meg glared at them, but no one seemed to notice as they listened, fascinated, to Mike explain that Meg was his ex-wife and Terrell was his son.

Unbelievable. The story would spread before church even started. Those who met Mike would tell friends and family about the baseball star in the back and how he was Meg Connor’s ex, and were they getting back together? She crossed her arms and legs, her eyes straight ahead. Her toes tapped the seat in front of her. There’d be fakes coming out of the woodwork, people cozying up to her in order to meet Mike, rumors as convoluted as a soap opera. She clenched her teeth at the thought.

“Meg?”

She looked past Terrell and Mike to the aisle, where Jill waved before pointing at the empty space beyond her. “May we join you?” Jill asked.

Amazingly Clark, who was talking with Mike, and Jill were the only people in the aisle currently.

Where had everyone gone?

Mike waved his hand at her. “Scoot down, Meg.”

The Ashburns wanted to sit by Mike? Terrell slid against her, leaving her no option but to make room for two more. How could they? Were the only two people who knew what had happened between her and Mike swayed by his fame too? Was that why they’d befriended her?

Throughout the service, Meg stared at the blonde highlights of the woman in front of her. She stood when the woman did, sang songs without hearing the words, closed her eyes during prayer, and managed to open her Bible during the pastor’s message, all the while sitting in her own anger-heated space, brain buzzing as she planned a fast departure.

At last, people around her stood for the closing prayer.

She squeezed the back of the chair in front of her. If she could rush Mike and Terrell out of here, maybe she’d make it home before imploding.

But when the service ended, Mike and Clark stood there, talking.

Jill squeezed past the men and Terrell while Meg, ignoring her, grabbed her Bible and purse for a quick exit.

“What a surprise, huh?” Jill said in her ear.

Meg shot her a dark look. “Let’s hope it doesn’t happen again.” She held up a hand when Jill opened her mouth. “Sorry, Jill, but I have to get out of here.”

“I understand…”

Did she? Jill’s words faded, replaced by the betrayal of Jill and Clark buddying up to Mike, making her scoot down so they could sit by
him
—

Jill’s words broke through her irritation. “…what do you think?”

She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to leave. “Sure. Whatever. Tell
Mike
,” she said, emphasizing his name in sarcasm Jill either missed or chose to ignore, “that I’ll be at his car.”

Meg slid her purse strap onto her shoulder as she eyed a way out of the middle of the row. Mike and Clark still stood at one end, ignoring the people who filed past, whispered, and pointed at Mike and then her. She glared at a few of them, smiling when they flushed.
Gossips
. She turned her back on all of them and escaped out the row’s other end.

In the foyer she returned the hellos and calls with a tight smile. She held herself to a fast walk across the parking lot until she reached Mike’s Range Rover, alone in the farthest row.

Safe, at last. She pulled the handle to open the door, but it was locked. Of course. She resisted the urge to smack the hood. That would probably set off an alarm. She slumped against the passenger door, the heat from the black surface warming her back and head. The ache in her shoulders spread down her spine.

It was over. She’d survived it all going public, although she knew now who her true friends were.

Or weren’t.

For a few more minutes, Meg leaned against the Range Rover, darkening her already bleak mood, until the sudden beep of the locks jarred her. She looked across the hood to find Mike opening a door for Terrell. Without a word, she climbed inside and buckled her seatbelt.

Mike seated himself behind the wheel. “You sure took off,” he said over his door slamming.

“I’m tired. Just ready to go home.” None of that was a lie.