Jordan (Season Two: The Ninth Inning #5) (7 page)

“I wish I could give up on her,” I confess, hating to mutter the words out loud.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. It would be easier than this. I’m going to lose her either way, but I just can’t give up, and I wish I could.”

He doesn’t even bother looking at me, which is fine. I prefer it that way. “You will lose her with that attitude.” I shake my head at him, but since he isn’t looking, he continues, “Do you really think you’ll lose her?”

“Yeah, it feels like I’m fighting a lost cause.” I push off the counter and duck under the hood to get back to work, needing to do something with my hands. “She called and cussed me out because I left her a letter. She said she’s changed and she has. I don’t know if appealing to the Heidi I knew is going to work. She’s your kid. Make her come home.”

Sam laughs heartily and I smile. “If it were only that simple.” He takes a deep breath and sobers. “Losing Eden changed her, and until she’s forced to deal with that, the battle is going to be that much harder. We’ve told her we think she’s making a mistake, and that’s about all we can do. Well, Gemma will probably let her hear it more than she wants to.”

“Do you think I’ll lose her?” I ask after a minute.

He’s quiet for far longer than I’d like. “Honestly, I don’t know, Jordan. I don’t quite recognize my daughter either. She’s in there somewhere, but it’s down deep.”

Well, there goes all my hope. Not that I won’t still try like hell, but I think I need to be prepared for what could very well happen. Quietly, I say, “I’ll miss y’all.”

Sam stands upright, but I keep working. “What are you talking about? We ain’t going anywhere.”

I shake my head. “If this happens,” I begin, not able to bring myself to say the word, “I’ll lose y’all too.”

“Jordan,” he starts, but I cut him off.

“I can’t do it, Sam,” I snap. No way will I be able to survive being around her parents if this divorce happens. It’ll hurt too much. “You’re all fucking delusional if y’all think I’ll survive it and come out of it okay. Heidi wants me to move on and start dating, and I can’t even leave my ring at home,” I continue to rant. “What does she think I’ve being doing all this time? That I’ve been happy without her?

“She lost Eden and she doesn’t even realize that I not only lost my daughter, I lost my wife, too. Now she wants me to just forget about our life together and end it, and what I want doesn’t fucking matter.”

Sam doesn’t comment on my outburst, so I glance over at him. “Has Heidi ever seen you angry with her?”

Confused, I stand and wipe my hands on a rag. “What? Of course she has. We’ve had arguments.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Not like this anyway. Your ‘arguments,’” I swear he does air quotes, “were more like discussions that got a little heated. You’ve never had major disagreements where you completely opposed what she wanted. And if there was one, she could always talk you into her corner or get a compromise close enough to it because you love her and would do it for her. I think you need to show her you’re pissed off.” He shrugs. “At the very least, it’ll change the pace of things.”

I laugh. “Because our divorce is boring you, I’ll try to spice things up to make it more entertaining,” I tell him sarcastically. “Now here,” I hand him the tool I’m holding. “You’re slacking, and I’m tired of doing all the work.”

He takes it and we get back to tinkering with the car. Gemma brings us a glass of water a few times before she goes to see Heidi. It feels nice and normal to work on a car with Sam again.

“How long are y’all staying?” I ask as we finish up.

“We just got here, and you’re already thinking of when we’re leaving?”

“I’m curious is all.”

Sam takes a deep breath as we walk into the house. “Gemma said we’re not leaving until you two are back together, but who knows? Best I can say is you should plan on having us around for a while.”

“When are you going to chip in on groceries then?” I ask with a grin.

He slaps me up the backside of my head. “When we start making as much money as you do.”

I laugh and leave him behind as I go take a shower to wash all the grime off. Gemma and Sam can stay as long as they want. I’m not going to hurry them away, especially when my time with them could be limited. Maybe Sam is right and I should get all my anger out by writing it down. I just need to be careful not to say something I’ll regret.

TO MY WIFE, Heidi,

I think you’re selfish. Granted, we’re all a little selfish, but these past couple of years, you’ve been very selfish. Our marriage went from a we, from husband and wife, to Heidi, to wife wants, husband gives. I gave and gave and gave. You took and took and took. Look at where that got us. To a divorce only one of us wants, something you expect me to give you without complaint.

So, yeah, I think you’re selfish. I can even give you an example: you telling me how badly you needed this so I would agree to meet with Mr. Armstrong. It pisses me off that you did that; it pisses me off that it worked.

I told Sam I wished I could simply give up on us. You drive me crazy, and lately, not in a good way. I feel like by giving you space, you forgot a lot of important details.

Like how we took vows. For better or for worse. ‘Til death do us part. That doesn’t mean anything to you, though. You want to give up while I break myself to keep us together.

Like how we planned a life together. But you changed your mind. Forget the house. Forget the husband. Forget the family. Forget being happy.

Like how we both lost a daughter. It affected us differently, I know. I lost her, too, but the fact remains that you pushed me away when we should have been holding on to grieve together.

We’re married. I’m your husband. We were supposed to be a family, even if it’s just the two of us. That means something. How in the hell can you just want to throw it all away? How do you honestly think this is the best for us both? Because it’s not. You think it’s the best for you and that’s all you’re thinking about.

You left.

Just up and left.

Who cares about a marriage, or Jordan, or how he’s dealing with things? Oh, let’s just add to him losing his baby by having his wife walk out on him like none of it fucking matters anymore. He can take care of himself.

Where were you when I needed you?

Where were you on my bad days?

Where were you when I had to visit her grave by myself because you wouldn’t answer my calls?

Where the hell were you when I had to put away everything in the nursery?

You weren’t there because you left, mentally and physically.

It didn’t bother me so much then because I knew you were hurting. But so was I. Just as much as you were.

Do you remember when we were looking around for a vacation house? It took us forever to find something we liked. It took us even longer to find our perfect place. But it was ours. We were going to take care of it, visit as often as possible, and one day, take our kids there. It was the one place that could take us away from reality. It’s why we would sneak out there when I had a small break during the season. Even if only for a couple of hours.

That was our happy, worry-free place. Our home away from home. I think we were always happiest there and once I retired, I always thought we would live there. Even now, I wish I could drag you out there and set things straight between us because if it could happen in any one place, it would be at the vacation house.

I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. Even at our worst, I still want to love you for the rest of my life.

With all my love,

Your husband

“You need to come with us and celebrate.” Skye tugs on my arm.

“I can’t tonight.” I’m not sure why I can’t go with my employees. It’s probably not ethical to go out drinking with them.

“Yes. You. Can.” Kassy hugs my neck. “You’ve never been out with us and you’re coming tonight.”

“We need to let the whole city of Memphis know who’s going to be headlining the Tennessee Cosmetology Convention!” Colette shouts from the laundry room.

“I’m not headlining anything,” I clarify. “We’re all just going to the convention.”

I’m not going to tell them, but I’m jumping up and down on the inside with glee. I couldn’t believe they invited me. They only did it because someone canceled, but it’s still a huge deal. I can really get Above A Dream out in the open with this.

Wait. Why shouldn’t I go out with the girls? I’ve not been out in... I can’t remember the last time I even went out.

“All right. One drink,” I cave.

“Yay!” All three girls cheer and Kassy finally releases me. I may need to talk to her about a personal bubble.

We grab our things and I lock the door. We walk down the street to a bar and grill. It’s somewhat crowded, but we’re able to find a table. I order a glass of white wine and the girls begin chatting about everything from shoes, clothes, and current celebrity news.

I laugh with them; I can’t remember the last time I had a good time with a bunch of girls. I used to hang out with the baseball wives on Jordan’s last team, but I don’t know any of the Memphis wives. Not that I would hang out with them since Jordan and I are divorcing.

“I need to grab some water,” I announce over the loud jukebox blaring near us. I really want to drink more, but I still need to drive home. I stand at the bar and wait my turn when I feel someone staring at me. I turn to my left, and an older attractive man smiles. I give him a small smile.

“Hi,” he greets me. He’s close to my ear since the music is loud.

“Hello.” I nod.

“May I buy you a drink?”

“I’m just drinking water, but thanks anyway,” I politely turn him down.

“I can still buy it for you,” he counters.

“Thank you, but no.” I smile, but say it a bit firmer.

“Oh.” He nods down to my hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were married.”

“What?” I glance down to my left hand where my gold band still shines. “Oh, right.”

“Have a nice night.” He walks away from me.

The bartender sits the bottle of water in front of me. I stare at it. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours trying to forget the letter from Jordan, but it suddenly pops back into my head.

I
am
selfish.

I never took off my ring because I’m selfish. I never talk to him because I’m selfish. I left him because I’m selfish. I’m hurting him so badly. I could feel his pain in the words. I did that to him.

It’s my fault.

I rush over to the girls and tell them I have to leave. I run to my car where I can call him for a moment.

He answers up the call, and I blurt out my words. “I’m selfish. I get it, okay. I know I hurt you and our marriage and our life, but I needed to get away. You said you handled losing Eden differently than I did. And you did. I cry, even today. I think about her all the time. Every time I see a girl around her age, I can’t handle my emotions. And what did you do? Not even four months after we buried our daughter, you started talking about another child. So, yes, I’m selfish because I left to deal with everything that was bearing down on me. But you’re selfish for trying to push me into something you knew I wasn’t ready for. You did this.” I hate to admit but a part of me has been dying to tell him those words.

“You think I don’t think about her? I do, all the time. And Heidi, I never said we needed to try again right that very second. It was always some day, one day. Don’t blame this on me because you never should have left in the first place! It obviously hasn’t gotten any easier for you bearing it all by yourself.”

“I’m doing fucking fantastic. I own my own business, and it’s doing great. I have a studio apartment, which is nicely decorated with no Xboxes or any of your guy crap. I’m doing great. I’m fine. Just fine. And you’re mad because I’m doing better without you.”

“Seriously? You’re doing better? You’re the only one who thinks so! If everyone around you is telling you that you aren’t doing better, that you’re making a mistake, there’s a huge chance they’re right. You’d rather just run away than deal with your problems.”