“So I’ll be your early-warning system,” he said. “I’ll tell you if I notice anything or hear about any problems from the other teachers. This time of year, I pay close attention to the grades of my players. And if you ever have any concerns, just give me a call.”
“Thanks for caring so much about my son,” Maddie said sincerely. “He looks up to you.”
“It’s not a one-way street,” Cal told her. “Ty’s going to be a baseball superstar one of these days. Being a tiny part of making that happen makes me feel as if my life after baseball has some meaning.”
Maddie heard an unexpected note of melancholy in his voice and wondered if he even knew it was there. “It must have been tough having your dream end so quickly.”
“It was baseball, not life or death,” he said cavalierly. “Smart people don’t wallow in self-pity. They find a new dream.”
“And yours is coaching high-school baseball?” she asked.
“That’s just part of it,” he said.
“And the rest?”
He hesitated, then said, “I think we’ll save that for another conversation. If I’m late getting back to school and my PE class starts running wild on the playground, my coaching days could be over. See you, Maddie.”
“Yeah, see you.”
She stood in the doorway and watched as he went down the walk, opened the rusty gate and set off at an easy jog. She watched until he turned the corner and disappeared.
Mary Vaughn strolled up the sidewalk from the opposite direction. “Whoo-ee, that is one incredible specimen of a man,” she said. “If my heart didn’t belong to Sonny, I would surely take up jogging just so I could run a few laps behind that very fine derriere.” She grinned at Maddie. “How about you, sugar? Does he give you any interesting ideas?”
“None I care to share with you,” Maddie responded, laughing. In truth, most of her ideas about Coach Maddox were too hot to be shared with anyone, including her best friends. Helen and Dana Sue wouldn’t be shocked, but they would be highly motivated to get her what they thought she wanted. There was nothing a Sweet Magnolia enjoyed more than planning a seduction.
Maddie was sitting on the floor up to her eyeballs in calculator tapes and notes when her doorbell rang that night at eight. Only Helen and Dana Sue would risk her wrath by showing up at that hour when the kids were winding down upstairs and Maddie wanted nothing more than to relax with a glass of wine and a long soak in the tub. Before she could even scramble to her feet, the two of them walked in, gloating expressions on their faces.
“I brought Erik’s famous chocolate-decadence cake,” Dana Sue said, holding it out as if it was a peace offering. Her pastry chef had won the hearts of everyone in town.
“And I brought bubbly,” Helen said, displaying a bottle of very expensive champagne.
“Are we celebrating something?” Maddie inquired innocently.
“I told Mary Vaughn to set up the closing on the Hartley place,” Helen said. “It’ll be ours before the end of the month.”
“Isn’t that fantastic?” Dana Sue asked. “We’re opening our own spa!”
Maddie wanted to share their enthusiasm, but at the moment she was merely annoyed. “Have either of you actually heard me agree to this yet?”
“No, but all the signs were there,” Helen said blithely. “Why wait?”
“Because it’s common courtesy,” Maddie snapped. “You can’t snatch a decision this big out of my hands. I have half a mind to walk away right this second, if this is the way things are going to go, with you two bullying me into doing whatever you want.”
“Hey, slow down,” Dana Sue soothed. “Nobody’s bullying
anybody. Helen can call and back out of the deal right now if that’s what you really want.”
Maddie sighed impatiently. “No, that’s not what I want. I just want to be asked. I want my opinion to count for something.”
Helen sat down on the floor beside her. “Of course your opinion counts. That’s why I acted. I could see it in your eyes the other day. You want to do this but you’re scared. I thought maybe it would be easier if the whole decision didn’t rest on your shoulders.”
Maddie regarded Helen with renewed respect. “You got that?”
“Well, of course I did. How long have we known each other?”
“Long enough,” Maddie said. “If I actually count the years, it depresses me. None of us are supposed to be that old.”
“We’re not old,” Dana Sue said vehemently. “We are in the prime of our incredible lives.”
Helen laughed. “Indeed we are!” she said, popping the champagne cork. “The Sweet Magnolias are all grown up and about to take this town by storm once again. I think that deserves a drink.”
“I’ll get the glasses,” Maddie offered, but Dana Sue was already on her way to the kitchen. That was the thing about best friends, she supposed. Sometimes they just acted without waiting to be asked. How could she be mad at them for that?
“Do you know how much I appreciate you two?” she asked when Dana Sue returned with three of her best crystal champagne flutes.
“Enough to go into business with us?” Helen pressed.
“Even more,” Maddie said with heartfelt sincerity. She lifted her glass. “To the Sweet Magnolias.”
“To us,” Dana Sue said.
Maddie sipped her champagne and giggled as the bubbles tickled her nose, robbing the moment of its solemnity.
“What now?” she asked.
“I think we should name this fancy new place of ours,” Dana Sue said. “It’ll make it seem more real. We can’t refer to it as the old Hartley place forever.”
“You’re right,” Helen said. “We need to get some buzz going.”
“I don’t think buzz will be an issue in Serenity,” Maddie said wryly. “Everyone in town already knows what we’re up to. Just today Coach Maddox asked why we couldn’t let men in, too. And I doubt he’s even lived here long enough to be very high up on the town grapevine.”
Helen gave her a speculative look. “Coach Maddox, huh? Another meeting to discuss Ty?”
“No, he brought me the key to open up the house. Mary Vaughn was running late.”
The other two women exchanged a look.
“Interesting,” Dana Sue said.
“Isn’t it, though?” Helen said.
Maddie gave them a disgusted look. “Whatever you’re thinking, forget it. We need to concentrate on coming up with a name, remember?”
“Cal Maddox is a name,” Dana Sue taunted.
“Ha-ha,” Maddie replied. “Do we want to call it a gym, a fitness club or a spa?”
“A spa,” Helen said at once.
Maddie regarded her doubtfully. “Are you sure that’s not too fancy for a place like Serenity? People might think we’re too expensive or exclusive or something.”
“She has a point,” Dana Sue said. “We don’t want women thinking we’re too uppity for them.”
“Then work with me,” Helen said. “Put something with it that tones that down, something simple that makes it seem accessible to everyone.”
Suddenly Dana Sue’s eyes lit up. “I have it!” she said enthusiastically. “Where is this house?”
Maddie tried to grasp her point. “On the corner of Main and Palmetto.”
“Exactly,” Dana Sue said. “So why not call it The Corner Spa?”
“It sounds cozy,” Maddie agreed slowly. “Helen? What do you think?”
“I love it,” she said at once. “The Corner Spa it is. Who knows, one of these days there might be one on a corner in every small town in America.”
“Maybe we ought to get the doors open on this one and see if anyone comes before we start thinking about expansion,” Maddie cautioned.
“It never hurts to dream big,” Helen chided. “You used to. You just got out of the habit.”
Maddie considered the comment. Maybe Helen was right. Maybe her dreams had spent too many years taking a back seat to Bill’s, so many years, in fact, that she’d forgotten all about them.
“That changes tonight,” Maddie told them. “From this moment on, I’m going to start dreaming again.”
Dana Sue grinned. “I wonder if Coach Maddox is going to figure in any of those dreams?” she asked Helen.
“Is there any doubt?” Helen responded. “I’ve had a few X-rated dreams about that man myself.”
“He’s my son’s baseball coach!” Maddie said indignantly.
“Meaning I’m not allowed to have wild thoughts about him because your son would be shocked?” Helen teased. “Or are you simply staking ownership?”
“Oh, go suck an egg,” Maddie retorted, because she didn’t dare answer Helen’s question. If she admitted to the jealousy that had streaked through her at Helen’s not-so-innocent comment, she’d never hear the end of it.
O
n opening day of the baseball season, Cal was aware of the precise instant Maddie Townsend showed up with Ty’s brother and sister. With his baseball cap pulled low and his sunglasses on, he was able to take a good long look at her tanned legs in a pair of khaki shorts, white sneakers and tennis socks, and the turquoise T-shirt that she’d tucked securely into the waistband of her shorts. It was no more revealing than anything she’d worn to a game before, but now he allowed himself to admire every line and curve of her excellent body.
He was pretty sure he didn’t take another breath until he saw Bill Townsend climb into the bleachers and take a seat beside her. Katie immediately crawled into her dad’s lap and Kyle traded places to be next to his dad. If Cal hadn’t known better, he would never have questioned that they were anything but a typical family.
After watching them a moment longer, Cal exhaled and forced his attention back to the field. He didn’t want to observe their interaction and start speculating on whether Bill and Maddie Townsend were making an attempt at reconciliation. To avoid that kind of speculation, he needed to focus on the moment.
In Cal’s experience, the opening game of the season had an air of anticipation that couldn’t be equaled. It had been true for the first game of spring training when he’d been with the Braves. It had been true for the start of the regular season, as well. In high-school sports, there was the same atmosphere of excitement. In fact, he’d found it even headier in high-school sports, when half the town showed up to cheer on the local team. There was an aroma of hot dogs and popcorn in the air, the sound of the baseball slapping into the catcher’s mitt, the exchange of greetings among parents and neighbors. He reveled in all of it, glad he’d discovered this job and this town.
“Okay, guys, this is it,” he told the boys gathered around him. “Don’t try to do too much out there tonight. Just relax and play your best. Ty, is your arm feeling okay?”
“Never better,” Ty said distractedly, his gaze on his mom and dad in the stands as if he, too, wondered what might be happening between them.
“Ty!” Cal said more forcefully than he meant to.
The boy’s attention snapped back to him. “Sorry, Coach.”
“Baseball’s a game of concentration,” Cal reminded all of them. “You can’t have your mind wandering when you’re on the field, okay? That’s how balls wind up dropping into the gap and pitch counts get away from you.”
“Got it,” they chorused dutifully, Ty included.
When his team took the field, Cal watched them with pride. They were a good group of kids. One or two even had some real talent, though none had the potential Ty exhibited. He was their star, and though Cal tried not to play favorites, they all knew it. But if Ty pitched the way he was capable of, the team would win, and that’s what most of them cared about.
When the first three batters struck out, Cal let himself relax. After Luke Dillon hit a home run, the first inning ended with the team up by one. Sometimes, if Ty was in his groove as he appeared to be tonight, that was all they needed.
The second and third innings were more of the same. Ty threw strikes and the opposing team went down in order. The Serenity Eagles added two more insurance runs.
But in the top of the fourth inning, something went wrong. Ty walked the first batter. He threw a lazy, ill-considered pitch to the next hitter and the ball went into center field, scoring one runner and leaving the batter on second base with a solid double.
Cal felt his stomach sink. He waved at the umpire and walked out to the mound, along with the catcher. “What’s up, Ty?”
“Nothing,” he said tightly.
His catcher, John Calhoun, gave him an incredulous look. “You had nothing on those pitches, Ty,” he accused. “You ignored my signals. You gotta get your act together!”
“Is your arm hurting?” Cal asked. “Do you want to come out?”
“No way,” Ty replied, scowling at both of them, then looking away.
Cal followed the direction of Ty’s gaze and spotted a young, obviously pregnant woman with her arm linked possessively through Bill Townsend’s. Katie was now in her mom’s lap and Kyle had moved to Maddie’s other side.
So, Cal thought, that was the reason for the divorce and the explanation behind Ty’s sudden loss of concentration. No wonder the kid was furious with his dad. What kind of man flaunted his new girlfriend—his
pregnant
girlfriend—in front
of his wife and kids when his divorce wasn’t even final? Until this instant, Cal had always respected Bill Townsend, but at the moment he wanted to throttle him for his lack of sensitivity—even if it did mean Cal now knew the Townsend marriage was truly over.
“Ty, you have to shake it off,” he said quietly. “Nothing that happens off this field matters right now.”
“I hate her guts,” Ty said bitterly, not even trying to pretend he didn’t know what Cal was alluding to. “Why’d she have to show up here? It’s embarrassing. It’s bad enough that she goes out in public with him, so everyone in town knows he was cheating on my mom. Coming here proves she just wants to be in my mom’s face.”
Cal glanced at Maddie and saw that her gaze was riveted on the field. When Ty looked her way she gave him a smile and a thumbs-up.
“All your mom cares about right now is you,” Cal said.
“But I can’t pitch worth a damn with that woman here,” Ty said angrily.
“Yes, you can,” Cal told him. “Remember what happened when your dad showed up at practice and you pictured him in the middle of the strike zone and threw right at him?”
A slow grin spread across the boy’s face. “It brought me right out of my slump,” he said, immediately grasping Cal’s point.
“Exactly. Use that same technique right now. We’re still leading by two runs. It’s not too late to save this inning and keep them from scoring again.”
Ty nodded, then glanced at his catcher, who’d remained diplomatically silent during the whole exchange about Ty’s dad. “You ready for some heat, Calhoun?”
“Bring it on,” John said.
“Let’s do it, then,” Cal told them. He walked back to the bench, but instead of watching the field, he directed a look up at Bill. When he finally caught the man’s attention, Cal shifted his gaze to the woman with him and gave a subtle shake of his head. Not five minutes later, he noticed that both of them were gone. He’d counted on Bill to recognize that he was at the root of Ty’s lack of concentration and to do what was best for his son. To his credit, he had.
Cal glanced at Maddie and thought he read relief in her expression, too. If he examined his motives closely, he wasn’t entirely sure whether he’d forced the issue for her sake or Ty’s. Something told him it was a toss-up.
“Mom, Coach Maddox is taking us all out for pizza,” Tyler told Maddie after the game. “Can I go?”
“Of course you can,” she said at once. “You deserve a celebration.”
“I want pizza, too,” Katie said with a pout. “Why can’t we go?”
“Because it’s a team celebration,” Maddie told her. “We’ll order pizza for you and me and Kyle at home.”
“Why don’t you come with us,” Cal invited. “Once we get to Rosalina’s, the boys pretty much ignore me. I could use some adult conversation.” He glanced at Ty. “Would it be okay with you if your mom, Kyle and Katie came along?”
Pleased that Cal had been considerate enough to ask Ty’s opinion, Maddie studied her son’s face. “It’s okay to say no, Ty. We don’t want to intrude if it would make you uncomfortable.”
“Would you guys sit at another table?” he asked, clearly
searching for a compromise that wouldn’t be an embarrassment for him.
She grinned. “Absolutely. No one will even know we’re with you.”
“Then it’s okay with me,” he said with a shrug.
“We’ll see you there, then,” Maddie told the coach. “Does anyone need a ride?”
He shook his head. “I’ve arranged for a school bus to drop them all off. The parents will pick them up there in a couple of hours.”
“See you in a few minutes, then.”
In her car, Maddie barely resisted the urge to check her makeup. This wasn’t a date, for goodness’ sakes. Cal had asked her to join him and twenty kids. He’d probably just wanted another chaperone.
“I like Coach Maddox,” Katie said from the back seat of the car. “He’s nice.”
“You just like him ’cause he said we could come for pizza,” Kyle complained. “Nobody asked
me
if I wanted to go.”
Maddie realized with a sudden rush of dismay that he was right. It used to be that Kyle always spoke up and said what he wanted. Since his dad had left, he’d been too quiet. He did what was expected of him but rarely volunteered any of the joking comments they’d all grown used to from him. The silence made it easy to forget that he needed some attention and consideration, too.
“You love pizza and you’ve always liked hanging out with Tyler and his friends,” Maddie said. “I guess I just assumed it would be all right with you. Was I wrong? Would you rather go home?”
“No!” Katie whined. “I don’t wanna go home.”
“Oh, who asked you, you big baby,” Kyle muttered, then added grudgingly, “We may as well go. Katie’s going to act like a baby otherwise.”
“That’s enough!” Maddie said. “If the two of you can’t speak nicely to each other, we
will
go home and there won’t be any pizza.” She glanced in her rearview mirror and saw the two of them scowling at each other. At least she’d succeeded in silencing the argument.
“I expect both of you to be on your best behavior at Rosalina’s,” she warned. “Otherwise, we’re out of there.”
Kyle gave her an oddly knowing look. “You’re trying to impress Coach Maddox, aren’t you?”
“Don’t be silly,” Maddie said, though she was probably turning a dozen different shades of pink.
“Then how come you looked all weird when he asked us to come with the team?” he persisted.
“Weird how?”
“I dunno. Sorta like the way Patty Gallagher looked when Tyler invited her to the spring dance.”
“Your brother asked a girl to a dance?” Maddie asked. It was the first she’d heard about it.
Kyle grinned. “You shoulda heard him. It was really lame, but I guess Patty didn’t care ’cause she said yes.”
“What about you?” Maddie asked. “Did you invite anyone to the dance?”
“Not me,” Kyle said adamantly. “Who wants to get all dressed up and go to some stupid dance?”
“You will when the right girl comes along,” Maddie said.
“No way, not after seeing Ty get all tongue-tied and dopey,” Kyle insisted. “It was disgusting. At least Coach Maddox wasn’t that bad when he asked you out.”
Obviously her younger son had developed keen powers of observation. Maddie was going to have to watch herself around him. “Coach Maddox didn’t ask me on a date,” she reminded Kyle. “He was including all of us in the team’s celebration. I thought it was nice, that’s all.”
“Yeah, right.”
Maddie ignored his sarcasm as she turned in to the packed parking lot behind Rosalina’s. She finally found a space way back in the last row. Both kids bolted from the car.
“Hurry up, Mom,” Katie commanded. “Me and Kyle are starving.”
“I’m gonna get us a table,” Kyle told her, then took off at a run.
Maddie had a hunch he simply didn’t want to be seen walking into the place with his mother and sister on a Friday night. If there was a table in a darkened corner of the room, she’d bet that’s the one he’d choose. Fourteen was an incredibly awkward age, too young to drive but already fascinated by girls and thinking about dating—despite claims to the contrary.
Inside, though, she found him standing with Coach Maddox right in the center of the main room. The team was seated around a long stretch of tables that had been pulled together.
“I thought Kyle might want to sit with the team, if that’s okay with you,” Cal said. “Then you, Katie and I can sit over here where there’s at least a slim possibility we’ll be able to hear each other.”
Maddie glanced at Kyle. There was no mistaking the eager expression on his face. “Just don’t bug your brother,” she advised him.
“I won’t. I promise.”
She waved him off to join the team, then gave Cal a look of gratitude. “Thank you for saving him from a fate worse than death.”
“Being seen with Mom on Friday night?”
“Exactly.”
“I was a teenage boy once, too.” He pulled out a chair for her and then did the same for Katie, who seemed completely taken aback at being treated like a grown-up lady.
“I think I owe you for something else you did tonight, too,” Maddie told him as she accepted the menu he held out. Now that she was here, breathing in the rich scents of tomato sauce, garlic and the yeasty, thick crust that was Rosalina’s specialty, she realized she was as starved as the kids.
“Oh?” Cal asked. “What did I do?”
Maddie lowered her voice so Katie wouldn’t overhear. “Bill left and took Noreen with him because of some signal you sent him, didn’t he?”
Cal shrugged, looking vaguely embarrassed. “I have no idea.”
Maddie regarded him skeptically. “Come on, tell the truth. How’d you manage to get him out of there? Maybe it’s a technique I can use when he doesn’t have the sense to keep that woman away from us.”
“I think he just realized that her presence was upsetting Ty’s game,” Cal said.
“He’s usually too self-absorbed to realize something like that,” Maddie persisted, then glanced at her daughter to make sure Katie’s attention was elsewhere before adding, “Since you didn’t climb into the stands and shake him the way I was tempted to, you must have given him some sort of subtle man-to-man signal.”
“It was nothing.” Cal glanced deliberately at Katie. “How much pizza can you eat, young lady?”
“Lots and lots!” she said eagerly.
“What kind?”
“Just cheese.”
He turned to Maddie. “And you?”
“A couple of slices and a small salad will do it for me.” As hungry as she was, she had her limits.
“Just cheese?”
“Unless you’d rather have yours loaded up with extras. I can eat anything.”
“Nope. Just cheese works for me.” He beckoned to the waitress, the dark-haired, dark-eyed daughter of the owners, “One large cheese pizza, one small salad, one large salad and Cokes all around.” He glanced at Maddie. “Is that okay?”