Better Than Perfect (8 page)

“Zach, take a breath. Let Johnny think about the first question before you bombard him with twenty other things.” Alice placed her hand on her son’s shoulder. It wouldn’t be long before she’d have to reach up to do so.

“Dinner sounds good.” Johnny wasn’t quite ready to come down from his high yet. He wasn’t ready to return to his apartment. Alone. “Do you want me to pick up some take-out?”

“No. I’ll cook. I owe you, anyways, for stepping in on such short notice.”

“You’ll cook?” Johnny couldn’t help but tease her a little bit. Back in the day, she could barely make ramen. But mostly because she’d been busy with other things. Like him. If it hadn’t been for Mel, they might have all starved to death.

“Yes. I cook. I’m pretty good, actually.” She seemed a little offended. Or maybe a little embarrassed about the reminder from their shared past. “Right, Zach?”

“Oh yeah. My mom makes the best pot roast, and meat loaf, and pasta primavera and pie.” Zach was either in on the charade or he was actually fond of his mother’s cooking skills. “Even better than Nannie Frannie.”

“Is that so?” He smiled at the boy and then turned his gaze to Alice. “I seem to remember one Thanksgiving when the three of us came to their house and the food was almost the best thing about the whole trip.”

Johnny didn’t mention the part about sneaking into her room at night, thankful that he’d been able to give her seconds…and thirds, if he remembered correctly.

“Yes. Well, I learned a lot from her.” She looked away, possibly because she, too, recalled the details of that trip. There weren’t many corners of San Francisco they hadn’t turned into their personal playground.

“So, you pitch?” Johnny turned his attention to where he needed to keep it focused. On the kid. “That’s great. I’d like to see what you’ve got.”

“Really?” Zach beamed. “I’ve only got a fastball and a changeup. Mom won’t let me try a curveball yet. She says it will ruin my arm.”

“Well, it can. If you don’t learn how to throw it properly.” Johnny remembered being his age, and wanting nothing more than to learn the specialty pitches that looked so impressive on TV. But his coach took the cautious approach. Made sure he had command of his fastball and could throw an off-speed pitch to keep hitters on their toes. It took him years to understand his coach’s reasoning. He’d also seen his fair share of promising young pitchers leave the game too early due to injury. Most of them had been pushed too far too fast.

“Thanks,” Alice mouthed, and gave him a grateful smile.

“So when do you want to see me pitch?” Zach asked. He was trying to sound like he wasn’t at all excited about the one-on-one lesson.

“Whenever you want.” Johnny pulled a t-shirt over his head and couldn’t help but notice Alice looked relieved. And maybe a little disappointed.

“Like, now?” Zach asked.

“Sure. Unless you have homework or something.”

“No. I mean, not much.” Zach’s face lit up. “And I can finish it after dinner.”

“Do you have your glove?”

“Yeah. Of course.” His tone suggested that it was a silly question. Didn’t everyone carry their glove with them at all times?

“Okay, let’s head over to the practice mound.” He had to give the kid points for enthusiasm.

Besides, Johnny could use a game of catch.

* * * *

“Do you mind if I tag along?” Alice asked, even though she had no intention of missing out on this.

“If you want.” Johnny grabbed his glove, a well-worn model that was almost an exact copy of the one he’d used in college. It was the same one she’d bought for Zach, because he’d begged for a glove just like Johnny Scottsdale’s.

She followed them to the indoor practice field. They started slowly, getting a feel for each other. They tossed the ball back and forth in the timeless ritual played out by fathers and sons for generations.

Alice couldn’t breathe. And she couldn’t deny the possibility that she was watching a father-son game of catch. Only, neither of them knew it.

She’d kept the two of them apart. She had her reasons. Denial being the biggest one. Looking at them now and realizing how many games of catch they’d missed, she wondered if she could have done it differently.

She’d seen firsthand what happened to a man who sacrificed his dream for a family he wasn’t ready for. She’d lived her whole life knowing that, if not for her existence, her father might have made something of himself. He might have been a star of something bigger than a small town varsity football team.

It didn’t matter. Johnny had made it. He was a star. If he put himself in the limelight, he could be a superstar. He didn’t date supermodels or movie stars, and he didn’t appear on reality shows or celebrity competitions. Just played his game and played it well. And he kept his private life private. While he might be one of the best pitchers to ever take the mound, he wasn’t generally recognized out of uniform.

She imagined he liked it that way. Never one to play for fame, he just wanted to win. To do his job to the best of his ability and come back and do it again five days later. She’d read the articles about him. He’d been called a workhorse. A solid player. A quiet champion.

His nickname was “The Monk.” He was well known for his calm composure on the field. His almost Zen-like control. The tighter the game, the more focused he seemed. The higher the stakes, the calmer he appeared. He never got rattled. Something to be praised in an All-Star pitcher. But it had driven her crazy in their relationship.

Maybe she’d expected too much of him. She’d wanted romance and flowers and pretty words. He’d been able to give her friendship and passion, but not poetry. Or promises. Whenever she’d pressed for assurances about their future together, he’d become restless and withdrawn. She’d thought it meant he wasn’t serious about their relationship. But maybe she’d been asking too much. He’d always been a little insecure about his place in the world. Outside of baseball, he thought he had nothing to offer.

So, she’d made sure he had baseball.

Just like she’d made sure Zach had baseball. Maybe it was her subconscious way of connecting him to his real father. Or maybe it was her way of staying connected to the man she’d never stopped loving.

Oh, she’d made a huge error. She never should have let Johnny go. She’d been so afraid of losing him, that she’d pushed him away. She hadn’t known she might be pregnant. She’d thought it happened the night she and Mel went out to celebrate Johnny’s success. They’d had a little too much to drink and instead of getting behind the wheel, they’d gotten a hotel room. One thing led to another and when she missed her period a few weeks later, Mel proposed.

Neither of them wanted to acknowledge the possibility that the baby could have been Johnny’s. They both knew Johnny was headed for the big leagues. He deserved a chance to follow his dream. She couldn’t take that away from him. Not when there was a chance he’d be giving it up for a kid who wasn’t even his.

But now, seeing the two of them together, she wondered if she’d done the right thing. If Zach was Johnny’s son, they’d both missed so much.

* * * *

Alice sent Zach in to shower before dinner. She took the opportunity to take a good look around his room. He still kept a few Lego creations gathering dust on a shelf, but she was seeing fewer and fewer signs of the little boy he used to be. The Thomas the Train set had been replaced by baseball card collections, and
Sports Illustrated
magazines were piled up where his picture books used to be. His elementary school drawings had been taken down to make room for Goliaths pennants and posters of his favorite baseball players. Including the one of Johnny Scottsdale tacked up over his bed.

She’d never really looked too closely at the poster. She didn’t need a reminder of what she’d given up. But now, she couldn’t help but notice how much he looked like Zach. The eyes mostly, but also the curve of the lips, the set of the jaw that was becoming more apparent in Zach as he grew older. Did he look up at the picture and feel like he was looking into a mirror?

“Mom! What are you doing in here?” Zach stood in the doorway, with a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair still dripping from the shower. She remembered with a pang when he would run down the hall naked, not caring who saw him in his birthday suit.

“I was just making sure your room was company clean.” She picked up his glove off the end of his bed and set it on the dresser. “In case you want to show Johnny your trophies, or something.”

“Do you think he’d want to see stupid Little League trophies?” Zach tried to sound like he couldn’t care less, but she knew him. He was trying not to get his hopes up.

“I think he would be impressed by your accomplishments.” She swallowed, trying not to let her voice betray her emotions. He couldn’t know that Johnny might be more than just a guest. At least not until she knew what to do about it.

“Yeah, right. Like my t-ball participation trophy is going to mean anything to a guy with two Cy Young Awards.” Zach rolled his eyes, not understanding how his award could measure up to the one given to the best pitcher in the league.

“You never know.” Alice slipped out of the room so Zach could get dressed. And so she could regain her composure. That t-ball trophy would mean something to Johnny if he was Zach’s father. But it would also serve as a reminder of the things he’d missed. Would Johnny have traded his All-Star appearances, his Cy Young Awards and his perfect game for the thirteen years of memories he hadn’t been there for?

Or would he have resented them for taking away his dream? She never wanted Zach to feel the burden of knowing he was the reason his father had given up on his shot at making it as a professional athlete. She knew what that felt like. Knew all too well. Her father had passed up a football scholarship to work at the mines and support the family he’d never planned on. She couldn’t do that to Johnny or Zach.

Johnny arrived right on time. He even brought a bottle of wine. A California zinfandel that would go perfectly with the pot roast she’d put in the Crockpot that morning.

“Thank you for coming.” She took the bottle and led Johnny into the dining room. She and Zach usually took their meals at the breakfast nook, but she needed to put more space between her and Johnny. Although having an entire continent between them hadn’t done much to cool off her feelings for him.

“Would you open the wine?” She handed him a corkscrew. “I have a few more things to get from the kitchen.”

“Sure.” Johnny made quick work of uncorking the bottle. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“No. I’ve got everything under control.” Except her heart rate. Her emotions. Her longing to touch him again.

Zach came into the kitchen, wearing his nice clothes. He wore a button up shirt tucked into dress slacks. All that was missing was a tie. Wow. This was important to him. Did he suspect that Johnny was more than just a friend? Or was he simply trying to impress the man who’d been his hero for so long?

“Will you take the salad to the table?” She tried to sound normal. To keep the pride from sneaking into her voice. “Johnny’s already here.”

“He is?” Zach smoothed his hair back. Yes. He was hoping to impress. “Cool.”

Alice picked up the platter of pot roast, potatoes and vegetables. She carried it into the dining room as if she were serving any other meal.

“Everything looks delicious.” Johnny was talking about the food, but he looked at her with a different kind of hunger.

“Thank you. It’s Zach’s favorite.” She glanced at her son, hoping he wouldn’t notice the color in her cheeks. The warmth that spread all the way down to her toes from the sound of Johnny’s voice.

They sat, and Zach loaded his plate before she even had the chance to unfold her napkin.

“My mom makes a killer pot roast,” Zach said through a mouthful of food.

“Zach.” Alice shot him a look meant to remind him of his manners.

“Well, you do.” He swallowed before speaking, but wiped his mouth with his sleeve. His napkin was still folded beside his plate. She glared at him and he got the message, slinking down in his chair a little as he spread the cloth over his lap.

“I have to agree.” Johnny gave her a warm smile as he dug into the meal. “This is very good.”

Alice watched Johnny and Zach mirror each other’s movements. They were so much alike it was as if they were related. Neither of them liked to talk much while they were eating. The quieter they were, the more they enjoyed the food. They were both quiet tonight. She could tell Zach must have a zillion questions for Johnny, but he didn’t know where to start.