Fourth Down Baby: A May-December Romance (20 page)

“
T
hank you
, Doctor Baker,” I say quietly before hanging up my phone. I've never, ever in the entire time that Bill Moss has been the pastor at New Harvest, heard of anyone telling him off the way Cory did, and honestly, it makes me worry. Cory's smart, he's loyal, he's brave, and he's a wonderful man . . . but Bill has power in this town.

I'm still thinking when Cory pulls in, bounding out of the car with tremendous energy. He's got an intense but happy look on his face, and I wonder what he's been thinking about.

“Patricia?” he asks when he comes in the door. “I'm home!”

“In the kitchen. I was making some herbal tea,” I call, and he comes in after setting his briefcase down. He sees me and pulls me into a hug, spinning me around twice before setting me down. “Well, I guess the checkup went well?”

“My checkup was fine,” Cory says, “but more importantly, I ran into Bill Moss.”

“I heard,” I admit a bit nervously. “Doctor Baker called and said you two had a rather . . . loud conversation in front of his office.”

Cory nods, still grinning. “Yeah, it was great. I finally told him what I think of him, but I thought of something else as I did.”

“Cory, that's great, but pissing off Bill Moss . . . it could make things more difficult for you,” I say, but Cory shakes his head. “What?”

“Do you remember what I told Pete, about having 'fuck you money'? Well, we've got that. But that's not important. What's important is the people who are in our lives, the people that we love. Moss, Trevor Bana, all those people—they aren't important. You're important to me. The most important thing in my life, and you're the reason that I'm able to be the man I am. And you're the mother of my child. So I thought about it. I don't want to wait any longer. I've waited years, circling this idea, when the truth has been staring me in my face the whole time.”

“What truth?” I ask, my heart stopping when Cory gets down on his knee and takes my hand. He takes a box out of his hand, opening it to reveal a beautiful gold ring with a diamond sparkling in the middle. “Oh, Cory . . .”

“Patricia, you're my heart, my soul. I've loved you since the first time we kissed, and I don't want to take small steps any longer. I want to be with you, by your side, for the rest of our lives. So . . . Patricia Nelson, will you marry me?”

“Cory,” I whisper, tears in my eyes, not able to finish a sentence from the emotion. I stroke his face, looking at the heartfelt, vulnerable expression in his eyes. He's right, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him too. But first . . . “Can you give me a few hours? One or two at most?”

Cory blinks, surprised by my answer. “A few hours?”

I nod, smiling. “Cory, our family is unique. And I want to talk about this with someone else before I give you my answer.”

“Who?” he asks, not concerned but just intrigued.

I smile and kiss his cheek. “My daughter. Get dinner started, and let me try and call Whitney. If you don't mind . . . I'd like her blessing.”

“Of course,” Cory says, getting up and putting the box with the ring on the counter. He's not angry or hurt. In fact, he looks happy and touched that I want to include Whitney in my decision. “Mind if I change out of my suit first?”

I laugh and smack his butt. “Of course not.”

Cory leaves the kitchen, and I go over to my bag, retrieve my phone, and go into the back yard. The early October sunset is cool, a welcome break after the warmth of summer, and the breeze kisses my forehead and cools my neck while I wait for the phone to ring.

“Hello, Wood house, Laurie Nelson speaking.” She's so cute, and I'm smiling despite the nerves that I feel.

“Well hello, Miss Nelson. This is your grandma. Is Mama there?”

“Hi, Grandma! Sure, Mama's here. She's just messing around with some baby stuff. Hold on,” Laurie says before setting down the phone and hollering loudly, “Mama! It's Grandma!”

I hear footsteps running away from the phone, then softer footsteps approaching. Whitney picks up the phone, laughing to herself at her daughter. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, Whitney. You know, I don't think Laurie's ever going to be as shy as you were growing up.”

Whitney laughs, each chuckle lightening my mood. “Nope, she's so much like her father that I'm just waiting for her to ask for a helmet for Christmas. She certainly runs like a linebacker. What's up?”

“Well, Cory and I just had an interesting conversation,” I start, leaning against the back fence of the house. “He . . . he asked me to marry him.”

“You better have said yes,” Whitney replies immediately. “Or else I'm sending Dani after you!”

When I don't laugh, she grows serious. “Mom, what is it? Seriously.”

“Nothing, honey,” I reply, suddenly choked up. “It's just that . . . Whitney, last time, it was just you and me. Now I have Cory and another baby coming, and it feels like . . . it feels like our time as a team is coming to an end. I don't want to lose that.”

“You're not, Mom,” Whitney says, and I can hear the emotion in her voice taking away my fear and nervousness. She understands our bond and how it can never be broken. Changed maybe, but never broken. “You and I, we're always going to be a team. You're never going to lose me. We're just going to keep adding more and more. Friends, family . . . hey, you're giving me a little brother or sister, remember?”

I laugh, tears coming to my eyes, and nod. “Whitney, can you . . . can you give me your blessing on all this?”

“On one condition,” Whitney says. “You have to promise that you two will get married when I can be there. Be engaged as long as you want, but I'm giving you away at the altar.”

“I promise. Timing might be a little tight, but I think we can fit it in between the end of Troy's season, your baby's birth, and ours. I'd like it before our baby is born. No real reason, just . . . I'm more old-fashioned than you guys, I guess.”

“And Cory loves you for it, Mom. He's the man who was born for you, just like Troy was for me. So yes, you have my blessing.”

We talk another few minutes before I hang up, after telling a very excited Laurie the news. I wait a while to regain my composure before going inside, where I'm immediately hit with the heavenly scent of shrimp and pesto.

“The angel hair's going on in about ten minutes,” Cory says, and I'm struck again at how handsome and comfortable he looks in a t-shirt and jeans, although he's added an apron over his shirt. He's moved the box with my engagement ring up onto the higher shelf that's at his eye level, keeping it out of the way of his cooking. “I just want to give the lemon butter sauce a chance to reduce a little more before I put it on. It cooks so quickly, you know.”

Despite his casual, confident words, I can see he's nervous as the wooden spoon he's using chatters on the edge of the pan. I come over and turn the fire off, moving the frying pan. “Dinner can wait. Let's talk.”

Cory nods, unable to meet my eyes he's so nervous. “Okay. So . . . you and Whitney talked.”

“We did. And she had some questions, and I had some too. First, one of mine. Why'd you go off on Bill Moss?”

Cory takes a deep breath and looks me in the eyes. “Because years ago, when I was just a high school kid, I was crushing on you. And you were right then to send me away. I needed to grow up a little. But I think I knew even then that I’d never find another. And I could tell then too that you wanted Whitney back. It was men like Moss who fed your fears and sent her away, and nearly sent me away. I only held on because I'm a damn fool who's stubborn and won't give up on something worthwhile once I see it. But I'm glad I did. Still, since then, even when we visited before he pulled that crap on you, I didn't feel a hundred percent about it. So I did it for me, and yes, for you. And Trevor Bana should be glad that I haven't run into him in town yet.”

“Oh? You going to kick his ass?” I ask seriously. Cory thinks about it, and I can tell he wants to, but instead, he shakes his head.

“You wouldn't want me to be violent, as much as it's tempting. But . . . I don't know if I can ever forgive him for what he did to you.”

I nod, then wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him. “Thank you. For your honesty, for your desire to protect me, but also for respecting me and for loving me like you do.”

“Forever,” Cory promises. “I'm always going to love you.”

“Then next question,” I say, looking up into his handsome face. “Whitney demands that she gives me away at the altar, so we would have to wait until the off-season in order to get married. Can you wait that long?”

“I'll wait as long as you want,” he answers, smiling. “So did she give her blessing?”

I smile and reach up, taking the box with the ring off the shelf and tapping his chest with it. “Hold your horses, mister. My question now. Whitney and I, we've been a team since the moment she was born. Can you accept that and that she's always going to be vital to me?”

Cory laughs and nods. “Of course. You have no idea just how similar you two are. The first time I saw you, and I've been reminded many times since then, I felt that you two are more sisters than mother and daughter.”

“Flattery . . . such flattery,” I tease, then step back. “Then on your knee again, Cory Dunham.”

Cory gets down, taking my hand and smiling. When I don't say anything, he arches an eyebrow, then realizes what's missing. He takes the box from my other hand and opens it again, holding it up for my inspection. “Patricia Nelson, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

I nod, leaning down and kissing him tenderly on the lips. “Yes, Cory Dunham. I'll happily marry you.”

T
he backyard
of Troy's house is crowded, with nine children and ten adults in the grassy area. Laurie's nearly ten now, so she's on the cusp of her tween years, and because of that, she looks a bit uncomfortable with all the little ones around her, but she's trying her best to not create too many problems. After all, she doesn't get a lot of time to hang out with her extended family. With Tyler and April up in Toronto, never mind Dani, Pete, Patricia and me in Silver Lake Falls, she's trying her best to hang out.

“Did you ever think that we'd be able to fit nineteen people in this house?” Troy asks me as he and I man the grill. The charcoal's going well, and we can start the steaks in about five minutes after we get the hot dogs on for the little ones.

“It helped when you bought the neighbor's house. So when are you planning on putting up the fence again? You know, for renters and such.”

Troy looks over at the still freshly turned dirt where fenceposts used to be, and he shrugs. “Who knows? It's not like we can't afford to have an empty rental property for a couple of years. It'll be nice, too, when Duncan, Carrie, Cammy and Mark come up to visit.”

I shake my head. It's hard to keep up with the number of kids. “Three for you, two for him, two for Tyler and April, Dani's got little Catrice and is pregnant again, and I've got Ryan. We keep it up, and we're going to have a whole basketball team in boys and girls before too long.”

“Nah, three's enough for Whit and me,” Troy says, grabbing the hot dogs. “It’s not like we can’t afford it. And I love ‘em to death, but three is already a handful as it is.”

“I hear ya,” I say, watching as Troy puts the hotdogs down on the grill, each one sizzling as the natural casings hit the heat. Our kids might eat hotdogs. I can't stop that, but I can control how good the damn hotdogs are. “But no talk of money today, man. You know what I've come to realize money is?”

“What?” Troy asks with a smirk, putting down more of the hot dogs. I'm glad we've got a big grill. Nine children can eat a lot, even if most of them are still preschoolers. I bought twenty, just in case Duncan wants a few. He normally eats clean, or else Carrie works it out of him. She's really become almost infamous within the League community for the workouts she can put together, but he does like processed dogs every once in a while. “Not the root of all evil?”

I laugh and take the first of the plates of steaks and check the seasonings. “No. It's a tool, nothing more or nothing less. It's a way for us to be able to do the things we want in life and to make sure that our children and maybe our grandchildren can do the same thing. So when I'm picking out investments for us, I think, 'this apartment building is going to pay for Gavin's college,' or 'this stock is going to let Whit take that trip to Australia that she's been talking about.' And I want it to be that way for every generation of our family that comes after, too.”

Troy nods as he starts to turn the hot dogs. “You ever get worried that we're going to be rich enough that we're going to have some Hilton or Kardashian kids?”

I shake my head, laughing. “No way in hell. Laurie's the oldest, and she's doing well. Look at her playing with Ryan.”

Troy looks, where Laurie is patiently playing with her 'uncle' Ryan while Cammy and Petey Barkovich play on the nearby slides. “She's a good kid.”

“Because of her father and mother,” I remind him. “Still, I feel bad for you in two or three years. She's as beautiful as her mother and grandmother.”

“Tell me about it.” Troy chuckles. “Steak.”

I hand Troy the first steak, and he slaps it on the grill. “So are you ready for football camp tomorrow? It's going to be Coach Jackson's last year, I heard.”

Troy nods, a bit sadly. “Yeah, it'll be hard thinking of Silver Lake High without Steve Jackson as head coach. Still, he'll be sticking around as AD, did you hear?”

“He'll do well,” I agree. “They named a new coach yet?”

Troy shakes his head, then smiles. “Maybe they'll have a slot for me in about five or six years.”

“You getting old that quick?” I tease him. “I mean, I know you finished your degree, but I thought you still had at least one more contract in that old body.”

Troy laughs and puts another steak on the grill. “Old, huh? I've got one more in me. I think that'll be it, though. Ten years, and I'll still be able to enjoy the last few years of Laurie's high school time. I’ll find something to take up my time. Maybe I'll take up BJJ like Pete, or who knows, you and I can bike around the lake once a week. I know Whit would love to spend all the time back here, even though her art dealing is going so well. It's a game for her now more than anything.”

“Patricia and I would like that too, man. Not to mention, our boys could make quite a pair terrorizing Silver Lake High.”

“Yo, guys, I've got the duck confit potatoes ready!” Tyler calls, carrying out a platter from inside. “And poutine!”

Troy groans, laughing. “Duncan, I thought he was from Cali like you!”

Duncan, who's been chatting with Pete, probably about BJJ since Pete just got his purple belt, shrugs. “Blame April!”

April, who's been talking with Patricia, shakes her head, laughing. “You guys just don't know good food! I'll trust the guy who takes classes under Michelin starred chefs over you two!”

“We can't top that one,” I note, and Troy chuckles.

“No, we can't.”

* * *

“
S
o you enjoyed yourself
?”

Patricia smiles and snuggles into my arms. It's warming in the evenings, but the view from Slater's Point is one of her favorites. “I did. For three days a year, our whole clan's together. It's nice.”

“I agree. Even nicer that Whitney agreed to let Ryan stay overnight with them. I think he and Tyler are having a slumber party or something.”

“Two Tylers,” Patricia says with a small chuckle. “And two Petes, although Petey has a good reason. We've gotta make sure everyone's got a list to remember all these names. Dani's not allowed to copy any names when her daughter comes.”

“Actually, she told me she and Pete have already picked out a name. They told me during clean-up.”

“Really?” Patricia asks, turning her beautiful brown eyes to look up at me. In the fading sunlight, she's still so beautiful, my throat catches. Years of marriage haven't faded that feeling at all. “What did they decide?”

“You're going to have to get used to another copy,” I say. “Because in a month or two, Patricia Whitney Barkovich is going to greet the world.”

Patricia’s moved, I can tell, and I take her hands, pulling her to her feet. “A little dance?”

She nods, and I go over to our car, turning on the sound system. The familiar strings and bass start, and I pull her close, our feet moving on the dirt as our song plays. As Vanessa Williams's voice fades at the end, I smile and kiss her, holding her close. “I love you, Patricia.”

“I love you too, Cory,” she says, squeezing tight.

“You know,” she says, “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to get frisky in a public park after dark.”

The idea stirs deep within me, and I lean in, kissing my beautiful wife while cupping her ass and squeezing. “Feeling adventurous?”

“With you, every day is a life-changing adventure,” Patricia replies, cupping my own backside and purring. “I'll never grow tired of it.”

Neither will I.