Mendoza's Return (7 page)

They met up with Elliot and his parents and talked about how the practice went. “I told Elliot we'd work on fly balls and grounders tomorrow. We can't practice here, of course, but I'll figure out a place.”

“Just let us know, and we'll be there,” Steve Anderson said.

Elliot had climbed into the car and was buckling his seat belt. Rafe said quietly, “I think we need to keep it just him and me. He's responding well to my coaching. Would you mind?”

“Will you be there?” Steve asked Melina. “Please don't take this the wrong way, Rafe, but I don't know you yet. Today everything was out in public. Elliot's—”

“I'll be there,” Melina said, interrupting, understanding a father's hesitation. She looked at Rafe. “We could use my parents' yard. It's plenty big.”

A few beats passed. “Works for me,” he said.

Melina heard reluctance in his voice, but the words were enough to satisfy a protective father.

“I'll email you the address,” she said to Steve. “Or I can pick him up. You and Debbie talk it over and let me know. Maybe you two would like to go out to dinner or something. Have a date night. Elliot could eat dinner with us at my mom and dad's house after practice. My mom would be beyond thrilled to have him.”

“Thank you, Melina. I'll let you know. He doesn't take to new people and situations easily, as you know,” Steve said, then leaned close. “I think he's already a little more animated, don't you?”

“I do.”

“He put on a hitting clinic,” Rafe said, then cupped
Steve's shoulder. “You've done a great job teaching him.”

“Thanks.” The word came out as if causing him pain.

Melina and Rafe watched the family drive off then headed for her car. People were coming and going all around them, the parking lot a hive of activity.

“Want to practice with us tomorrow?” Rafe asked Melina after she unlocked her door.

“You mean you would deign to allow me to play, a mere girl?”

“I don't know about deigning, but I'd let you.” His eyes sparkled. “Someone needs to run down the balls.”

“Very funny. Would you like to stay for dinner after?” She hoped that sounded casual enough. If she was going to form a new kind of friendship with him, she needed to seem unaffected by him, even when he was smiling at her in that way that made her heart smile back.

“Maybe you'd better check with your parents first, Mel. I'm
persona non grata
with them, aren't I?”

“I can't see them saying no.”

“Then, yes, thanks.” He started to turn away. “Will Elliot be able to be independent someday? Live on his own?”

“He should. Many people with Asperger's have good and productive lives. You can't even imagine how much playing baseball is going to help him. It's a microcosm of the big world he'll face.”

“Is there anything I should be doing differently with him?”

“Maybe talk to him when the opportunities come up about not hurting someone's feelings by what he says, not just once but every time something happens. Repetition is critical.” She cocked her head. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I've missed the game.” He looked toward the fields. “You came to every one of my games. I could hear your voice over everyone else's.”

“Are you calling me a loudmouth?”

“If the human megaphone fits…”

She gave him a playful sock on the shoulder, then they both laughed, something that hadn't happened since they'd met up again. It gave her hope that a friendship was in their future.

“Hey, Rafe! I heard you were back.” A leggy red head wearing skintight jeans and a low-cut, body-hugging T-shirt strode toward them, swiveling her hips as she walked. “Hello, Melina.”

“June.” Although she was dressed provocatively, June Adams was one half of the couple who'd been voted the second mostly likely to wed their senior year, and had. She and Wade had been married more than ten years and had two kids.

June gave Rafe a hug, flattening herself against him. He set his hands at her waist and eased her back. Melina frowned at the intimacy.

“How're you, June?” Rafe asked.

“Well, I'm doing fine, honey. Just fine. What're you doing dressed in your playing clothes?”

“Helping to coach one of the teams. What's new?” Rafe asked, giving her his full attention when she touched his arm, letting her hand slide down to his.

At the sexy gesture, Melina felt jealousy rise inside her. She wondered how her husband would feel if he was there to see June flirt so blatantly.

“I'm doing an article for the weekly on the start of baseball season. How 'bout I combine a couple of stories and write about you coming home
and
your return to baseball.”

“Beau's your man. This is all his.”

June maneuvered herself a little closer, putting herself between him and Melina.

“He was the story last year. This year we need a fresh angle.”

Melina knew a story couldn't be written about Rafe's return to local baseball without including Elliot, and that would have to be cleared with his parents. She shook her head at Rafe.

“Not interested, thanks, June,” he said. “Good to see you. Bye, Melina.” He headed for his car.

June turned toward Melina. “Well, don't you look precious in your baseball cap.”

Melina ignored the catty tone, unusual for June. While they'd never been really close, they'd always been friendly with each other. “How's Wade?” she asked.

June examined her fingernails then looked toward the horizon. “We split up.”

“Oh, June. I'm so sorry. I hadn't heard.” So much for the busy grapevine, Melina thought.

“You're the first person I've told, except for my parents. It just happened. I can't even say it was something in particular that ended it, but that it's been coming for a while. We just grew apart. I know it's a cliché, but it's the truth.”

“Doesn't make it any easier.”

“No. But I'll recover. The kids haven't fully grasped it yet. They're so little, you know? Anyway, I'm looking for a better job, so if you hear of anything, let me know, okay?”

“Sure.” Melina hugged her. June leaned in for a second then pushed away and left, not looking back.

A bright light clicked on in Melina's brain as she watched June walk away, not with the swagger of earlier, but slowly, more carefully, as if afraid she would stumble. Melina saw a new truth then, not just clearly but in full-spectrum color—she and Rafe never would've found the happiness they'd expected because, in the end, they'd wanted different things. They'd been right for each other as teenagers, with teenage dreams and idealism, but they were adults now, settled in jobs they were passionate about, jobs that were so different from their original intent.

What if they'd gone ahead with their plans? Would they have been doomed to failure as time passed?

She had little doubt that their desire for each other wouldn't have changed, because that had been a constant. But a long-lasting relationship needed much more than great sex to survive.

They could've ended up like June and Wade, hurting, but also distressed for their children.

Melina headed to her car, trying to think ahead and how she would get through these next few weeks—months, really, since she had to attend the games, too, and sit in the dugout. Maybe being forced to work together would help her and Rafe become friends again so they wouldn't be uncomfortable when they ran into each other around town. Maybe they could start over, create something wholly different from the people they'd
become,
not who they'd been.

The true test would probably come when she saw him with another woman. Just that glimpse of him hugging June had fired up Melina. When he started dating someone and being together in public, that would be the true test.

She hoped it didn't happen before she was ready.

“Y
ou dropped more balls than I did,” Elliot said seriously, factually, to Melina as they walked toward her parents' back door the next day after practice.

She shrugged and smiled. “I'm just learning. We did okay, though, didn't we, coach?”

“You did very well.” Rafe could see Melina's mother, Patsy, through the kitchen window. She'd been watching and cooking for the past forty-five minutes. Melina's father wasn't home yet, but her grandfather was perched on the back porch and had been coaching from the sidelines, directing his comments at Melina.

“Let me see that mitt,” Gramps said to her as she climbed the stairs. “Did you cinch it up with a belt last night like I told you?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“Leave it with me for now. I'll work it a little more. You get a better pocket in it, you'll catch the ball more.”

Rafe noticed that Elliot didn't look at her grandfather. Because of his gruffness? His age? His unfamiliarity? Not for the first time, Rafe wondered what it would be like to be in Elliot's head and see the world the way he did. He'd been excited about Rafe's trophies, and it had given them a connection they might not otherwise have had, but Rafe had to remember to be direct and specific with him. Elliot was more relaxed with Melina, but she wasn't new to him.

Rafe watched her toss her mitt and a ball to her grandfather then grip his shoulder and smile at him, getting a tender look in return. She'd always been like that—kind and caring, a toucher. She would've been a good lawyer, too, one who would've given her all for every client, every time. And she would've charged a sliding scale based on ability to pay, and done a lot of pro bono. At least, that had been her plan.

He considered his own achievements. He'd made a staggering amount of money for the few years he'd been in practice, but it hadn't come strictly from his profession. Mostly he'd let himself take huge risks by accepting a percentage in the businesses he represented instead of only a fee. Sometimes he lost, but mostly he won, selling his shares high, garnering
great profits. It had given him a solid reputation in his field as well as the freedom to come back to Red Rock at a time when his father needed him.

Rafe followed Melina and Elliot into the house. She pointed out the bathroom to the boy, gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, then washed her hands at the kitchen sink.

“Thanks for having me, Patsy,” Rafe said. “It smells great.”

“Every once in a while you just have to have homemade fried chicken, I think,” she said. “I invited your dad to join us.”

Rafe couldn't hide his surprise. “Did he say yes?”

“He did. I've invited him several times since your mother died, but he's refused until now.”

“He seems to be coming out of deep mourning finally,” Rafe said.

“I think he's trying to, for your sake,” Patsy said, lifting the last piece of chicken out of the cast-iron skillet, adding it to a platterful she was keeping warm in the oven. “You came home at the right time.”

“Thanks.” Rafe had always liked Patsy Lawrence, a feeling he knew used to be mutual. She was being polite but cautious with him now. Melina got her coloring from blonde and blue-eyed Patsy, although Patsy was willow slender, and her personality befitted the stereotype of a librarian, calm and knowledgeable.

“What can I do, Mom?” Melina asked.

“You can set the dining room table, please. Use the dark green tablecloth.”

“I'll help. Let me wash up first,” Rafe said, doing so, then going unerringly to the cabinet to get plates and glasses. He grabbed silverware from the drawer then went up beside Patsy.

“If my being here makes you uncomfortable, I won't come back again. I know Melina offered your house and yard without consulting you.”

She smiled a little. “I admit it's strange after all these years, but…bygones, you know?”

Elliot came back and stood just inside the doorway, looking unsure.

“My daughter told me you love baseball,” Patsy said. “I work at the library, and I saw a book there I thought you might like to read. It's on the kitchen table over there. Have you read it before?”

Elliot shook his head. He sat down to read. Rafe's hands full, he looked over Elliot's shoulder, seeing the book was baseball by the numbers—statistics of players and teams since the game began.

“Rafe Mendoza won't be in there,” he said to the boy, smiling.

“You were good enough to play in the big leagues,” Elliot said, not looking up from the book.

Elliot's comment struck a nerve that had laid dormant for years—until he'd gone to the field to speak to Beau the first time.

“Maybe. I had other plans,” he said to Elliot, sensing Patsy's interest in their conversation.

He carried the place settings into the dining room, where Melina was folding napkins. As he set down the plates, déjà vu struck him. How many times had they done this, exactly this way? Too many to count. She'd been a constant visitor at his house, too.

“June and Wade Adams are separated,” she said, looking up, connecting with his gaze. “She told me after you left. It came as a complete surprise to me. They always seemed fine whenever I saw them together.”

“Remember their wedding?” Rafe said. He and Melina had gone together, just a few weeks after high school graduation. At the reception, they'd danced and dreamed out loud about their own future wed ding. He'd never officially asked her to marry him, but he'd given her the promise ring, which meant he was promising to ask. He'd wanted to set a scene for that official proposal, something beautiful and memorable. If she wasn't going to be surprised by the question, she should be surprised at how he asked.

He remembered being happy that day, at Wade and June's wedding. His and Melina's lives were about to broaden immeasurably by going away to college and being independent. After dancing for a couple of hours, they'd driven to a hidden place by the river and made love, battling mosquitoes and laughing. Cherishing…

Then they'd sprawled, naked and satisfied, looking at each other, enjoying the sight. He hadn't dated any
one as curvy or as blonde as Melina since then—on purpose. No one who might remind him of her.

He wondered if she remembered that night in the same way. Then he saw her expression turn serious and her breath go shallow. She remembered, he decided, just as clearly as he, just as erotically. Her nipples were pressed against her snug T-shirt, then got visibly harder. So did he. And she noticed.

He moved around the table so that he could talk to her without being overheard. Barely any space separated them. “Why'd you kiss me the other night?” he asked.

“I couldn't help myself.”

“What are we going to do about it?”

“It?”

He knew she couldn't be that obtuse. “You know, Melina. The attraction that never dies.”

“It wasn't part of the plan I was formulating to only be friends with you,” she said, moving a little closer, looking at his mouth. “Maybe it should be.”

“Look who I found wandering outside,” Melina's father bellowed from the kitchen, the back door hinges squeaking. “Can I get you a beer, Luis?”

Rafe's father's much softer voice didn't carry into the dining room, where Rafe and Melina jumped apart, caught like teenagers by their parents, and busied themselves setting the table so that by the time her father burst into the dining room, they no longer looked guilty.

“Hey, Dad,” Melina said, going to give him a hug.

“How's my girl?” He patted her shoulder as she backed away. “Rafe.”

“Sir.” They shook hands, Rafe noting the suspicion in her father's eyes, the hesitance, but most of all the protectiveness.

His own father followed, a beer in hand. After greetings were exchanged, all the men wandered out to the back porch, taking Gramps a beer, as well.

Relief came over Melina once the door shut behind them. She wasn't sure what to expect putting that group of men together, but no fireworks so far.

She sat in a chair across from Elliot, who seemed comfortable being there, not fidgeting to leave. His parents had gone out for a rare dinner alone. Melina had hoped they wouldn't have to leave early and pick him up.

“Is Steph coming over, too?” she asked her mother.

“She's interviewing potential roommates now that Angie has moved in with Tommy. I think she's got three lined up for tonight. Would you grab the potato salad from the refrigerator, please? The rolls should be warmed enough, too. Green beans need to be put into a serving bowl.”

Melina kept busy with the tasks but wondered if her mom wanted to ask questions and yet not be intrusive into her oldest daughter's life. After the food was taken care of, Melina rested an arm across her mother's shoulder and said, “We're doing this for Elliot.”

Her mother smiled. “Are you?”

Melina nodded. “I figure by the time this is over, Rafe and I will be good friends, and I'll be glad about that.”

“Your father's not happy about it at all.”

“And you, Mom?”

“I see the hunger between you, Melina. I don't want you to suffer again.”

The meal started awkwardly then smoothed out as time passed and conversation came more easily. Elliot kept his head down and ate well, including a big slice of pecan pie.

“Thank you for dinner, Patsy,” Rafe's father said. “I haven't had chicken like that since…” He let the sentence drift off.

She laid her hand on the back of his. “It's Elena's recipe. She taught me how to fix it. I think of her all the time, but especially when I'm cooking certain dishes. She was the best cook I ever knew.”

He nodded, looking down and swallowing hard, which brought tears to Melina's eyes.

“I miss her, too, Luis,” Patsy said.

The whole table went quiet until Gramps said, “Did I tell you all that Melina thinks I should be dating?”

The conversation got lively again. Melina caught Rafe's gaze and smiled. It was such a familiar moment, all that laughter around the dining room table, although she felt the loss of her grandmother and Rafe's mother starkly.

The Andersons came to pick up Elliot, and the exodus began. Gramps yawned dramatically as his
clue to Melina he wanted to go home. She couldn't manage a second alone with Rafe, but watched him go then drove her grandfather to his house.

After that she needed a swim. The day had been more cloudy than sunny, so the solar cover hadn't warmed the pool as much as it did on clear days.

Pent-up desire drove her lap after lap until finally she had to stop. She leaned her forehead against the side of the pool to catch her breath before she climbed out.

“Need a towel?”

The familiar voice didn't really surprise her. She'd been torn between wanting him to show up and wishing he would stay away.

She lifted her head. He was crouched, waiting for her, her towel held loosely in his hands, his eyes searching, questioning.

“Yes,” she said in answer to everything and anything.

Then she climbed out of the pool and into his arms.