Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) (3 page)

“Good morning,” I greet her as I sit down, wrapping my purse around the chair.
 

“Hi! I’m glad you found the place. Parking is horrendous, but the food is worth the pain. I love coming here. They serve breakfast all day. You must try it. You
must
.”

Well, if she’s insisting, I guess. I don’t have a craving for anything in particular, so if she can pick for me, great. “Who’s this little girl?”

“This is Mona. I’m sorry. I forgot to mention her the other day.”

“No, no, that’s fine. I didn’t realize you’re a mom. That’s wonderful.”

Mona is cute and chubby with light blonde hair that’s stick straight and thin. Her big cheeks are puffed out and she’s smiling now, bouncing her arms up and down.

“How old is she?” I’m so bad with ages, especially in regards to babies and kids. I’m not around them very much, either.

“Almost six months. I’m so glad she’s here. After fifteen years of marriage, we finally got pregnant. We were ready to give up when a test came back positive! Tracking my ovulation and needing Clark to be ready to go at any minute was wearing me down.”

The waitress interrupts us and takes our drink order. Gretchen sticks with water, and I request an iced tea. Even in my thin strap tunic and floral skirt cut right above the knee, I’m still hot. Summer will be over soon, though, so I should enjoy these eighty and ninety degree days while I can. Soon winter comes. Have I mentioned how much I hate winter?

Once the waitress leaves to get our drinks, I scoot my chair in some more. “Wow. You’ve been married fifteen years?” I’m not even sure I own anything that old.

Mona tries to grab the menu from Gretchen, who gives in and lets her take it. “Yep. We’ve actually known each other our whole lives.”

That’s amazing to me, to be friends with someone your entire life and then marry that person. Besides my brother and my aunt, I can’t think of one person living I’ve known fifteen years. I don’t keep in touch with anyone from high school and my last job didn’t allow any sort of a social life. The time between that I like to forget.

“What do you do, Gretchen? When you’re not bowling and taking care of Mona?”

“Not much else. I’m a stay at home mom and I love every minute. This girl keeps me busy.”

I imagine she does, in between Gretchen giving her kisses. She’s adorable, but a sad reminder I’m not even close to this stage of my life. At this point, I doubt I’ll even be blessed with children. Give me a cat and call me the cat lady because I’m sure that’s what’s in store for me.
 

“Are you married? Kids? Job?”

The million dollar question. Did I think by my mid-thirties I’d have a husband and family? Definitely. The one relationship I expected marriage out of ended once I realized my needs ceased to be important. You can’t be a couple if only one of you is on the receiving end of love. Love is acceptance, appreciation, and support. My ex gave me none of that. Rather than suffer another broken heart, I focused on work. And I still do. But I can’t stand the question. I hate trying to defend my single status. “No, nope, and realtor.” There. All three questions answered, simply.

As if sensing my need for distraction, the waitress returns with our drinks and to take our order.
 

“Try the Eggs Benedict,” Gretchen suggests.

I decide to try them, but she only gets toast. I don’t ask why she didn’t order the same since she made the recommendation.

“Bowling.” Gretchen starts. “First practice for you should be next Tuesday. We have a game the first Friday of the month. I told my brother about you and he’s excited. He didn’t want to miss this season.”

“His fiancée doesn’t mind?” I’m still a tad apprehensive about taking the place of this guy’s soon-to-be wife. Clark and Gretchen made it clear I shouldn’t worry, but it’s not so much worry as sheer uncomfortableness. The league may not officially be couples, but it’s mostly made up of them.

“Don’t worry about her. You’ll never even meet her. She probably sprained her wrist on purpose.”

What kind of person would hurt themselves intentionally? I don’t question Gretchen’s comment, though I’m curious. Once we spend some more time together, maybe I’ll ask. She’s piqued my interest a bit with this statement. I wonder what kind of a person this woman is.

Gretchen pulls out her phone and snaps a picture of herself and Mona. “Should we send that to Daddy?” She asks Mona in a baby voice.

“What does Clark do?”

“Software developer. He loves his job and it’s
so
flexible. He works from home a lot. His boss adores him.” She grabs onto Mona’s hands. “And we do too, right, honey?”

The food comes and we begin to eat, all the time Gretchen talking my ear off. I can’t remember the last time I was this sociable. Probably college. “Clark helps out around the house then?”

“Oh, yes! He’s a dream. Most nights I relax while he takes care of Mona. He’s very hands on. Tell me, no one special
at all
in your life?”

Why do I
need
a man in my life? I’m married to work. I like it, and it keeps me out of trouble. Besides, the most special man in my life passed away a year ago.
Taken from me
. This isn’t what she means, though. She’s wondering the same thing everyone does. Where’s my boyfriend? My husband? Someone with whom to grow a family? Or a friend with benefits? “No boyfriend. No prospects. I’m too busy with my job anyway.”

“You’re never too busy for love, Kate.”

I stop chewing my eggs, my fork hovering in the air. Is that it? Do I make excuses
not
to meet anyone? Do I pass up opportunities without even realizing? “Well, I am. I barely can fit bowling into my schedule.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Because it’s important to me.” I don’t even need to think about that.

“Isn’t love?”

What is Gretchen, some sort of love guru or possibly Leo Buscaglia reincarnated in the body of a housewife? “Sure, love’s important. I can’t help it if it hasn’t found me.” I drink half my iced tea. Can we move onto the next subject?

Mona lets out a squeak and smiles at me. Gretchen nestles her face in Mona’s neck and gives her a kiss. Maybe I
don’t
put enough priority on my love life. Maybe I
do
focus on work more than I should. Why is that a bad thing, though? Why is my choice to live a loveless, childless, work-oriented life looked down upon?

Except I don’t think I’m choosing it. It chose me.
 

Bowling is something I used to do almost every week, so why is this so difficult? I’m first to arrive at practice, and I’m relieved because I need time to process this. The last time I threw a ball my dad was alive and I was in a much better place. I think I’m ready — at least my therapist seems to think I am. Still, I stare at my bowling carrier, paralyzed.
 

This shouldn’t be so hard.
With a cautious hand, I unzip the bag and wrap my hands around the red ball. I stay put for a moment, embracing the cold polyurethane and reminding myself over and over I’m only playing a game. I shouldn’t be frightened.
 

“Face everything head on. You’re a strong woman,” my therapist said to me at our last session before I moved. “Soon you’ll start to do the things you did together, and it won’t hurt as much.”

This does hurt. More than I could have ever imagined.

I can’t help but scold myself, convincing my heart I’m doing something wrong by being in a bowling alley without him. This was
our
time together. This is how we bonded. What kind of an adult am I if I’m unable to throw a damn ball down a lane because it’s something I did with my dad?
Grow up, Kate. Start moving forward.

With that, I draw in a relaxing breath and lift my ball up.
 

Ten pounds shouldn’t be hard to lift, but today, it seems impossible. I used this ball for years, won and lost my fair share. Now, holding my past in my hands, ready to do this again, it’s surreal. But it
is
real. This is happening. I’m doing this.

I cradle the ball as I place it in the ball return like a newborn baby. Soon it will be racing down the lane and crashing through pins. I’ll let it enjoy these last few moments in peace. I take out my tattered shoes and replace my slip on canvas with them. I catch my breath as I hold in a tear, remembering my father in this moment. I’ll survive this.

While I wait for everyone, or anyone for that matter, to arrive, I pull out my phone and shoot an email to Janice suggesting an open house. I’m clueless as to how I can make this house presentable, especially since she refuses to lift a finger. I’m sure she’ll agree seeing she doesn’t live there so I can pretty much show the property at any time. I answer a few emails and check social media and finally Gretchen and Clark hop into the lane.

“Kate! You’re here!” Gretchen embraces me as though we’re old pals. I keep my hug back light, but she pulls me in much tighter than I’m comfortable. My goal is to one day be at ease with this, to offer hugs to my new friends and share with them like I’ve been a member of their group for years. Today is not that day. Yet.

“I sure am. I’m ready to bowl!” I’m trying hard to mean the words I say. I
want
to be ready. I
yearn
to be ready. There used to be a time holding that ball empowered me. The simple thought of a strike brought a smile to my face. Now I’m hoping I’m able to knock all the pins down without breaking down into tears.

This is good, though. I need this. If at the end of the night I’m balled up in the corner sobbing, so be it. Maybe they’ll be happy tears.

“Everyone else should arrive soon.” Clark sets both his and Gretchen’s bags down. “We can get a good practice in. First game is Friday, so we need to focus and come together as a team. Clark’s Pin Crushers are here to crush some balls!”

Clark is such a nerd, and he’s going to be so much fun. I’m sure of it. But is he listening to the words coming out of his mouth? Crushing balls? I’ve never met any man who thinks
that
sounds pleasant.

I can tell by Gretchen’s smile what a great guy he is and they’re lucky they found each other. No wonder she questions my being alone. Everyone deserves a relationship like theirs.

“So who’s the best on the team?” We’re in this together, but I want to size everyone up.

“Tiffany, by far. She should be here soon.” Gretchen takes her ball out and massages it with a rag before placing it next to mine. “She and Taylor have been on the team since we started playing years ago. They’re both pretty good, but she’s practically untouchable.”

“Why doesn’t she play on a competitive league for cash and prizes then instead of on a recreational one?” My dad played for money and he did well, until it became the death of him.

“Taylor got her into it. He’s her best friend and wanted her to join with him. Clark and Taylor work together.”

“She would do awesome on a league like that, but she’s in it for fun.”

“I can’t wait to meet her.” In a matter of a week, I’ll have been introduced to five new people outside of work. Not too shabby. My therapist would be happy about that.

“No need to wait!” Clark waves over to two people walking in. “They’re here.”

A tall redhead with hair like Julia Roberts and slick, thin glasses bounces down the stairs along with a younger looking guy with blond, wavy locks that graze his eyebrows. “Hey guys! Are you ready for another great season?” The girl glances over at me. “Hi! I’m Tiffany.”

“Kate.” I stand up and shake her hand.
 

“Taylor.” The boy states and greets me. He looks really young. I don’t know how he and Tiffany came to be friends.

“We’re waiting on your brother?” Tiffany raises her voice at the end of the statement. “That’s not like him.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure Little Miss Perfect is holding him up somehow.” Gretchen rolls her eyes. “Let’s start. He can catch up.”

••••••••••

“Kate! You’re too modest. You’re an awesome bowler!” Gretchen high fives me as I achieve my third strike.
 

I’m on fire and couldn’t be happier. Now that I’m holding a bowling ball and knocking down those pins, I can’t believe how much I missed out on. All those months I spent drinking wine in a fit of tears, shock, and denial. Time heals all wounds, but confronting the sorrow and forcing myself to carry on is what I really needed. I understand this now. Here I am, my muscles relaxed, my mind at ease, and I’m making friends.
Friends
.

“Is your brother getting here soon?” I’m anxious to size up my partner. I’m curious if his hair is wavy like Gretchen’s and if he’s as straightforward and easy going. Is he younger or older than her? “Is he half as good as I am?”

“Wow, you’re pretty sure of yourself.” Clark is sitting back at the table enjoying a beer. I’m not much of a beer drinker. I prefer the gentle flavor of the vine over the harsh aftertaste of fermented yeast.

“The proof is in the numbers, Clark.” I point to the scoreboard, and I’m clearly in the lead, even beating out Tiffany, though she’s closing in behind me. Picking up the ball again is like riding a bike. I didn’t lose my ability. I’m still good.

“You think so, but maybe I’m only holding back until Friday,” Clark teases me. He talks so much game, and I can’t wait to find if his smack holds up this week. The day I met him and he bowled with Gretchen he tossed the ball with determination, his focus unsurpassed. It’s too early to tell if he’s better than me, but we’re definitely great competition for each other.

“Remember, we’re on the same team.” I enjoy friendly rivalry, but we can’t lose sight of the goal.

“True, true. But the more I try to kick
your
butt, the better I’ll play and kick the
other
team’s butt.”

I like how Clark thinks. Gretchen married him for his amusing personality, no doubt. He’s cute in a boyish kind of way. Not like Taylor. He’s young in every sense of the word. Clark’s face is soft, welcoming. He’s one of those people that if I stood next to him in the grocery line, I wouldn’t think twice about striking up a conversation. He’d always participate in the discussion. Like Gretchen, Clark smiles a lot.