Welcome to Bluestone 1 - Bluestone homecoming (9 page)

And Max hit the next ball. Foul on the first
base line, but he hit it, and was so excited he tossed the bat.
Trinity’s reflexes were pretty good, but the flying bat hit her
calf, hard enough to make her gasp.

“Whoa. You okay?” Leo strode forward to check
on her, catching her bare arm and bending to look at the damage. It
was already red and a bit swollen, and Leo turned to Max,
frowning.

Trinity squeezed his arm, forestalling the
scolding, and addressed the boy. “You hit the ball! That’s great.
How did it feel?”

“Awesome! Let’s do it again.”

Leo’s frown hadn’t faded, his focus on her
leg. “We need to get some ice on that.”

She drew away. “It can wait. Come on, Dad.”
She took her spot behind the plate. “Let’s do it again.”

“Trinity! Time to go!” Her mother’s voice
carried over the field.

Trinity straightened automatically. Once
again she felt nine years old as she pivoted to see her mother,
father and brother waiting in front of the church. “I’ll be home
later!” she called.

“We’re going to breakfast.”

“I know.” They’d done so every week as long
as she could remember. “I’ll be home later. You go, have fun.”

Her mother’s disapproval traveled across the
field faster than her voice did, and she stood beside the minivan a
moment, her fist on her hip, conveying her opinion of Trinity’s
choice. But for the first time in years, Trinity couldn’t make
herself care. Finally, her father said something, and her mother
got into the car, closing the door with more force than
necessary.

Only then did Trinity remember Leo standing
beside her, watching the whole thing.

“My family—we’re creatures of habit. We don’t
like change.”

“Yeah, a lot of that around here. Are you
sure you’re okay?”

For a moment he thought he was talking about
her decision, but he motioned to her leg. “I’m good.” Though she’d
have a monster bruise tomorrow. “Let’s go again. This time, hang
onto the bat, Max, okay?”

Leo managed to wrangle some more kids
wandering around the park into an impromptu game. She understood
what he was doing, trying to get Max interested in something,
trying to help him make friends. She hoped his plan worked. The boy
needed something concrete to hold onto, especially if his dad went
back to the war zone.

***

Leo glanced around at the crowd that had
gathered, some kids in church clothes, others in jeans and
sweatshirts. Some were playing, other people were watching,
gathered around the rickety bleachers. Max had long since declined
to step up to the plate, considering the big audience, and was now
outfield with Leo.

Leo wound up for a pitch, focusing on the
batter. Behind the scrawny kid, he saw Trinity sway on her heels.
He lowered the ball and motioned for another kid to take his place
on the mound, then motioned to Max, who was braced to catch a pitch
in the outfield.

“Let’s go get some lunch.”

“I’m not hungry,” Max said.

Of course he wouldn’t be. He’d demolished
half a dozen pancakes at home. He’d never seen a kid so skinny eat
so much, though his mother said he’d been much the same. Even Leo
had done some serious damage to his mother’s breakfast, unable to
remember the last time he’d had a home-cooked meal.

“Yeah, but our catcher hasn’t eaten,
remember? We’ll split a burger at Quinn’s. They’re pretty
good.”

“I can’t go to Quinn’s. It’s a bar.”

“It has a bar. It’s not a bar. Like Chili’s.”
Leo looked to Trinity for confirmation.

She lifted a shoulder. “I’ve never seen kids
there, but if he’s with you I’m sure it’s not a problem.”

Trinity stumbled a bit in her shoes as they
made their way toward the road. Leo steadied her with his hand on
her elbow, and stopped himself from rubbing his thumb over her
smooth skin. He let his hand fall away, too aware of his son
walking beside them, of their neighbors out and about. So he didn’t
touch her, even though he wanted to.

“No doubt Quinn has some ice to put on that
bruise,” Leo said as they walked up the stairs into the bar.

A moment of awkwardness descended as they
stepped in the door, when the dozen or so patrons looked from Quinn
to Max and back again. Quinn inclined his head, indicating a table
at the far end of the room, away from the big screen TV
broadcasting an NBA game. Leo nodded and led Trinity and Max over.
The waitress Beth followed them, taking in Trinity’s dirt-smudged
skirt as she did.

“What have you guys been doing?”

“Playing baseball. Worked up an appetite.”
Leo held the chair for Trinity before settling Max in. “Hey, do you
think we could get an ice pack for Trinity? Bat mishap.”

Trinity lifted her hem to show the bruise.
Beth winced and nodded, then took their drink order and turned
away.

“So,” Trinity began once the drinks were
delivered, tracing the rim of her glass. “Have you thought about
maybe coaching a Little League team?”

He snorted a laugh. “Why would I do
that?”

“You had great patience out there on the
field today with the kids. I think you’d be good at it.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have that kind of
patience. I mean, Max is my kid. But someone else’s kid? No. I can
see myself screaming and getting some parent pi—ticked at me.” He
glanced at Max.

“It would be a good way for Max to channel
his energy, and a good way for him to make friends. Isn’t that what
helped you fit in here?”

That she’d come to the same conclusion he had
made him scowl. “Been checking up on me?”

She blushed, the prettiest color pink he’d
ever seen. “You came up in conversation with Lily. She said you
were an excellent player.”

Leo focused on the menu a moment. Limited as
it was, it offered a momentary respite from her prying. “I loved
it.”

“So what happened?”

He shrugged and placed the menu on the table
in front of him. “You know. Growing up. Finding other things to be
interested in. Moving from a small town to a big city was an
adventure, so much to see and do. No more time for baseball.”

“Poor baseball. I’m sure it felt very
lonely,” she teased.

He grinned. “It found some other
schmuck.”

She became serious again, both hands folded
around the bottom of her iced tea glass. “I think you still love
it, and you want Max to love it. I think he would, if he had others
to play with.”

He didn’t like the picture taking root in his
head, a group of kids on the field in uniforms, Max up to bat,
being cheered by his teammates. Him on the sidelines in a team
shirt and hat. That was not who he was, not who he wanted to
be.

But Max needed an outlet, like she said,
needed something to love. And it would be something the two of them
could share.

To Trinity, though, he shook his head. “I’m
not that guy.”

She didn’t pursue it. Liv would have, would
have charmed him into taking the position and he would have
resented it. As much as he’d loved Liv, she knew how to get him to
do things he didn’t want to do. But Trinity merely sipped her tea
and changed the subject to the basketball game on TV.

Leaving him with that disturbing picture in
his head.

***

Trinity looked up at the rap at her office
door Monday morning. Her pulse kicked when Leo stuck his head in.
“Got a minute?”

She stood and smoothed her hands down the
front of her skirt as her mind raced to figure out what he could
want. “Sure. What is it?”

He crossed the small space and plopped into
the stiff chair across from her desk. Only then did she notice the
file folder in his hand. She smoothed her skirt again and sat in
her wobbly computer chair.

“I made those calls you and Lily wanted me to
make. I found a projector in Duluth that we could rent weekly. Not
sure who you’ll get to drive to Duluth every week. I found one on
eBay for three grand. We can hook up a DVD player to it, and some
speakers, and we’re good. We may need to look into licensing for
the right to show movies. We could buy an inflatable screen for
another three grand, if we don’t want to project on the side of the
building. What? What’s wrong?”

“We don’t have three thousand dollars to
spend on something like that.” Disappointment weighted her heart.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d been looking forward to those
evenings. “Oh, well. We’ll think of something else.”

He frowned. “Okay, maybe we don’t have the
cash, but maybe we could make the movies themselves a fundraiser. A
couple of dollars a person or something. We could make the money
back by the end of the summer if we do it every weekend.”

Hope fluttered. “I doubt the town council
will approve the expense.”

“Then I’ll buy the bloody thing. Look, you
asked me to do this and you gave up so easily? I didn’t think that
was like you.”

It was her turn to scowl. “You don’t know
me.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I thought you were
excited about this.”

“I was. I just didn’t think it would be so
costly.”

“And I have a solution. Two, actually. I can
afford three grand. No one needs to pay me back.” He shoved to his
feet.

“Why are you mad?”

“I’m not mad. I’m just—” He blew out a
breath. “You and Lily tell me what the town needs, what you want it
to be, but you’re not willing to pursue it?”

She leaned forward. “I’m trying to make life
better here, not put another hardship on the town. And I don’t want
to be beholden to you if you buy this thing.”

His blue eyes flashed as he dropped back into
the chair across from her. “I’m not asking for anything. You wanted
it, I can buy it. I’m not going to miss the money.”

She eased back, closing her fingers over the
edge of her desk and dropping her gaze to the blotter. “I wouldn’t
go around telling everyone that.”

“I’m not. I’m telling you.” The intimacy of
his tone dragged her attention back to him.

“Why?” she demanded, and immediately wished
she hadn’t. She didn’t want to know why he felt comfortable
confiding in her, because he wasn’t bragging, only stating a fact,
something she never would have guessed from his demeanor.

“Why what?”

“Why are you telling me?”

“I don’t know.” The words exploded out of
him. “Because I get the feeling you won’t go tell the town. Because
I get the feeling it doesn’t matter to you. Because…” But instead
of adding to the list, he shook his head and rocked back in the
chair. “Tell me what you want to do about this.” He lifted the
folder.

She sighed. “Let me think, okay?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded,
though it clearly wasn’t the answer he wanted.

“Were you able to get through to Maddox
Bradley’s people?”

“I’ve got a call pending. I left my
credentials. I hope they’re impressive enough to get a response.”
He tapped his front pocket, where his phone was. “Just waiting.
Lily has me pricing other stuff, too. She said there’s another town
hall meeting next week? Why so soon?”

“We have a lot of business to cover. If this
concert thing doesn’t play out, we need to try something else.
There’s no time to waste.”

He nodded and stood. “Right. Well, I’ll let
you get back to work. I’m going to look in on Max.” But he didn’t
leave right away, and she wondered at his hesitation. “I’ve been
thinking about your baseball team idea. Are there other teams in
the area we could play?”

“I can check, but I’m pretty sure.”

“And there are boys here who would be
interested?”

“And girls,” she added with a chiding
smile.

“Right. Are there?”

She smiled as the tension eased. “I can check
into that, too.”

He nodded, his focus on one of her
motivational posters, her favorite, which read, “Education isn’t
filling a bucket. It’s lighting a fire.”

“I’m thinking about it,” he said. “Don’t
promise them anything.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He shifted his gaze toward her again and
flashed a quick grin. “Don’t think you’ve talked me in to
anything.”

She lifted her hands, palms out in surrender.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“All right. Going.” He rested his hand on the
doorknob. “See you.”

She didn’t stop smiling for a long time after
he left.

***

Leo’s days were busy now, with the slogan
contest, some other odds and ends he took over at the paper and
Lily’s ever-growing list of things for him to do in his “free”
time. His editor wasn’t thrilled that he was taking the leave of
absence, when the magazine had worked so hard to get him stationed
with the troops in Afghanistan, but Leo had more than enough
material to complete the assignment from home. He’d go back
overseas in June. By then Max should be better settled.

He was never late again to pick up his son.
The two of them would head to the diamond, and every day, more and
more kids showed up to play along. He didn’t know if Trinity sent
them or not.

He’d wanted nothing more than to kiss her
when he’d gone by the school earlier this week, had wanted nothing
more than to kiss her when he saw her after school every day. He
got the idea she didn’t always pull after school duty, that she was
out there to see him, and the idea pleased him more than it
should.

Today he crossed the yard and handed her a
sheaf of papers after he collected Max.

“What’s this?” she asked, puzzled, then
lowered her head to read. Her face lit up as she took in the retro
graphics he’d added, read the Wolfman Jack style tone he’d
composed. “Oh! Movie night! A Fifties theme!” She lifted shining
blue eyes to him. “You bought it.”

He lifted a shoulder casually, though relief
coursed through him. He hadn’t been sure how she’d react after
their last conversation. But seeing her smile was worth every penny
of the money he’d spent. “I made forty flyers. Not sure if you want
more.”