CHAPTER FOUR

Sutton waited for Harper to fasten his seat belt before shifting into gear and backing the Jeep Wrangler out of the driveway. When he’d walked out of the house at exactly ten, he’d found the teenager waiting for him. It was a positive sign that the young man was serious about adhering to the terms of their agreement.

“I like your Jeep, Mr. Reed.”

Sutton gave him a sidelong glance. “Thank you.” He paused. “Do you like cars?”

Shifting slightly on his seat, Harper smiled. “Yes. Once I got my license, I asked Zoey if I could drive her van when she’s not using it.”

“What did she say?”

“No, because she needs it to get to work, and if I got into an accident, she would be assed-out.”

Sutton’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Did she actually say assed-out?”

“Not really. My sister doesn’t like it when I curse, but that’s because she’s old-school about a lot of things. She’s not even thirty but she acts like an old fart.”

Struggling to tamp down his rising temper, Sutton stared out the windshield. “If your sister, whom you refer to as an old fart, hadn’t gone along with our deal, then you would’ve been handcuffed and shackled while riding in the back of a police van on your way to the court this morning. I’m certain a judge would probably believe putting you in jail is what you’ll need to get rid of your feigned badass attitude. And, I don’t want you cussing around me.” He gave him a quick glance. “I’m running this show, not you, so it’s either my way or the highway straight to the county jail. What’s it going to be, Harper? I can’t hear you,” he goaded, when he encountered silence.

“It’s your way, Mr. Reed.”

Sutton forced a smile. He did not want to bully the boy but knew instinctively that Harper Allen was going to be challenging. One year he’d made a commitment to an organization to mentor at-risk youth and he’d been assigned to mentor several boys living in a Georgia group home. Most were in awe of his celebrity status but there was one training to become an amateur boxer who wouldn’t stop harassing him until Sutton put on a pair of boxing gloves and got into the ring with him.

He’d managed to sidestep his opponent’s first punch before, with a sweeping motion with his foot, he took him off balance, and he went down within seconds. Not only was he bigger and stronger and had incredible eye-hand control, but Sutton had no intention of hitting the boy but rather embarrassing him. It worked, and in the six weeks that ensued he’d formed a bond with all five boys that continued even after they’d aged out. They continued to keep in touch with him on Facebook and Twitter, updating him on what was going on in their lives. Two had graduated school and enrolled in college; the wannabe boxer who’d had an illustrious amateur career had turned pro; one had enrolled in the military while the remaining one fell through the cracks and was in prison serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole for first-degree murder.

Despite four of the five beating the odds to become productive citizens, it was the last one who grieved Sutton, and although he did not blame himself for the young man’s choosing to become a criminal, he was troubled by the fact that there was no hope of him ever venturing beyond the walls of a maximum security prison.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I believe we’re going to get along,” he said to Harper. “Are you thinking about joining a sports team when you go back to school?”

“No, sir.”

“Why not?”

“I like basketball and football, but my sister would never let me play football because she doesn’t want me to get concussions. She’s studying to become a nurse, so she knows a lot about the human body.”

Sutton had to agree with Zoey. If he’d had a son, he would be reluctant to allow him to play football with the increasing numbers of professional players being diagnosed with brain injuries. He then recalled Zoey telling him she was a home health aide. “Is she in nursing school?”

“Not yet. She says she wants to wait until I graduate. She’s waiting to become a nurse and she’s waiting to get a boyfriend.”

Sutton’s eyebrows lifted slightly with Harper’s reference to his sister not dating anyone, and he did not want to ask the boy if she was dating someone now. “How tall are you and how much do you weigh?” he questioned instead.

“Six one and one seventy,” Harper replied.

“You would be perfect for basketball as a small forward.”

“I shoot hoops with my friend Jabari. Even though he’s taller than me, I’m able to beat him when it comes to three-pointers.”

Sutton heard the pride in Harper’s voice. “Where do you shoot hoops?”

“We go over to the high school. A couple of years ago they added an outdoor basketball court.”

“Times have really changed because when we wanted to play basketball it was always in the school gym.”

“Mr. Reed, why did you decide on baseball instead of football? Because you’re a real big dude.”

Laughter rumbled in Sutton’s chest with Harper’s reference to his size. At six four, two hundred and thirty-five pounds, he’d had the speed and bulk to become a linebacker, but since retiring from baseball he’d shed twenty pounds and worked hard not to regain it. There was space in his condo where he’d set up an in-home gym and worked out every other day. The exercise equipment, along with the condo’s furnishings, was in a storage unit until he found permanent housing.

“I tried out and made the football team but after sitting on the bench for a year I decided to switch to baseball. It was the best decision I’d ever made, because I really love the game and, thankfully, I’ve never had a concussion.”

“It’s not only the head, Mr. Reed. When I see football players sitting in ice baths after a game, I tell myself that’s not for me,” Harper said, frowning.

“Word,” Sutton drawled.

Harper laughed, asking, “Did you ever take an ice bath?”

“The closest I get to something that cold is putting an ice pack on my knee.” Slowing and signaling, Sutton turned down the road leading to the downtown business district. “We’re going to stop in the shoe store first before heading over to Powell’s.”

* * *

Zoey had just turned off the vacuum cleaner and stored it in one of the closets off the entryway when she heard her brother’s and Sutton’s voices. The weather had cooled enough for her to turn off the air conditioners and open windows to let in fresh air.

When she’d gotten up earlier that morning, her intent was to give the house a thorough top-to-bottom cleaning to get that task out of the way so she could enjoy her two-week vacation. Other than working in her garden and catching up on reading, the only other thing on her to-do list was going on Powell’s website and ordering school clothes for Harper.

She refused to think of how mundane her existence had become because she had only two years before she could begin to live on her own terms. Harper had made the high school’s honor roll and talked about attending college. She hadn’t had to withdraw any money from the scholarship fund established by the Wickham Falls residents following her parents’ death, and with accruing interest there was enough of a balance to cover four years of tuition for public and some private colleges.

Opening the front door, she walked out onto the porch to find Harper exiting the Jeep holding several shopping bags stamped with Powell’s logo.

She rested her hands at her waist. “What on earth did you buy?”

“Stuff,” Harper said, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Yeah, stuff,” Sutton repeated like a coconspirator.

Harper mounted the stairs, Sutton following, and leaned in close to Zoey. “Mr. Reed brought me the latest Jordans and a pair of Adidas running shoes.”

Her jaw dropped and she wanted to go off on her brother but decided to wait to talk to Sutton. Harper had been asking for the Jordans, but she did not have several hundred dollars to spend on a single pair of sneakers that he would either wear out or outgrow in the next six months. And not when she had to buy clothes because many of those he’d worn no longer fit.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Harper must have registered the censure in her voice when he turned to stare at her.

“I didn’t ask Mr. Reed to buy them for me.”

“He’s right. I offered to buy them,” Sutton confirmed.

Zoey gave him a level stare. “We need to talk.” She did not want Harper to take advantage of her neighbor’s goodwill, while she also did not want Sutton to give her brother whatever he asked for. She’d discovered after a few incidents that Harper could turn on and off the charm and he was also quite adept at becoming very manipulative to get his way. Cupping her elbow, Sutton led her to the love seat, waiting for her to sit before he took a facing chair.

Sutton held up a hand. “Before you go off on me, I want you to know that Harper didn’t ask me to buy the Jordans. I’d noticed him staring at them while the salesclerk was looking for his running shoes, and I’ve seen that same expression on the face of countless young boys who want something they couldn’t have because their parents need the money to pay the rent or mortgage, or put food on the table. There are times when I asked myself when did a pair of sneakers become handmade designer shoes with price tags comparable to Crockett & Jones?”

“You are preaching to the choir, Sutton.”

A hint of a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “I’m glad you agree.” He cleared his throat. “Now, back to your brother. I told him I’d buy the Jordans, but he had to do something to earn them.”

Zoey exhaled an audible breath. “What?”

“We worked out a system of barter. Whenever he mows your lawn, he’ll also mow mine.”

“Was that your suggestion or Harper’s?” she asked.

Sutton leaned forward. “It was his. Under another set of circumstances, I would’ve bought him the shoes with no strings attached.”

“Do you make it a habit of buying kids expensive sneakers?”

“I did at one time. I joined an organization nine years ago with other professional athletes that focused on mentoring kids, and even though I’m retired from the game it’s difficult for me to step away from that role. Every Christmas we would give the kids one item on their wish lists. Most times it was cell phones and sneakers. They’d get their wish and gift cards so they could buy things for their families. Your brother is a good kid, Zoey, straddling the line between boy-and manhood, and all he needs is someone who’s been there, done that to help him with the transition.”

Zoey gave him an incredulous look. “Are you saying you also got into trouble?”

“No, because my mother was the queen of tough love. She said she wasn’t going to use one copper penny of her hard-earned money to bail me out of jail if I’d had a sudden lapse in judgment and did something stupid that would get me arrested.”

“Did you believe her when she said that?” Zoey questioned.

Sutton flashed a wide grin. “Every single word. Michelle Reed was not one to issue idle threats.” Suddenly he sobered. “My mother worked hard and sacrificed a lot as a mother raising a boy on her own. And I don’t have to tell you that because you’ve had to raise not one but two boys as a single woman. But the difference is Mom had graduated college and was older than you when she had me.”

She nodded. “I have to admit at eighteen I was overwhelmed once I realized I had to become a surrogate mother and breadwinner for my brothers.” Zoey did not tell Sutton that she’d been numbed for days up to and including the funeral. It was only when the social worker came to the house to talk about placing her brothers in foster care that she felt a surge of protectiveness that she hadn’t believed she possessed. She’d sworn an oath that no one would ever separate her from her brothers. A smile parted her lips. “But when I look back, I’d do it all over again because Dad always said he wanted his children to be raised together because when his mother died his father split his siblings up between different relatives. One brother went to live with an aunt in Texas, another to an uncle in Colorado, and his sisters moved to Michigan to live with his older cousins. And because he was the eldest, Dad stayed with my grandfather. I suppose that’s why when my parents divorced Dad convinced my mother to let him have sole custody of me.”

A slight frown appeared between Sutton’s eyes. “Why sole custody when they could’ve agreed to joint?”

“Dad said he would’ve agreed if she hadn’t planned to leave the state. His fear was she would take me somewhere and he would never see me again. And if they’d shared custody, he couldn’t accuse her of kidnapping.”

“Where was she planning to move to?”

“I don’t know. Dad wouldn’t tell me. James Allen was a man of very few words. He’d get up every day, go to work and then come home expecting to find the house clean and dinner on the table.”

“How old were you when your parents divorced?” Sutton had asked yet another question.

“Two, and before you ask, I don’t remember anything about my mother. My dad got rid of all pictures of them together once they broke up, but I managed to find a photograph of her in an old high school yearbook and I cried myself to sleep for days because seeing it was like looking in the mirror. Dad paid one of our neighbors to look after me whenever he went to work until he married again. I’ll never forget the day when he walked in with a woman to tell me she was my new mother. Charmaine Jenkins was twenty and four months pregnant with my father’s baby.” Zoey nearly laughed aloud when she saw Sutton’s shocked expression once she’d revealed Charmaine was barely out of her teens.

“Did you get along well with your stepmother?”

Zoey smiled. “Yes. She was like an older sister because she was only eleven years older than me. Charmaine was an incredible cook and taught me many of the dishes she’d learned from her grandmother. She also showed me how to style my hair and apply makeup. And whenever I needed a dress for a school dance, she always volunteered to go with me and pick out something she said was certain to make the other girls jealous.”

Sutton’s smile matched hers. “So, she wasn’t the stereotypical wicked stepmother.”

“Not in the least.” Zoey sobered. “It may sound odd, but I miss her more than my father. This is not to say I didn’t love him, but he wasn’t the easiest man to get close to because he wasn’t prone to displays of affection. There were times when he appeared uncomfortable if Charmaine hugged or kissed him in front of us.”

Sutton studied the woman sitting across from him, thinking about all she’d had to go through in less than thirty years of living. Her father had attempted to erase all evidence of the woman who’d given birth to her. Why, he wondered, would a man do that? Especially to a girl who needed a connection with her mother. He wondered if Zoey realized how strong she was—emotionally. She’d survived losing three of her loved ones, counting her mother, and yet she held on to raise her brothers to adulthood.

Sutton wasn’t familiar with Zoey’s truck driver father because like some small towns and cities, Wickham Falls was divided into neighborhoods based on social class: college-educated professionals, civil servants, blue-collar workers, the working poor and those living at or below the poverty line. His family fell into the second category after his mother graduated college and found a position with the school district. It was only at school and during sporting events that all residents were equal.

He’d found himself drawn to Zoey because of her undying loyalty to Harper, who he suspected did not appreciate it. Sutton had suggested the plea deal more for Zoey than for Harper because he was aware of the sacrifices she’d made and pressing charges would only serve to compound the anguish she’d experienced over the years.

“I hope you’re not going to get on Harper about the Jordans.”

“I promise I won’t say a word.” She mimed zipping her lips.

“Thank…” His words trailed off when the sound of a car’s horn rent the air. Shifting on his chair, Sutton saw that the vehicle had stopped, and a teenage girl hung out the passenger-side window waving.

“Hi, Sutton!”

Nodding, he returned the wave.

“Aren’t you going to say anything to your fan girls?” Zoey teased.

He turned and glared at her. “Very funny.”

“I knew when you moved in next door that there would be more than the usual traffic on the block with folks attempting to get a glimpse of you.”

“I had enough of that when I worked at Powell’s.”

“Worked?” Zoey asked.

“Yes. My mother came up from Georgia, so she’s filling in for me.” Sutton pushed to his feet. “I’m going to let you get back to whatever you were doing. Now that it’s cooler, I plan to grill outside later today. You and Harper are more than welcome to join me.”

A beat passed. “I’d like that. Is there something you’d like me to bring?”

Sutton hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath as he awaited her reply, because somehow he’d expected her to decline his invitation when she’d hesitated. “No, thank you. I happen to have everything.”

“What about a salad and dessert?”

Sutton studied large dark eyes that never wavered whenever they met his. Strong. Confident. Those were the two words that came to mind when they interacted with each other. “Bring whatever you want.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “Are you allergic to anything? Chocolate? Nuts? Gluten?”

“No. I eat any and everything that isn’t raw or moves on the plate.”

Zoey smiled. “What about gelatin?”

Sutton laughed. “That doesn’t include gelatin.”

“What time do you want us to come?”

“Any time after four. By the way, do you eat red meat?” he asked.

“Yes, Sutton, I do eat red meat.”

“I had to ask because I want to make sure I have something that you’re able to eat.”

Zoey stood and rested a hand on his forearm. “I eat meat, vegetables and fish.”

Sutton gave the hand on his arm a gentle squeeze. “That’s good to know. Oh, I forgot to ask you if you’d be opposed to me setting up a portable basketball hoop in your backyard.”

“Why?”

“Because Harper may try out for the basketball team and I’d like to help him perfect some of his moves.”

“Why not baseball, Sutton? After all, you were and still are one of the best in the game.”

“Your brother admitted he’s afraid of a ninety-mile-an-hour ball coming at him, and you don’t want him to play football, so that leaves basketball.”

“You’re really going to coach him?”

Sutton almost laughed when she eyed him with a critical squint. “Yes. Why are you looking at me like that? You don’t believe I can get Harper on the team, do you?” Zoey averted her eyes. “How about a little wager?”

“Okay, Sutton.”

“What are you willing to put up if I prove you wrong?”

She lifted her chin in a defiant gesture. “It can’t be money.”

“I don’t want or need your money. How about a night on the town?”

There was no doubt his suggestion shocked her when she went frozen. Nothing moved. Not even her eyes. “In Wickham Falls?”

Throwing back his head, he laughed loudly. “No, Zoey. Not here.”

“Do I get to pick the place if I win?” Zoey asked. There was a thread of confidence in her query.

“Of course. And it will be the same with me.” He extended his hand. “Do you want to shake on it?”

She placed her hand on his outstretched palm. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“I’ll order the hoop and set it up.” Sutton released her fingers. “I’ll expect you later.” He’d gotten Harper to agree to try out for the basketball team, and practicing with him was certain to bring back memories of the days when Sutton had spent hours playing pickup ball with some of his mentees during the offseason.

“Later it is.”

He walked off the porch and over to his rental and around the back to the shed to take out the gas grill. He had asked Zoey if she ate meat because he’d married a woman who’d monitored every morsel she put into her mouth because as a swimsuit model she did not want to appear fat in her photo shoots. And it was her refusal to have a child because she felt it would impact her career that had shattered their marriage.

Sutton met Angell Bailey at a party during his last year in college and they hit it off immediately. She’d missed so many classes because of photo shoots that she had earned only enough credits to become a sophomore rather than a senior. They’d continued to date during his time in the minor leagues and married two months before he was called up to the majors. And whenever he cooked for her, he had to be cognizant of how much oil he’d added to the salad dressing and not butter her thin-sliced wheat toast. Angell never ate dessert or drank coffee or tea because she claimed they stained her teeth. However, there were occasions when she would imbibe too much, which she’d called empty calories, and then would embark on a two-week detox cleanse.

Sutton did not want to think about Angell or compare any woman to her; however, he’d found it difficult to erase eight years of marriage to someone he’d loved unconditionally. There were times when he would have preferred that she’d cheated on him if only to make their eventual breakup more acceptable. It was only when he’d suggested they adopt a child or children that he realized his wife did not want to become a mother although they had discussed and agreed to starting a family before they’d exchanged vows.

He forgot about Angell as he removed the cover from the grill and checked the gauge on the propane tank. It was almost empty, and that meant he had to drive into town and get another one from the hardware store. Since his return, a lot of people had gotten used to seeing him in the business district, some approaching to thank him for touting that Wickham Falls, West Virginia, was one of best small towns in which to grow up, while others had asked him to pose for pictures taken with their camera phones.

Sutton realized he was somewhat of a novelty because of his former high-profile status and once the newness wore off he would become another local resident added to the list of those who’d left and then returned to start over.