It’d been about two weeks and I’d stayed home with Dad every day. Everything about it was perfect, to be honest. We’d talked about baseball and pretty much everything else but Ethan. I ordered takeout and talked Dad’s ear off. Dad was a quiet guy, a listener. Unless it was baseball related. Maybe he wasn’t that way until he had to raise a snarky daughter on his own, and then the snark doubled once Kelsey came into the picture.
Dad didn’t ask about Ethan and I didn’t know what I would’ve told him anyway. If he knew some of the things Ethan had done, he’d probably try to hunt him with a shotgun. I wouldn’t have blamed him. I tapped my chin. Maybe I should tell him.
“You ever going back to work?” Dad leaned over to look at me.
“Don’t start. The game is on.”
“Fine. You see where Salvatore got a hundred and ten million?”
I sighed. I’m sure Dad knew Ethan worked on that deal. It was all over SportsCenter. Dad must’ve thought he was clever, using baseball to get me to talk about my job.
“Yep.”
“The house is too quiet. You need to talk?”
The doorbell rang, thank God. I stood up and kissed Daddy on the forehead. “I’m fine. Stop worrying.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Just zip it. I said I’m fine.” I walked down the hall and through the living room to the door.
A deliveryman stood there in a green polo shirt holding the most gorgeous arrangement of flowers I’d ever seen, red and white roses and calla lilies.
“Are you Jenny Jackson?”
“Yes.”
“These are for you.” He held them out.
I snagged the card from them and left him holding the vase.
Jenny,
I’m sorry. Can we please talk?
Ethan
I stuck the card back on the little stick holder that held it up. “I was mistaken. She doesn’t live here anymore.”
“Now, Jenny, you know that isn’t true.”
My gaze shot toward the driveway. Matt Stallworth was walking up.
Oh, what the hell was this?
“What are you doing here?”
He walked up and took the flowers from the delivery guy. “I’m here to see your dad.” Matt walked right past me into the house and set the flowers on the table. “Oh, these are pretty.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.
“Jenny, who is it?” Dad called from the other room.
This was a disaster. If Matt made it to the room Dad probably would never let him leave the house. I was on his heels in a matter of seconds.
Fucking Ethan. How cool was it that Stallworth was in my house, and how uncool was it that I had to be pissed off about it?
“You can’t go in there. He needs his rest.”
Matt grinned at me like he saw right through my little plan. “I’m sure he can spare a couple minutes.” He patted me on the head like I was a child. “I hear he’s a big fan.”
“I know you’re here for him.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. I’m here to see your dad.”
“Grr.” I stomped behind him.
He was a few feet from the room when he stopped and turned around. “Will you just talk to the guy?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Why? Why should I, Matt? Do you know what happened?”
“Yeah, you’ve got me there. I probably wouldn’t talk to him either. But I’m not as nice as you.” He waggled his eyebrows again like it was a big game.
It was kind of cute in a way. I liked Matt, I really did. He seemed like a genuine, nice guy who cared about his friend. And yeah, maybe his friend had a lot of shit going on in his life and was dealing with stuff. But he should know better than anyone else that there are still repercussions for treating people the way he treated me. It was no excuse.
“Please. It’s just better this way. For both of us.”
Matt leaned down a little because he was a good foot taller than me. “Look, you don’t have to talk to him. But at least let him do something nice so he can at least say he tried to make it right.”
“Jenny! Who is it?” Dad hollered.
“I’ll be there—”
“It’s Matt Stallworth, sir.” Matt chuckled at me.
I frogged him on the arm.
“Ow!” He rubbed his shoulder. “I have to play tonight. Shit. You punch like a man. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“Ha! That’s rich. Jenny, tell that guy we don’t joke about shit like that around here.”
I pointed a finger in Matt’s face. “You owe me for this.”
He held up his hands. “Fine. Just don’t punch me again. Jesus.”
“I’m serious. Your ass better go four for four with a home run and at least five RBIs.” I glared.
“Good God, this fucking game again? I’m not Babe Ruth hitting home runs for a sick child.”
I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Fine. I will try.” He walked through the door to Dad’s room before I could say anything else.
“Well I’ll be goddamned,” Dad said.
I followed Matt into the room, and it was impossible not to smile. Dad hit a button on his bed and started to move upright. He winced.
Before I could react, Matt was at the side of the bed propping a pillow under Dad’s back.
“What game you watching?” Matt asked.
“The fucking Yankees.”
I snort-laughed and covered my mouth. It was impossible to not get emotional the way Dad’s face lit up around Matt.
“They’re a bunch of assholes. It’s true, sir.” Matt didn’t miss a beat.
“Don’t you boys have a game soon? Why aren’t you on your way to the field?”
“Well…” Matt turned to me and then back to Dad. “It’s kind of why I came by. I was going to see if you guys wanted to go to the game.”
“Matt, there’s no way—”
He cut me off. “Don’t worry, it’s all arranged. If you guys want to go, you’re there.”
“Fuck yes, let’s go!” Dad moved a little and winced again.
“Daddy, I’m sorry, but you can’t go to a baseball game.”
Mat turned to me. “Sure he can. We have transportation, a place for you guys to watch in an air-conditioned suite. Medical staff. Food. Everything.”
“It’s incredibly sweet, Matt. It really is, but—”
“Well, I’m going.” Dad glanced over to me. “This is my last chance to go to a game, sweetie. Grab that bag of pain meds and let’s hit the fucking road.” He nodded up to his IV drip, then turned to Matt. “Let’s do it.”
“Yes, sir.” Matt started toward the door.
“And make sure you go zero for four with four strikeouts. You’re on her team.”
“This fucking family takes fantasy baseball way too seriously,” Matt mumbled as he walked past me.
I returned Dad’s smile. We sure did.
A medical van took us to the stadium and we rode a freight elevator up to the suite. Dad never left his hospital bed. Matt took his truck and left before us because he had to get ready for the game. They wheeled Dad through some double doors and over in front of some windows where he could see the field. I opened the door to the outside seats in front of us so that we could hear as well.
“Matt Stallworth was in my house, Jenny.” He gripped my hand. “Best fucking player since Mickey Mantle. I’m telling you.”
“Yeah, you’ve told me once or twice.” I grinned.
We watched both teams warm up, and all the pregame stuff. It was almost time for the national anthem when the announcer started talking over the loudspeaker.
We would like to honor a special fan this evening. He’s been a fan since the early seventies and was a thirty-year season ticket holder. Please help us pay tribute to Brian Jackson. Thank you for all the years of dedication to our boys, Brian.
All of the air in my lungs left my body. When I saw the pure elation on Dad’s face, and a tear rolling down his cheek as the stadium roared with cheers, I thought my heart might explode. He reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight. I’d never seen him cry, ever.
“D-did they just say my name? T-tell me this isn’t a dream, Jenny. T-tell me I’m still alive and you’re still here with me.”
I covered my mouth and tried to fight back the tears. I’d never heard my father stutter. Not once in my entire life. He always knew what he was going to say before he said it.
“Yeah, Dad. They sure did.”
I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.
Fucking Ethan. He was playing dirty. I shook my head and couldn’t stop smiling.
“Only one day in my life, Jenny. Just one tops this.” He leaned his head over and looked at me.
I returned his stare. “What was it?”
“The day I saw you for the first time.”
The men in my life were relentless, both determined to turn me into a giant puddle on the ground.
I wiped the corner of my eye.