Page 42 of The Art Of Starting Over

Darcy stood next to him and sighed. “Figures.”

“Of course it does.”

As a kid, Hayden remembered many times when rain would dampen or ruin an outside activity for him. The worst had been hisjunior year of high school during football season. The team had lost one game all year and were vying for the state championship in their division. It had rained for three straight days, and no one had had the keen sense of mind to push the game off for a week. They’d been lucky all season with little to no foul weather, but when it mattered the most, Mother Nature unleashed on them. The “mud bowl” ended with a score of two to zero, in favor of the other team. Hayden was the one who’d been sacked in the end zone.

“Tryouts start in an hour,” he said to his mom. “And I promised the kids I’d take them to the field beforehand to toss the ball around.”

“They’re not made of sugar,” Darcy said. “They won’t melt.”

“I’m definitely made of sugar,” Hayden said with a smile. “According to the radar, this storm will be over in a minute.” Hayden picked his coffee up and took another sip.

“Is there an echo in here?” Darcy looked around the room as if she was looking for the echo to come out of hiding.

“Funny,” Hayden said. “I’m stressed. I can’t help it.”

“It’s baseball tryouts. They can happen later in the day.”

“Yeah, it’s not just the tryouts,” he said as he frowned at his phone.

“How was dinner last night?”

“Fine. Took the kids to the Pizza Palace. They had fun.”

“And you?”

“What about me?” He eyed his mother cautiously and saw the slight lift of her shoulder as she brought her coffee cup to her lips.

“Just, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.” Hayden knew that his mother and her friends were gossips. If you had or wanted news spread, you asked the Crafty Cathys, or the CC Club. The women of Oyster Bay took their blabbermouthing very seriously. The Crafty Cathys were also the first to come to someone’s aid when needed. They were the first to volunteer, be there with food when there was a crisis, and set up watch parties when a fishing boat hadn’t returned yet or organize a knitting party for babiesin need. The group had a purpose and had been around for eons. It was an honor to be part of the CC Club.

“Tabitha may have mentioned she saw you and another recently single resident chatting it up in the parking lot last week, and then again at dinner.”

Hayden rolled his eyes, hard. Tabitha was the worst of the worst when it came to the CC Club. She patrolled the streets in her hot-pink spandex pants and matching jogger jacket, and she often wore a headband to keep her unruly short, curly blond hair out of her eyes. She was the epitome of what people thought the eighties looked like, with all the neon colors. Hayden was curious, though, if Tabitha still wore the same Reeboks now that they were back in fashion and if she had upgraded her Walkman to an iPhone.

“I’m pretty sure I told you I ran into Devorah outside the school and gave her a ride because it was raining. She’s going through a lot of shit right now and doesn’t need any of you Crafty Cathys adding your two cents.”

Hayden excused himself and went out to stand on the porch. He glanced at the sky. The clouds were moving fast, and the blue sky showed a lot of promise. He sent a text to Devy:Please tell Maren I’m sorry but it doesn’t look like the rain is going to let up in time for us to get some practice in. Make sure she doubles up on her socks. The grass is going to be wet. I’ll be there shortly to pick you up.

He pocketed his phone and went back into the house, made eye contact with his mom, and shook his head. She meant well, but he truly wanted the locals to forget about what they’d seen and let Devy figure things out on her own. She didn’t need a constant reminder that her husband had had an affair with her best friend and had chosen the same best friend who’d humiliated her on the internet.

“Conor, you about ready?” Hayden yelled up the stairs.

“Yes, but it’s raining.”

“Tryouts are still on. Grab another sweatshirt and extra socks. You’ll be fine.”

Hayden went into the kitchen and prepared Conor’s water bottle. He added ice and then water and then grabbed a couple of bottles from the refrigerator for later. The temperature would rise to a lovely sixty-five, and he didn’t want Conor and Maren to be without some form of hydration. He knew they’d need it with all the running around they were about to do.

When he heard Conor thump onto the floor, Hayden yelled, “Stop jumping off the steps.”

“You used to do it all the time,” Darcy yelled back from the living room.

Hayden gripped the edge of the island and gritted his teeth. His parents babied Conor, which at times he appreciated. He was the parent, however, and there were things he and Sofia had tried to instill in their son. One of them was self-preservation. Jumping off steps was never a good idea.

Conor and his grandma came into the kitchen, both with shit-eating grins on their faces. Hayden shook his head and made a mental note to call the contractor, Link Blackburn, on Monday to see when they could break ground on his new home. Link was a local and had grown up with Hayden. They hadn’t been great friends in high school but were always cordial. Hayden was more than ready to have his own place, somewhere he could parent his son without his mom undermining him.

“Ready?” he asked Conor.

---