Page 16 of The Run Home
He was annoying.
Definitely hot.
Still a jerk.
Not even his act today could convince me otherwise. Once an a-hole, always an a-hole.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Boon
Daytwo of being a high school teacher and baseball coach instead of a professional athlete was over. I thought I’d miss the head nods of respect at every hotel our team walked into, the women clustered at the bar at each restaurant, vying for our attention. I thought I’d miss the reporters shoving microphones in my face for a soundbite they could use. Thought I’d miss the fancy condo in Dallas or the parties I frequently hosted there. I thought I’d miss everything about being an athlete.
Surprisingly, I didn’t miss a damn thing.
“And then she was like, I’ll get on the box and hit the balls. You guys are the ones who need practice blocking.” Kinsley shoveled another forkful of chicken and rice in her mouth.
Mom gasped, her fork clattering to her plate. “I hope you told that little cuntychops to shove it where the sun don’t shine.”
“Mom,” I groaned. Kinsley snorted out a laugh, covering her mouth so she wouldn’t spew her dinner on the table. I knew verylittle about parenting, but even I knew using that word around a teen wasn’t acceptable.
Mom just shot me a round-eyed innocent look. “What? She deserves it!”
Kinsley reached over and grabbed Mom’s hand to give it a squeeze. I noticed she didn’t touch me like that. In fact, she purposely gave me a wide berth anytime we were in the same room together. That realization made my chest ache, but the smile on my daughter’s face lifted the dark mood a bit. It was good to see her smiling, even if it was just because her grandmother swore.
“It’s okay, Gigi. Coach Shae overheard, took the ball from her, and told Jazzy to get in line.”
I took another bite of the dinner Mom made us, relieved Shae had things under control. I knew all about the dynamic of teams. There was always at least one hothead who thought their shit don’t stank. A few quiet geniuses, a ton of goofballs that made the hard work seem like fun, and a coach who had to wrangle them all into a cohesive unit.
“Well, I’m glad you’re having fun on the team. Think you’ll get to start at the game Thursday?” It was my first question of the night. I tended to keep quiet and let Mom and Kinsley keep up the conversation at the dinner table. There were far fewer eye rolls that way.
“I don’t know,Dad. I’m the new girl. I’m sure I have to pay my dues for a bit.”
Why did she always put that sarcastic emphasis on the word dad? She hadn’t done that as a little girl. It always made me feel like she was calling me Dad out of respect, but inside she was not-so-secretly laughing at me.
I ignored the dig. “I don’t know, Kinsley. Coaches want to win, and you’re damn good.” I shrugged my shoulders, but couldn’t help the smug smile that crept over my face. “I mean,you have good genes. Not everyone has a professional athlete for a dad.”
Ope. There it was. My first eye roll of the night. Kinsley turned to Mom, purposely blocking me out of the conversation. “Anyway, later on in the scrimmage I blocked the crap out of Jazzy’s hit. Everyone freaked out and hugged me. Jazzy didn’t look too happy with me, but that’s what she gets for mouthing off, you know?”
She and Mom chuckled. I sat back and enjoyed the bubbly sound of my daughter’s laugh. I hadn’t heard it since last year. She’d been with me for almost two weeks now and hadn’t laughed. Damn. I knew she wasn’t happy being here with me, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. Instead of drinking out of a World’s Best Dad mug every morning, I deserved a trophy for World’s Most Absent Dad. Back when I was playing ball, something always kept me busy and not focused on my daughter. Only now that I was home did I start to truly understand what a shitty father I’d been.
At least Mom knew how to handle Kinsley. I’d stay in the background every night if Mom could get Kinsley smiling and laughing. Maybe it was too late for me to make amends for being largely absent for seventeen years. Maybe now the best gift I could give my daughter was to remain on the fringes of her life.
“Well, whether you play or not, we’re excited to go to your game Thursday,” Mom was saying to Kinsley. She looked up at me. “Isn’t that right, Boon?”
I dipped my head in agreement, even though it was humiliating that my mother had to try to draw me into a conversation with my own daughter. Mom had been harassing me daily to find ways to connect with Kinsley, and I was trying, I really was. I just sucked at it, and let’s be honest, I didn’t suck at much. This was new territory for me.
“Hell yes. I can’t wait to see the Wolfe genes in action again.” I snapped my fingers, brilliant idea occurring to me. “In fact, any chance you want to go to the batting cages with me this weekend? I heard Blueball has a new facility.”
Kinsley scoffed, followed quickly by an eye roll, and the cherry on top of this teenage angst sundae, a push away from the table. “No, thanks.” And then she was gone, flouncing off to her room, evidenced by the slamming door from upstairs.
Mom was already glaring at me.
“What did I do?” Honestly, women confused the hell out of me.
Mom just shook her head, lips pressed together into a tight line of disappointment. “Sometimes I wonder how I could have failed you this badly.”
My hand went to my chest. I’d done what she’d been harping on me to do. I tried to connect with Kinsley and got the cold shoulder. “Ouch, Mom.”
