The Wild Card, page 32
“Better.” She literally presses her fingers into my cheeks to push my smile higher.
I groan.
She laughs. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” I stand alone on the sidewalk while traffic hums by and my brain does what it does best.
Spiral.
Because it’s impossible not to think about Foster.
I hate myself for missing him.
He’s acting as if he doesn’t give a shit about me, so why should I care?
Why did I even text him about the appointment?
Because I want him at the scan. Because I want him there when they say boy or girl and my whole life shifts again. Because I’m mad and I still want him anyway, which is the most humiliating part of it all.
“All right,” Lex says, popping back into view as though she’s on a game show. “Here we go. Your fifth guest…”
I turn around.
And my entire body goes cold.
“What is this?” I whisper, because my throat is suddenly too tight to breathe.
Foster stands there. Hands in his pockets. Eyes on me. Looking contrite and hopeful.
My chest hurts instantly. Anger, relief, desire, fear. All the emotions drown me, overwhelm me.
“Lex,” I say, voice sharp. “Nice joke.”
Lex lifts the phone she’s recording with and points at our mics as though she’s proud of herself. “This is why I mic’d you.”
I take one step backward. Then another. Before turning and walking away.
Foster moves fast, catching up to me, his hand lightly cupping my elbow. “Callie.” His voice is soft, maybe softer than I’ve ever heard it. “Will you just walk with me?”
Tears come quick and hot, which pisses me off. I swipe at my face as if I can erase their existence. “I’m not doing this. I have an appointment.”
“I know.” He nods. “That’s why we’re walking to it.”
I can only stare at him. I’ve been starving to set my eyes on him all week, but now that he’s in front of me, it feels too overwhelming and painful.
“I’m not asking for forgiveness.” His voice goes rough. “I’m asking for you to listen. That’s it. You deserve to know everything. Then you can do whatever you want with it.”
The way he says deserve hits me in the soft spot I’ve been loathing lately.
I look at Lex. She’s watching us as though she’s holding her breath.
Traitor.
I look back at Foster and nod once. “To the doctor’s office.”
He nods too and exhales a long, deep breath. “Yeah. That’s what we planned.”
I shoot Lex a look that promises revenge. She just smiles as though I’m going to thank her later.
We start walking. I’m stiff at first, the ground feeling unsteady under my feet.
Foster doesn’t touch me again. He just matches my pace.
“When I was eleven, my parents decided to split Decker and me up,” he begins, and he tells the story he already told me, but it’s more for the listeners than me.
“After we moved, things intensified. My dad was always hard on me, but now that it was just the two of us, he was even more brutal. Baseball above all else. If I had a bad game, I’d hear about it for days. I was punished with lectures and cold shoulders, forced to practice until I’d corrected whatever he thought the problem was. If I had a great outing, he was all smiles. Would brag about my performance to anyone who would listen. About how his son was going to be a superstar someday. How he always knew I had it in me.”
We stop at a corner and wait for the light.
“It taught me that love was conditional. And when my mother abandoned me and left me with my dad, I knew I hadn’t met all the conditions.”
I glance at him. Foster’s jaw is tight, and he’s looking forward.
“As I grew up, the competition got better, got stronger, and I got good at being the version of myself people could handle. The version that didn’t need anything. The version that could take a hit and act like it didn’t hurt.”
His eyes flick to mine for half a second.
“But you changed that.” He’s so quiet that it feels as if I’m betraying him by recording this. “What I felt with you… Callie… it’s not something I know how to explain.”
My throat tightens again. I want to fold into him, but my brain revolts, reminding me of the pain he caused.
“And what I did…” He clears his throat. “Taking what you said to me… and then turning it around and making you feel like you imagined it all, like it didn’t mean anything… that was cruel.” He swallows.
“I’m sorry,” he says, eyes glossy with unshed tears. “I’m trying to do better. Not just because of the baby. But because I’d kick someone’s ass if they made you feel that way. And the fact that it was me who inflicted that pain on you makes me physically sick. I don’t want our child to ever think my love is conditional. And I don’t want you thinking you’re only worth what you can give.”
The light changes, and we cross.
“I’m tired of being this angry version of myself filled with repressed pain. It’s time for me to tackle the monkey on my back. Starve it out rather than keep feeding it my pain and resentment. I don’t want to be that person anymore.”
He talks more about his childhood and some of the things that went down, the mic catching everything. As he speaks, I can hear the listeners in my head already. People taking sides. People judging. People turning our real life into content.
It’s not something either of us needs.
We get another red light and have to wait to cross. Foster turns toward me this time, and something about the look in his eyes steals my breath. The sounds of the city fade away. I find myself scared of what he’s going to tell me.
“I love you.” His voice is filled with strength and certainty. “So much. And I took that love and I threw it away like it didn’t matter. If you give me another chance, I’ll never do that again. You have my word. You don’t have to decide right now, you don’t have to—”
I should make him sit in it.
I should make him say it again.
I should make him prove he won’t take it back the second he gets scared.
But my heart has my body moving before my mind can catch up.
I throw my arms around his neck. “I love you. I love you too.”
His arms go around me tightly, as if he’s worried I might change my mind.
“You’re making this too easy,” he murmurs into my hair.
“No.” I pull back enough to look at him. “I’m making it about us. I needed you to stop fighting what you feel. To stop being scared of it.”
He stares down at me and cups my face.
Then I remember the mic.
I glance over my shoulder.
Lex is standing on the sidewalk wide-eyed, holding her phone as though she just captured podcast gold.
Then he says, “There’s more.”
My stomach tightens.
I pull out of Foster’s hold and take off my mic, then his. I hand them back to Lex. “Thank you. It means a lot that you did this for me. Now please… go away.”
Lex looks between us. “Well… you’re welcome,” she whispers without her usual snarkiness. Then she walks down the sidewalk, leaving us alone.
“You have to know it all before you accept me back in your life,” he says.
A cold shiver shoots up my spine.
We pass the doctor’s building and keep going, cutting into a small park with benches and a fountain. He leads me toward a bench tucked away from the sidewalk.
When we sit, he keeps my hand in his. “I had to leave Seattle last year.”
I stare at him. He’s made it clear he wanted out of Seattle without really explaining why, but saying he had to leave feels different. “Why?”
He looks at our joined hands. “Because my dad was betting on my games.”
I go still. My skin goes cold. How could a father put his son’s career in jeopardy like that?
“The bookies came to me with a bill.” He looks around for anyone eavesdropping. “It was big. They said they’d leak my name if I didn’t pay up. So I paid. And then I did everything I could to get traded and away from my father. Jagger put out the feelers, and Chicago wanted me, so I pushed for it.”
My heart is pounding hard and fast.
“But then my dad got himself in hot water again, and probably knowing they can’t get blood from a stone, they came straight to me to pay up. It wasn’t like last time. Not as much. I tried to ignore it, ignore them, but they kept resurfacing and threatened to make it look like I was betting on games if I didn’t settle my dad’s debt again.” His jaw clenches. “The security gate break-ins… I’m pretty sure that was them too. They left a note on the gate once. That’s why I went to the bank that day. To wire the money and make it go away.”
My breathing stutters.
“The only person who knows is Jagger. You should also know that I’ve been paying my dad too. Every month. Not because I want to. Because it keeps him away.”
He finally lifts his gaze to mine, and there’s a rawness there I’ve never seen before.
I feel sick at the thought of Foster paying the man who brought him so much pain. It must be like a constant reminder every month, a revisiting of all the trauma. No wonder he hasn’t been able to move forward.
“I told him the checks would stop if he ever tried to contact me again.” He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. “If this gets out, I’m ruined. And now you’re in my life, and there’s a baby… but I can’t… I can’t keep secrets from you anymore. I’m done with that.”
My throat tightens.
“It’s behind me,” he adds quickly. “It’s paid in full now. But I needed you to know. Because I don’t want there to be anything between us.”
I stare at him, my mind still trying to catch up to everything he said. All the heartbreak he’s endured.
Without thinking, I scoot closer on the bench and lean into him. His arm wraps around my shoulders, and he sighs as though he’s waited to have me next to him again.
I close my eyes. “Okay.” The one word isn’t good enough, but I’m not sure what more to say. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”
His hand gently tightens on my shoulder. “I’ll always be transparent with you, Callie. I don’t want anything to poison what we have.” He bends down and kisses me. “I love you.”
I smile up at him and lay my palm on his cheek. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing those words from you.”
“Good, because now that I’ve said them, I’m not sure I can stop.”
We laugh, and he kisses me again. We have so much to look forward to in our future.
CHAPTER
SIXTY-ONE
Foster
Having the weight off my shoulders now that Callie knows everything I’ve been trying to hide feels indescribable. I feel like a fucking idiot for avoiding this for so long.
Her hand is in mine as we walk into the doctor’s office. No more worrying about someone taking our picture. No more pretending we’re something we’re not. Although I’m still wrapping my head around the fact I fell in love with someone, and they love me back, even after unpacking all my trauma for her to lay eyes on.
Callie checks in with the receptionist, then we go sit down.
This time not behind the plant.
Not shoved in a corner.
I pick a spot right in the middle of the damn room.
Callie smirks at me as I wait for her to sit first because we’re on the same page.
“Want a magazine?” She picks one up off the table and holds it out to me.
“Yes, I do.” I accept it, but I’d really rather talk to her. “Look where my reading got us the first time.”
“I think it would’ve been inevitable even without the magazine article.” She knocks her shoulder into mine. “I was hanging on by a very, very frayed thread.”
“You?” I balk. “You were prancing around in those tiny pajama shorts and threadbare T-shirts.”
“You were shirtless the majority of the time. You purposely broke the rules.”
I shrug, and her eyes widen.
“You did it on purpose? Tried to get me to break the rule?”
I smile and wrap my arm around her, kissing her temple. “I just really wanted you.”
She lays her head on my chest. “Me too.”
“Callie,” the nurse calls.
As we head toward the door, I catch a woman smiling at us.
Yeah, we’re lucky as hell. If you want to report that to the internet, go ahead.
I hold Callie’s purse while she gets weighed, then she sits on the table.
“You know, it’s a little disappointing that the first time I’d be free to help you undress, you don’t have to put on one of those paper gowns.”
She shakes her head and lifts her shirt, palming her belly.
I stand and walk over, placing my hands over hers and kissing her stomach. Then I place a chaste kiss on her lips. “Do you think we should leave the sex of the baby a surprise?”
I’ve been going back and forth on whether we should find out or not.
“We could rock, paper, scissors for it?” A competitive gleam enters her big brown eyes.
“You do know the odds are in my favor to win eventually, right?” I take a seat.
She puts her fist in her palm. “Want to test your fate?”
“No. I want to know what we’re having. It was just a thought.” I shrug.
A knock lands on the door, and I stand when Dr. Amato comes in.
She stops and smiles. “You guys are my favorite couple. But don’t tell the others, okay?” She washes her hands.
I slide to the side of the table to hold Callie’s hand, and Callie looks up at me. “We’re our favorite too.”
Dr. Amato laughs and comes over with the stethoscope to listen to the baby. “It all sounds good.”
She moves the ultrasound machine over and squirts some gel on Callie’s stomach.
My heart races because this is such a pivotal moment for us. We finally figured our shit out. Well, I figured out my shit. Now we’re about to find out if we’ll be raising a girl or a boy.
The screen flicks on with an image that looks so different from the first time Dr. Amato did this.
I can actually see the shape of the baby. There’s a head, a body, and are those feet?
“Shit,” I murmur, emotions swelling in my chest.
Callie turns to me, squeezing my hand.
“There you are,” she says to the screen. I realize she’s probably been talking to the baby more than I have.
“It’s so real.”
Callie laughs. “That’s because you’re not lugging it around everywhere, but this does put a whole new perspective on it.”
Dr. Amato points out the feet and the hands. The baby moves, and I have to swallow past the lump in my throat.
“They’re being a little stubborn. Let me see if I can get a better view.” Dr. Amato shifts the probe a bit on Callie’s abdomen.
Callie and I share a knowing look. Our child was bound to be stubborn.
“There you are.” The doctor points at the screen, and I tilt my head to see what she does. “Nothing between those legs.”
“Nothing?” I panic, and Callie laughs.
“It’s a girl.” Callie turns to look up at me. “A baby girl.”
“Yep. And she’s very healthy, strong heartbeat, but there she goes moving around again. She’s very active.”
“Oh.” Callie stares down at her belly. “I felt that.” She smiles up at me. “It was like a little flutter.”
“That will happen more and more.” Dr. Amato pulls the wand back, cleaning it and Callie’s belly, then washes her hands again. “Everything looks great. Keep up everything you’ve been doing, and I’ll see you in a month.”
She leaves, and the nurse comes in and gives us pictures to take with us. I fold one up and slide it into my wallet.
Callie gets ready, but before we leave the room, I stop her.
“You’re happy?” I ask her.
“Of course. I didn’t care.”
“A girl.”
Callie tilts her head as though she can hear it in my voice. How a daughter scares me. What will I do with a girl?
She laughs and puts her hand on my cheek. “You’re going to be an amazing girl dad.” I blow out a breath, and she raises her other hand, cradling both my cheeks. “I know it’s scary, but we’re in this together.”
I nod. “I hope she has your fighting spirit. And I hope like hell she gets your ability to read a room, but most of all I hope she has your heart because it’s so pure, Callie.”
Tears glisten in her eyes.
“I hope the exact same. I hope she has her daddy’s heart.” She places her lips to mine.
“Let’s go home.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Sounds perfect.”
CHAPTER
SIXTY-TWO
Callie
A month has passed, and I never would’ve thought we’d be where we are. Things with Foster are exactly how I always dreamed they’d be. He even decided to go to therapy again. Apparently, he’d been before for a short amount of time, but as he says, it didn’t stick, so he’s looking for a new therapist in Chicago.
“Now who’s freaking out?” Leighton nudges me in the arm.
This has been a repeating pattern this year—Foster coming in with the bases loaded. We’re two outs from getting out of the inning. “Crazy Train” plays, and our little girl kicks me as if she knows it’s her daddy’s song. I cradle my stomach and stand, watching him walk to the mound. He stops at the edge, and Blue checks him over, but right before he joins Hayes and the other guys, Foster’s gaze lifts to meet mine.
The Jumbotron catches it. They’ve been doing that a lot lately. The camera seems to always land on me when he’s pitching.
He smiles and tilts his head at me. I don’t blow him a kiss, and he doesn’t do anything else because that’s not us.
Ripley hands him the ball, and I see Foster grip it in his palm.
