My ears perked up. Dad almost never talked about his childhood. A lot of it was bad, but I knew there had been some good things too. He was somber enough in that moment that this story could go either way.
“Joe, the dad, worked a lot,” Dad went on. “And he wasn’t up for much when he’d get home at night, but he liked baseball. His sons didn’t, but I didn’t know much about it. We watched games together, and one night he brought me home a glove.”
“The one you gave Selena?”
Dad nodded. “Joe was the first one to teach me how to catch a ball. Said I had a good arm and that if I practiced, I could have a great arm.” He smiled. “After that, the only time that glove ever left my hand was in the shower.”
He’d given it to Selena for her twelfth birthday. I remembered, because she’d told me later that she’d wanted a new one but refused to let me have it when I’d asked. I’d been able to tell it meant something to Dad when he gave it to her. He hadn’t told us how or when he’d gotten the glove, just that it used to be his and now it was hers.
“You never told us about him.”
“I was only there for about eight months.”
“What happened?”
“They got pregnant, needed the room I was using.”
“Oh.” That struck me as unbelievably sad, Dad being shuffled off to another family just as he was connecting. He’d been in a lot of foster homes. I think I remember him saying he lived with more than a dozen families before aging out of the system at eighteen.
“Did the next family have a dad who liked baseball?”
“No.” A simple one-word answer that spoke volumes. “But I kept playing when I could, high school, college. It was the only thing I was ever good at. And I wanted to have that great arm. I had good coaches, and they pushed me, but I always pushed harder, right up until I blew out my shoulder.”
After talking together the night before, I knew more about that time in his life than I ever wanted to. I nudged my fork at a pancake.
“I’ve always pushed you hard, both of you. Maybe too hard.”
Thinking about all the nights I’d gone to sleep half crying over burning shoulders or bruised shins, I couldn’t argue with that statement. Still, I said, “You wanted us to be good.”
“I did,” Dad said. “But I wanted you towantto be good. It wasn’t enough to play well—I wanted you to need it. But you don’t, either of you—not the way I did.”
I frowned, looking up at him. “I don’t understand.”
“What you tried to do for me, find me family? Dana, it wouldn’t have mattered. I don’t need people now. I needed them then. If I’d stayed with the Scudders or stayed anywhere, maybe it would have been different.” He drew himself up. “But I didn’t. The nicest man I ever lived with happened to like baseball and played catch with me a few times. If he’d liked golf, I’d have a house full of clubs right now instead of bats. I doubt he remembers my name, whereas I’ve spent every game I’ve ever played looking for his face in the stands.”
“Dad.” His eyes grew shiny, which made my chin quiver.
“I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, and I’ve passed them on to you. You don’t have to kill yourself in the backyard at night running drills. You don’t have to be the greatest softball player or win a state championship. You don’t have to compete with Selena or anyone else. And I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you so much. I’m sorry that I ever made you think you had to compete with anything or anyone for what you’ll always have from me. I see you without any of that. I love you, kid.”
The rest of my expression crumbled, and Dad caught me in a hug that didn’t erase the hurt from past months and years but came close.
CHAPTER 48
Iknew exactly where to park, having done it a dozen times or more the previous week. I wasn’t going for stealth anymore, though. I needed Chase to see me, and I prayed he’d be willing to hear me out before shutting me down again.
I drove over the morning after Dad and I had breakfast together, before anyone else was awake. Hopefully, I’d be back before they even knew I’d left. Chase usually opened Jungle Juice during the week, so I knew roughly when he’d need to leave his house, and I made sure to be out front when he did.
It was still dim outside. Day was just beginning to press back the night, a soft hazy purple against the blue-black sky. Mornings were already warm by the end of May, even before the sun fully rose. As I waited, night weakened further. The sky was glowing pale pink and orange when Chase opened his door and stepped outside. He took a few steps before he saw me. As before, he didn’t scowl, but even from across the street I could see the slight shake of his head before he crossed to me.
“This isn’t cool, okay?”
“I know. And I’m sorry.”
He squinted at the ground before slowly angling his head up at me. “What are you doing here, Dana?”
I couldn’t help it. Standing that close to him, I remembered the feel of his lips on mine and the warmth of his hands. I remembered being held in his arms, his breath ghosting against my ear. It physically hurt to think I’d never feel any of that again. He was standing there, not walking away or berating me, but he was as gone for me as if he were. And after what I’d done to him and his family, I couldn’t begin to give him a reason to come back.
“I’m not here because of us. I wish I were. I wish that there was something I could say to you to make up for my actions, but I know there isn’t. And I get it. If the situation were reversed, I wouldn’t want to be within a hundred feet of you. So, I promise this is it. I won’t show up at your house or anywhere else again.”
