The Practice Proposal (14 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Cole’s A-game had returned, and he knew it was because of Liza. The Nats’ pitching
had been lights-out tonight, and they’d beaten the Mets in record time. One more regular-season
game, then on to the playoffs. The Nats had played tough all year; now they’d be vying
for a spot in the World Series. Cole had dreamed all his life about playing on a World
Series team. Maybe his dream would come true.

As soon as he got the news about the Orioles clinching their division title, he tweeted
Liza, wishing he could be there to party with her. He thought about calling, but knew
from experience that it was pure bedlam in Baltimore right now.

Cole Collins
@Cole Collins

Congrats to @LizaSutherland, her folks, and the Os. Well played.

Within moments, Liza responded.

Liza Sutherland
@LizaSutherland

Missing you. We’ll save some pie and champagne! Go Os! #worldseriesbound

She’d attached a picture of her and Paige, wearing Orioles caps and raising flutes
of champagne. Liza proudly held an Orioles pie, her chin tipped up, a satisfied grin
on her face. Light from the camera shone in her green eyes, and she looked…happy.

Cole’s heart flipped. This was the first time she’d ever tweeted him. She’d put it
out in public that she missed him. That’s all it took for him to decide to head to
Baltimore.

Showered but not shaven, he left the clubhouse, hoping to get to Liza before too late.

“Heck of a game.”

Crap.
Cole recognized Frank’s voice behind him, and turned to see him leaning against the
wall.

“Got a minute?” Frank asked.

Cole wasn’t in the mood for Frank tonight. His threat to drop Cole as a client still
stung. “I was headed up to Baltimore to celebrate with Liza.” He figured Frank would
already know why.

Frank put a beefy hand on Cole’s shoulder, his brow furrowed. “I think that’s gonna
have to wait. There’s something important we need to talk about tonight.”

Cole sighed, but his annoyance quickly turned to fear. Was Frank quitting on him?
“What?”

“How about we head over to your place?” Normal people could just go to a bar for a
drink or pick a local restaurant. But he and Frank would get no privacy in public
around here.

They made it to Cole’s apartment pretty quickly, considering the huge after-game crowd—another
change since the Nats had started winning. Cole remembered wondering if they’d ever
fill their amazing stadium, and now they did it regularly.

“Want a drink?” Cole asked, thinking he needed one himself, but deciding against it.
He’d had Frank over several times before, and he always kept a bottle of scotch handy
for him.

Frank nodded.

Cole poured him a drink and they sat in the living area of Cole’s apartment—basic
leather couch, a recliner, a coffee table. A giant flat-screen TV on the wall. The
place was more like a modified Residence Inn than a home, but it was convenient during
the season.

Frank was as big as the recliner. Except for the thick middle, Cole guessed he looked
about the same sitting in it. “Cole, son,” Frank said then lowered his eyebrows. “I’m
the guy who donated the money to send you to John’s baseball camps. I’m the guy who
put you two together, then watched from a ways away while y’all got close, like family.”
He took a gulp of scotch. “I was younger then. Made a lot of mistakes. The worst one
was envy. So when I took you on as a client back in the day, and John came to me with
his plans to bring you on with the Orioles…”

Cole remembered the first time he’d met Frank, after one of his home games at UNC.
At the time, he hadn’t been fazed by the big-shot agent’s offer to represent him.
Things had been going his way, and the future had looked so bright. What a mistake
it had been to think his track to the big leagues would be smooth and fast.

“I offered John a deal with another player.” Frank blinked several times quickly and
took a deep breath that lifted his broad chest. “And I told him and Sylvia to get
out of your life.”

Cole’s heart hammered. He shook his head and narrowed his eyes at Frank.

“Believe me, they fought me like heavyweights—”

“Why would you do that?” Cole had never heard the tone in his voice—there were so
many emotions fighting in it.

“Because I’m your father,” Frank said, “and I resented them acting like you were their
boy.”

Frank might as well have hit him in the head with a baseball bat.

He was too stunned to speak as he raced to put all the pieces into place.
All this time—all my life—I figured I didn’t have a father who gave a damn. And Frank
was right there?
Cole closed his eyes and put his head in his hands, letting the news sink in. No wonder
Frank sometimes knew more about what was going on with him than he knew himself.
But why hasn’t Frank told me he’s my father?
He hadn’t been willing to step up to the plate, so he should’ve left John and Sylvia
alone. Then Cole would’ve at least had some kind of family.

His thoughts flashed back to seeing John and Sylvia for the first time in years at
Sweet Bee’s.

We’ve missed you.
Sylvia’s sincere-sounding words had stayed with him. And so had John’s.
Good to see you, Cole
.
Heck of a season you’ve got going.
Pressure built in Cole’s throat, and he swallowed against it.

Frank bent forward, set his drink on the coffee table, and propped his elbows on his
knees. He stared at Cole straight-on. “I got selfish about everything, thinking I
wanted you to myself to make up for all that lost time. You see, I didn’t even know
about you for years. I’d met your mom in a bar at a casino in Atlantic City, and I
bought her a drink. Lookin’ lovely and lonely, she told me her boyfriend had dumped
her and left her there with no way home.” He furrowed his brow. “She said the guy
hit her from time to time, so it was no big loss.”

Cole’s chest tightened and heat rose in his face. He hated to hear that kind of thing
about his mom—he was embarrassed enough about his dysfunctional background, and he
had a feeling that was about to get worse.

Frank sat up, fussed with one of his fingernails, then rested his hands in his lap.
“Turned out we were from the same area—give or take a few hours—so I offered to take
her home the next day. She had nowhere to spend the night, so I invited her to stay
with me.”

Cole knew where this was going. He was living proof.

“It wasn’t like you’re probably thinkin’,” Frank said. “My room had two beds. She
slept in one, I slept in the other—as much as I could, considering I kept thinkin’
I’d rather be over there with her.”

Cole nodded numbly. Men were all the same.

“And man it was a long drive home—New Jersey to North Carolina and runnin’ low on
sleep.” Frank rocked steadily in the recliner. “Plenty of time for her to tell me
all about herself, about barely finishing high school and workin’ at Piggly Wiggly.
I wasn’t too long out of college myself, then, working for the Carolina League.”

Cole had a hard time imagining Frank as a twenty-something kid who wasn’t running
his own show. Ever since Cole had known him, he’d been a well-established, well-respected,
independent agent.

“When we got near Mebane, I figured she was giving me directions to her house, but
we ended up on an abandoned farm. She asked me to park the car in the rickety barn
so we wouldn’t get caught where we didn’t belong.” Frank looked away from Cole. “Then
she showed me how much she appreciated the ride.”

Cole had been relieved he hadn’t been conceived in a casino hotel room, only to find
out it happened in a car in a rickety abandoned barn. “What kind of car was it?” he
asked.

Frank smiled a little. “A red eight-banger Ford Mustang.”

At least there was that.

“She was a sweet girl, your mom.” Frank looked wistful. “I called her not too long
after that and asked her out. But back then, long distance was farther than it seems
today. She said she was back with the boyfriend, and he was finally treatin’ her nice.”
He stopped rocking. “I never even knew she got pregnant till your grandma tracked
me down after your mom died. I was so sorry to hear about the accident, but then to
learn I had a son? Sure, I was skeptical, but the blood types added up. Your mom claimed
you were mine, and all I had to do was look at a picture of you to see you were the
spittin’ image of my dad when he was a boy.”

Cole’s mind reeled. Frank hadn’t known about him until after his mom had died? Cole
took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to stay calm despite his building tension.
“What do you mean, my mom claimed I was yours?”

“After your mom died, your grandma found a diary where she’d written about me givin’
her that ride from Atlantic City. She said no guy had ever done something so nice
for her and not expected anything in return.” Frank shook his head. “Guess that’s
why we ended up in the barn.”

Cole felt a pang of sympathy for his mom, and regretted yet again the life she’d chosen.
But this was about his father. “What kept you away once you found out about me?”

“I was married by then, and my wife was havin’ nothing to do with another woman’s
teenage kid—especially since she couldn’t have kids of her own.”

Cole thought about that for a moment. He could have gone from being the drunk lady’s
son to being another woman’s teenage kid. No wonder he was so messed up. “So you became
the invisible dad. The anonymous donor who sent me to baseball camp.”

Frank clenched his jaw. “I’m not proud of it, that’s for sure, and I wish I’d done
things differently. But I tried to help out your grandma and you as best I could.”

Cole remembered how things had gotten a little better for them financially after his
mom had died. No big change, just an extra pair of jeans for back-to-school and snacks
in the pantry that they couldn’t normally afford—that kind of thing.

“When you were finishin’ up at UNC, your grandma died. I sure hated to see her go,
for her sake and yours. The wife was the ex by then, so I figured it was my time to
step up.” Frank was quiet for a long while, rocking.

Cole took a deep breath and waited.

“That’s when I blew it,” Frank said finally. He grimaced. “My big fat ego saw John
and Sylvia actin’ like family to you, and instead of being glad you had them, I was
jealous.” He gripped the arms of the recliner. “So I called them off. Poor Sylvia
was beside herself, and John made a hell of a fuss, but I stood my ground and told
them
I
was your father, and I could handle you and your baseball business.” He pressed his
lips together tightly. “I had a good deal worked out for you with the Nationals…”

Cole’s gut clenched.

“They were building their roster,” Frank said. “And you were just the type of kid
they were looking for to hit the big leagues quick.”

“But that didn’t happen.” Cole said angrily. “Because I lost it.” He rubbed his hand
roughly over his scruffy cheek and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to control
his temper. “I lost my confidence because I thought John decided he didn’t want me
to play for the Orioles. Grandma was gone, and Mom had always been gone—even before
she died. Then John and Sylvia bailed on me. All I had was baseball, and I couldn’t
even make that work.”

Frank nodded slowly. “I’m sorry.” He bowed his head for a moment, then set his blue-eyed
gaze on Cole.

Blue like mine…

“I promised John and Sylvia I’d tell you that you were my boy.” Frank picked up his
drink and took a slug.

“But that never happened,” Cole said sharply.

“I chickened out,” Frank said meekly. “There’s no excuse except I was afraid.”

Cole had never seen this side of Frank, and it confused him even more.

“I figured you’d hate me if I told you that you were my boy after all this time. You
might not understand why I wasn’t around when you were a kid.” Frank shrugged weakly.
“I never meant for things to work out this way. You make bad choices in life and you
pay. In the beginning, I kept angling for the right time to tell you, and I just never
found it.” He shrugged as if his shoulders were way too heavy. “I guess I never really
found the courage.”

He took the last swallow of his scotch. “Poor John and Sylvia had no idea I hadn’t
kept my word until I saw them at the pie war. There they were, still torn up about
what happened after all these years, and hoping to mend things.”

Cole took a deep breath and blew it out loudly. He’d never seen this side of Frank,
and it confused him even more. “So what made you tell me now?”

“John called me tonight, breathin’ fire. Evidently Liza was askin’ about what happened
between you and her folks. He said either I tell you, or he was going to, and you’d
probably take it a lot better comin’ from me.”

Cole frantically tried to make sense of everything. The idea of John looking out
for him went counter to everything he’d believed for years…just like the idea of Frank
being his father. Questions occurred to him faster than he could possibly ask them.
“What about Mack?”
My uncle…

“Mack’s a heck of a brother—a good man,” Frank said sincerely. “Better man than I’ll
ever be. He’s hated that all these years have gone by without me tellin’ you. It’s
come between us, really. But he’s just gone about his business with you and kinda
given up on me. Not that I blame him. I mean, we’re still cordial, but there’s been
a rift. Maybe we can work on that now.”

Cole cocked his head. “And Liza? When you arranged for me to get involved her, you
had to know this would probably come out.”

Frank nodded. “Maybe it was my way of lettin’ fate handle my problems for me. I risked
losin’ you, but I figured that gal could make you happy, and you’d get John and Sylvia
back.”