Trent (Season Two: The Ninth Inning #4) (10 page)

“Hey,” I say, our eyes
meeting in the mirror as I start the machine.

“Hey,” she breathes with a
smile.

“Working hard today, aren’t
you?” I ask. She’s running pretty fast. I start at a decent pace
for now. She nods. “You know, if you can’t run and carry on a
conversation, supposedly, you’re running too fast.”

She presses the button to
slow her down. “Is that your way of saying you want to talk to
me?”

Her chest is heaving with her
labored breathing and I feel bad for even noticing. She raises an
eyebrow at me over questioning green eyes and I reach over and bump
her pace back up.

“Not yet.” I increase my own
speed until it’s at my usual high, which happens to be higher than
Scarlett’s.

I hear her laugh and mutter
about me being a show-off. Shaking my head, I try not to smile.
That wasn’t my intention, but it’s not a bad coincidence. We run
for a bit, our steps in sync with one another, until Scarlett
copies me by reaching over to slow me down and then doing the same
to her own machine.

“That’s it. I’m done,” she
explains. Her hands rest on her hips while we cool down.

“My grandmother kind of
grilled me when I came home late the other day,” I blurt out. I
still can’t get those stupid thoughts out of my head. If I can’t
talk to Granny, then Scarlett isn’t a bad second choice.

“Are you grounded?”

I laugh. “No, I’m not. She
seems to think I should get out more, ‘mingle’, that kind of
thing.”

“She’s probably right. If you
feel it’s time to head out and
mingle
, then you should. Go
at your own pace.”

“If I feel like it’s time?” I
frown. “Isn’t a whole bunch of time supposed to pass before I
should even wonder about it? Too soon would be disrespectful,
wouldn’t it?”

“Trent,” she reaches over and
rests a hand on my forearm, “grief and mourning periods vary from
person to person. No person is going to say after six months you’re
cured
. The pain and loss of your wife is always going to be
there. Even if in a year you find someone else, your wife is always
around. Think of it this way. In twenty years when Kaelyn is
getting ready to have you escort her down the aisle, I’ll bet my
paycheck you’ll think of Deborah, and you’ll feel that familiar tug
of loss and pain again. It won’t be because you don’t love the
person you’re with at that time any less, because Deborah will
always be part of you. No time will change it.” She drops her
hand.

“I wish Granny had of told me
that instead of telling me I needed fresh air,” I chuckle. “I guess
you’re right though. I think the what if’s are bugging me more than
anything. Like I’m worrying about everything before I have to, or
things I might not even have to worry about.”

“This sounds silly, but take
it one day at a time. Don’t go onto some online dating site and
message every girl until you find someone you like. Be you and
relax. Everything will happen at the right time. You just have to
be patient and take it a day at a time.”

“Whenever I need a pep talk,
I’m going to call you, okay?” I smile.

“Trent, you can call on me
anytime. I’ll always help a friend.”

“Thanks, Scarlett.” I glance
at the clock on the wall. “I should get ready to leave. I promised
Kaelyn I’d fix bacon cheeseburgers with homemade French fries for
dinner.”

“Sound yummy. Go and enjoy
your family, Trent. I’ll see you around.”

Before I leave, we exchange
numbers.

***

I HOLD MY arms out and
the security guard sweeps up and down my sides and back. When
nothing alarms him, he motions me to walk forward. I turn in my
purse, keys, and any other valuables to the woman behind the glass.
She hands me a ticket and points over her shoulder. I turn and
follow another security guard through the large cages and a long
hallway.

He escorts me into a small
room, and I sit in one of the metal chairs. I look around the dim
gray colored walls and notice the table is bolted to the floor. The
camera in the corner has a red light that blinks and I’m suddenly
nervous. The loud turn of the lock startles me and the squeaking is
the announcement that Dominic is walking into the room.

He’s in a bright orange
jumpsuit, handcuffed and chained at his ankles. His sandy blond
hair is cut shorter than the last time I saw him. His green eyes
are dark and scary. The guard locks Dominic into place on the large
steel ring on the table. When he walks out, we stare at each other,
saying nothing.

Looks like I’ll have to be
the first to speak. “How are you?”

“I’m in jail. How do you
think I am?” he sneers.

“Dom, stop. I’m trying to be
here for you.”

“I don’t need you. My fate is
already laid out for me. You can leave.”

I sigh and look at the man,
but see the boy who hid my only Barbie doll. “Your attorney asked
me to speak at the sentencing.”

“Great.” He rolls his eyes.
“Are you planning on telling them what an upstanding citizen I am?
Maybe you should tell them I was a boy scout.”

“Enough, Dom. I get it;
you’re bitter, but you put yourself in here. No one else but you.”
I grit my teeth at him.

He moves his hands, and the
handcuff chains clank and rattle. “I know.” His tone quickly
changes. “I know why I’m here.”

The tug at my heart as my
brother sits across from me in his jailhouse uniform and chains. “I
don’t think I’ll do it.”

Dominic looks up at me. “You
don’t have to. It would just hurt you more and I...I don’t want
that for you,” he stammers on his words.

A million questions run
through my head. I want to know all the answers, but I’m sure he
won’t tell me the truth.

“Dom, why did you do it? Why
didn’t you come to me if it was about the money? I’ve always given
you money.” The tears and emotions burn through my body, and I
think of Deborah, Trent, and Kaelyn. I remember seeing the tape of
the shooting and I let the tears fall. “I could have helped
you.”

Dominic turns his head away
from me. “I know.”

“Then why? She was a mother—
a
good
mother to a little girl. She was married to a
wonderful husband. She gave you the money. You didn’t have to shoot
her!” I scold him fiercely.

“You want to do me a favor?
You want to be the world’s best sister?” His eyes are hard as they
stare back at me. “Go away and never come back. Guard!”

I jump at his cold yell for
security to come back in. Without another word, or so much as a
glance, I watch the guard take my brother away from me for the last
time.

Through my years of therapy,
I learned something important: you can’t help people if they don’t
want it. And Dominic doesn’t want my help.

I sit with a bottle of wine
as sad music plays. There are a lot of tissues on hand to wipe my
tears as the conversation with Dominic replays repeatedly in my
head. I want to stay curled up on this couch for the rest of my
life, but I can’t do it. If he wants to shut me out of his life,
then so be it. Tomorrow is a new day and I have to be a role model
for my kids.

I don’t own a Memphis Angels
baseball shirt, so after work on Friday, I run to get one from the
nearest store. The red and blue colors are bright and I’m tempted
to grab one with Trent’s number, but I stop myself.

Hello, stalker
.

I quickly head home, shower,
and change before going over to the foster home and picking up my
two boys. Sure, they’re not
technically
mine, but I feel as
if they are. David and Joey, decked out their own baseball jerseys,
race out to my car.

“Miss Knowles, are you as
excited as us?” David jumps up and down.

I take a deep breath. Two
nine-year-olds have a lot of energy, and I need to keep up with
them all evening. “Yes. I barely slept last night thinking about
this game.”

“Me too.” Joey beams as he
buckles his seatbelt.

After I make sure they are
both strapped in, I head to the stadium. Of course, Trent is going
to be there, but this is for the kids. Since it’s kids night, the
team is going to be signing for the kids and I know the boys want
some autographs. I think it’s nice how the Angels are giving back
to Memphis.

The boys are bubbling over
with excitement and they talk the entire drive. It takes me forever
to find a place to park, and the crowd is worse than I imagined.
Thanks to Macy, I was able to get some good seats behind the
dugout. I haven’t told the boys yet though. I want them to be
surprised.

David and Joey ask for
everything under the sun when we walk in, but I’m able to convince
them to wait a little bit before we grab something. I take them
both by the hand and lead them down to the railings. I hand them
the posters they were given out at the gate and two Sharpie
markers.

“Now, don’t fall over.” It’s
not a long fall, but I can’t let them get hurt on my watch.

They’re bouncing on their
toes as the team begins to come out. The crowd cheers as they make
their way to the long line of waiting kids. I try my best not to
stare at Trent, but I can’t help it. I watch him when he climbs the
stairs of the dugout and begins to make his way down the line. He
smiles at all of the children and even poses for a few selfies.
Then, he finally reaches us.

“Scarlett.” He smiles at me.
“Decide to take in a game?”

“I brought along some fans.”
I point to David and Joey in front of me.

“You know Miss Knowles?” Joey
looks between us.

“She’s my friend,” Trent
tells him. “And who are you guys?”

“I’m David, and this is my
best friend. Miss Knowles is our social worker.”

“I’m Joey. Is Colby Wilson
coming out soon?”

I push on Joey’s shoulder to
silently tell him it’s rude, but he looks confused.

Trent laughs. “He’ll be out
in a moment.” Trent takes their markers and signs the poster. Then
he opens his glove and signs the baseball he had tucked inside.
“Here, Scarlett.” He reaches over and hands it to me. “Your first
souvenir.”

“Thank you.” I take it from
him and smile.

“Enjoy the game, guys, and
make sure Miss Knowles has fun, too,” he tells them.

The boys wave to Trent and he
makes his way down the rest of the line as I continue to stand with
the boys as the rest of the team to come through. I grip the ball
tightly in my hand and see Trent’s name scribbled in black. My
heart beats faster thinking of my first baseball memorabilia.

When the team heads back to
the dugout, I get the boys to their seats. We can see the entire
field from our location. The bright green lush grass is highlighted
as the sun begins to descend in front of us. I’m able to wave down
a food server and get each of them a hotdog and drink. I don’t get
anything for myself because I want to make sure I have enough money
to get them something sweet at the end of the game.

The game begins and the boys
are intently watching every movement. I giggle as they lean in
every time it's a full count pitch. My eyes keep wandering to Trent
as he stands by second base. His dark glasses cover his brown eyes,
but he is watching every move in front of him.

During the sixth inning,
Trent comes up to the plate to bat again. The Angels are down by
three. Even though David and Joey think they can come back, I’m not
so sure. I glance at Colby on third, and Roman on second. Trent
swings twice and misses each time. The next pitch is a ball, but
it’s the next swing that counts the most.

As the pitcher rears back to
throw the ball, I hold my breath and watch Trent take his stance,
digging his feet deeper into the dirt. At the release, the white
ball come toward Trent, I exhale, and he swings, causing a loud
crack of the bat. The entire stadium stands as we all watch the
ball sail high over the left field wall for a home run. The crowd
erupts with me as Trent jogs around the base to his awaiting team
by home plate.