* * *
“Is Cole coming?” Jeff asked, working the stiffness out of his baseball mitt by slamming his fist into the middle of it several times.
“I don’t know,” Robin said, glancing at their neighbor’s house as they walked to the car. “I haven’t talked to him in the last few days.”
“You’re not mad at him, are you?”
“Of course not,” Robin said, sliding into the driver’s seat of her compact. “We’ve both been busy.”
Jeff fingered the bill of his baseball cap, then set the cap on his head. “I saw him yesterday and told him about the game, and he said he might come. I hope he does.”
Secretly Robin hoped Cole would be there, too. Over the past five days, she’d missed talking to him. She hadn’t come to any decision, but he hadn’t pressed her to make one, willing to offer her all the time she needed. Robin hadn’t realized how accustomed she’d grown to his presence. How much she needed to see him and talk to him. Exchange smiles and glances. Touch him...
When she was married to Lenny, they were two people very much in love, two people who’d linked their lives to form one whole. But Lenny had been taken from her, and for a long time afterward Robin had felt only half alive.
All week she’d swayed back and forth over Cole’s proposal, wondering if she should ignore her doubts. Wondering if she could ignore them. Sleepless nights hadn’t yielded the answer. Neither had long solitary walks in Balboa Park while Jeff practiced with his baseball team.
“Cole said—” Jeff started to say, then stopped abruptly as his hands flew to his head. A panicky look broke out on his face and he stared at Robin.
“What’s wrong? Did you forget something?”
“My lucky hat!” Jeff cried. “It’s on my dresser. We have to go back.”
“For a baseball cap?” Robin didn’t disguise how silly she considered that idea. “You’re wearing a baseball cap. What’s wrong with that one?”
“It won’t work. You have to understand, Mom, it’s my lucky hat. I’ve been wearing it ever since we played our first game. I had that very same hat on when I hit my first two home runs. I can’t play without it,” he explained frantically. “We have to go back. Hurry, or we’ll be late for the game. Turn here,” he insisted, pointing at the closest intersection.
“Jeff,” she said, trying to reason with her son. “It isn’t the hat that makes you play well.”
“I knew you were going to say something like that,” he muttered, “and even if it’s true, I want to be on the safe side, just in case. We’ve got to go back and get that hat!”
Knowing it would only waste valuable time to argue, Robin did as he requested. After all, his whole career as a major-league pitcher hung in the balance!
She was smiling as she entered her driveway. Sitting in the car while Jeff ran inside for his lucky cap, Robin glanced over at Cole’s place. His car was gone. It’d been gone since early that morning, and she suspected he was at the property, working on his house. Jeff would be disappointed about Cole missing his game, but he’d understand.
Jeff came barreling out of the house, slamming the front door. He leapt into the car and fastened his seat belt. “Come on, Mom,” he said anxiously, “let’s get this show on the road.” As if she’d caused the delay, Robin thought to herself, amused by her son’s sudden impatience.
By the time they arrived at Balboa Park, the car park was filled to overflowing. Robin was fortunate enough to find a space on the street, a minor miracle in itself. Perhaps there was something to this magic-cap business after all.
Jeff ran across the grass, hurrying toward his teammates, leaving Robin to fend for herself, which was fine. He had his precious cap and was content.
The bleachers were crowded with parents. Robin found a seat close to the top and had just settled in place when she saw Cole making his way toward her. Her heart did an immediate flip-flop and it wasn’t until he sat next to her that she was able to speak.
“I thought you were working up on the property this weekend.”
“And miss seeing Jeff pitch? Wild horses couldn’t have kept me away.” He was smiling at her with that cocky heart-stopping smile of his.
“How have you been?” she asked. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He looked too good to be true, and his dark gaze was filled with warmth and tenderness. How could she help getting lost in eyes that generous? It seemed impossible to resist him any longer.
“I’ve missed you like crazy,” he whispered, and the humor seemed to drain out of him as his eyes searched hers. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel this alone. Not anymore.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
He seemed to relax once she’d said that. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “Have you been thinking about what I said last weekend?”
She bowed her head. “I haven’t thought of anything else.”
“Then you’ve made up your mind?”
“No.” She kept her face lowered, not wanting him to see her confusion.
He tilted her chin with one finger, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I promised myself I wouldn’t ask you and then I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I won’t again.”
She offered him a weak smile, and Cole looked around him, clearly wanting to kiss her, but not in front of such a large gathering. The funny part was, Robin didn’t care about being seen. She was so hungry for the reassurance of his touch, it didn’t matter to her that they were in the middle of a crowded park.
“I see Jeff’s wearing his lucky hat,” Cole said, clasping her hand and giving her fingers a comforting squeeze.
“You know about that?”
“Of course. Jeff tells me everything.”
“He panicked when he realized he was wearing the wrong one, and I had to make a U-turn in the middle of the street because he’d left the guaranteed-to-pitch-well baseball cap on his dresser.”
“You can’t blame him. The luck has lasted through five games now.”
“I wonder if it’ll last until he reaches the pros,” Robin said, sharing a smile with him.
“You’re doing all right?” Cole asked unexpectedly.
She nodded, although it wasn’t entirely true. Now that she was with Cole, every doubt she’d struggled with all week vanished like fog under an afternoon sun. Only when they were apart was she confronted by her fears.
“After Jeff’s finished here, let’s do something together,” Cole suggested. “The three of us.”