I rub my palm over the intricate stitching. “It is.”
“It’s . . . nice.”
“Why, thank—”
“She’s being polite, dude,” Carson says, eating another scallop. “There was a pause in her sentence. She hates it.”
“I don’t hate it,” Milly says, but then doesn’t continue. She doesn’t love it, that’s for damn sure.
“Fine.” I reach behind me, pull my sweater over my head, drop it on the floor, and then bury my hands in my hair. “Happy? Now my nipples are going to get hard from being cold.”
“Why is your shirt off?” Knox asks, standing on the other side of the countertop to indulge in some appetizers.
“Everyone hates it, so I’d rather be naked.”
“I liked it,” Knox says casually.
“Really?” I perk up.
“No.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Hideous, man.”
Growing angry, I say, “Don’t you see I’m suffering here? My heart is broken, and you assholes are being jerks. Don’t kick a man when he’s down.”
“He’s right,” Emory says, rubbing my back and reaching over to grab an olive. “Jason needs our love right now, not our jokes.”
I thumb toward Emory. “She gets it.”
“How are you doing, Jason?”
“Not great,” I admit. “I can’t even look at her without getting angry. She came over the other day to talk to me.”
“What did she say?” Knox asks.
“Just that she told the Carltons the truth. Like, good for you, thumbs up, you still fucked me over.”
“That’s all she said?” Emory asks, looking confused.
“It’s all I let her say before I closed the door. Honestly, there’s nothing she can say that will make me feel better. When I read the email from her dad, I was stunned. I’ve never felt so embarrassed, so humiliated. I was cooking for her business meeting, bare-ass naked, and she was only using me for her own personal gain.”
“Why were you naked?” Carson asks. Of course, that’s what he focuses on.
“Because cooking naked is sexy. Try it, it will spice up your marriage,” I say, waving my hand in his direction.
“Our marriage doesn’t need spicing up, isn’t that right, Milly? Just this morning the turkey wasn’t the only thing that was stuffed.”
Everyone turns to her as her face immediately lights up in a bright shade of red.
“Don’t torture the poor girl,” Lindsay says from the living room where she’s playing Candy Land with her son and Mama G.
“I think we need to forget about the whole Dottie thing, okay? I’ve moved on.”
“What?” Emory asks. “Are you dating someone else?”
“No.” I shake my head while picking up a pickle. Sweet, of course, because Carson brought the pickles. “But I heard if you say things into the universe, they come true. Setting intentions.”
“I think Dottie is a lovely young lady who got caught up in trying to prove herself and said the wrong thing,” Mama G says. Together we all spin around to look at her. No one messes with Mama G, so when she says something, we pay attention. “Haven’t you ever wanted something so badly that you’ll do anything to get it?” She pointedly looks at the three professional baseball players in the apartment. “Pretty sure you have. What makes it any different for Dottie?”
“Because she lied; she could have told me the truth.”
“If that’s what you’re going to base this all off, what she could have done, then you, my sweet boy, are a fool.”
Silence falls over the apartment, Mama G’s words stinging . . . hard.
“Oh shit,” Knox mutters. “She called you a fool.”
“I don’t think I can breathe,” Carson says, looking scared shitless.
I’m right there with him. Mama G was our designated cheer squad when Knox was at Brentwood. Our mother hen, always bringing us treats and acting as if we were her own. There is no denying it. Her comment drives a stake right to my heart. How can she call me a fool? Dottie lied. End of story. Yes, we all understand that yearning and drive we’ve experienced getting to the level of baseball we’re at. But we didn’t do that by lying to those we cared about. I mean, Emory did withhold from Knox that she was still living in Chicago. But that wasn’t to use him . . . Carson did run from Milly and then encourage business her way, even though he didn’t contact her . . . But that wasn’t really lying to her . . .
All four of them hurt each other before they got together. All four were devastated . . . for a time. But then they found love—
No, it’s not the same. I refuse to be called a fool over someone else’s deceit.
“Now.” She claps her hands together. “Let’s all hold hands and say what we’re grateful for,” she says in a cheery disposition, as if she didn’t just insult me.
“I’ll be grateful if Jason puts his shirt back on,” Knox says, but I don’t laugh.
I feel a haze fall over me.
Am I really being a fool?
She hurt me. She used me. How is that me being a fool?
“Wow, it’s beautiful in here,” Emory says, taking in the old warehouse turned banquet hall we rented for the after-event party.
We decorated the space with an old-fashioned baseball theme. Pennants stream across the rafters, cracker jacks, peanuts, and popcorn are centerpieces at each table, along with pinstripe tablecloths. We used old crates for display and made table flags with The Lineup logo on them. Natalie did an amazing job and since the food is baseball-park themed, I can’t wait to dig in.
My team won the game of course, because I stacked my side, leaving Walker with a few good players. He didn’t mind. All he cared about was connecting with the athletes who came to represent their disability. I saw him stay close to one girl in particular with pigtails, and I wondered if she reminds him of his sister? Most likely.
Joseph clung to my side the whole time, enamored with the big names we had on the field. He scored two runs—we had endless substitution—and like in high school, I hit him in both times. It felt good being out there on the field with him, seeing that infectious smile again. I wish someone else was there to see it.
Yeah, okay, so Dottie was supposed to be here today and clearly, she isn’t. Which is fine, whatever, I told her to go suck it and for good reason. I don’t need to remind you what happened. You remember, so try to tell me I was wrong. I wasn’t, right?
With each day that passes, I think about what Mama G said, what she called me. And now that I’m at this event with the closest people in my life, I still feel empty. She’s supposed to be here, holding my hand, meeting my family, hanging out with my friends, being a part of this charity that’s one of the proudest things I’ve ever created.
But she’s not.
And that makes me sad.
“Natalie did a good job with the event planning,” I say, trying to put on a good smile. Even though this event isn’t what I hoped for, with Dottie at my side, there are still a lot of people here for me, for Joseph, and I need to give them my all. “She’s been working her butt off.”