Snow was falling. The icy flakes hitting her already chilled skin woke her. Disoriented, she sat up and tried to remember what had happened. The last thing she remembered was sobbing uncontrollably as she clung to Aiden’s tombstone. She must have cried herself to sleep.
She looked at her watch to see how much time had passed. That was when she realized how dark it was.
Champ’s lights were off. That couldn’t be good.
She pushed herself to her feet. Shivers wracked her body. When she wobbled unsteadily, she swallowed a jolt of fear. It was freezing out here. She could be suffering from hypothermia. If she didn’t get somewhere warm, she could die.
At least she was in the right place for it, her mind joked.
Oh, boy.
Shoving away from Aiden’s grave, she shuffled one foot in front of the other until she reached Champ. It took her three tries to clutch her fingers around the door’s handle. Finally, she yanked the door open and dropped into the driver’s seat, pulling the door closed behind her. Though she knew it was a wasted effort, she attempted to turn the ignition. All she got was a click.
Grabbing her cell phone, she realized it was dead, too. Great.
Briskly rubbing her hands together to try and get some feeling into them, she looked over at the caregiver’s residence. It was still dark. She didn’t see any vehicles near it, either.
Tilting her watch face, she was able to discern that it was half past three in the morning. Her grandpa had to be worried sick about her.
And Cole, too, she silently allowed. It was foolish not to acknowledge that he cared about her, despite their argument. She knew he would have at least checked in with her grandpa to make sure she got home safe. It had likely been him vibrating her cell while she drove in a fog. Once he realized she never reached home, he was sure to be concerned.
What a great way to treat them both on Christmas, she thought, swamped in guilt and misery. Who’s the selfish one now?
Biting her lip, she debated what to do. She hated to wake anyone at this hour, but she didn’t want to wait until dawn. Plus, she really had to pee.
Grabbing her purse, she got out of Champ and locked the doors. She hustled up the path to the dark building at the end of it. By the time she reached it, feeling was starting to return to her fingers and toes and the snow was falling even faster. At least an inch had already accumulated on the ground.
Several knocks on the door resulted in no response. Either the caretaker couldn’t hear her, or no one was home.
Fighting panic and a painful bladder, Everly looked around. She tried to think about what might be open nearby. Then she remembered the Waffle House where she’d eaten several times during the planning of her mother’s funeral. The Waffle House never closed.
Praying her bladder held out, she started toward the restaurant at a brisk walk that soon bordered on a jog. The sidewalks were covered in snow and ice, so she tried to exercise caution. Still, she slipped a few times.
It took her fifteen minutes to get there. By then, she had to race to the bathroom the moment she walked in. Thank God she made it in time.
As she washed her hands in hot water, she looked up and caught her reflection in the mirror. Lord, she was a mess. Her hair hung around her face in ragged, wet lumps. Half of the gauze bandage over her stitches had come loose. The makeup she’d so carefully applied before her date with Cole ran down her cheeks. It left ugly smudges under her eyes, which were red and swollen.
She had enough vanity that she took the time to scrub her face clean and secure her hair in a loose bun with a couple of pins that she kept in her purse. Fortunately, she’d put a fresh gauze bandage in her purse, so she was able to re-cover her stitches. Although the bruise on her cheek was clearly visible, at least she didn’t look quite as much like a zombie who’d come to snack on the Waffle House patrons.
When she emerged from the bathroom, she realized there actually weren’t any customers in the restaurant. There were just two men wearing uniforms…a large black guy with salt-and-pepper hair who appeared to be the cook, and a muscular Hispanic guy who looked only a few years older than her. She guessed he was the server on duty.
They watched her with wary expressions as she approached. She could just imagine what they must have thought, seeing her dash in looking like she had and heading right for the bathroom. Her lovely bruise and gauze bandage probably didn’t help matters.
“Hi,” she said. “Merry Christmas. My car died and my cell battery’s caput. Could I borrow your phone?”
“Phone lines have been down for half the night,” the Hispanic man said. His name tag read Manuel. “You tryin’ to reach the police?”
She frowned in confusion. “The police? No. I was going to call my grandpa.”
Manuel’s gaze brushed over her bruised cheek. “Seems you might want to consider calling the police.”
Seeing that he was concerned for her, she relaxed a fraction and smiled. “I’m okay. Really. I just need to let my grandpa know where I am.” When he walked out from behind the counter and approached her, her nerves rattled. “Do you have a cell I can borrow, Manuel?”
“Manny.”
“Okay. Manny, do you have a cell I can borrow?”
“You sure you didn’t get into an altercation with a big dude who looks a lot like Cole Parker?” interrupted the cook, whose nametag read Franklin.
Her eyes widening, she began, “How did—?”
Then the door opened behind her and Cole walked in.
* * *
Cole considered himself fortunate that he didn’t get any speeding tickets on his way to the Marietta cemetery where Aiden and Vicky Wallace were buried. Fear had him pressing hard on the accelerator despite the snow and ice. He got there inside of twenty minutes after hanging up the phone with Jake.
It didn’t take him long to find Everly’s car since it was the only one in the cemetery. Unfortunately, he didn’t see her anywhere. He drove up to the single building in the cemetery and knocked on the door, but didn’t receive a response.
Frustrated, he got back in his car and drove back out to the main road. Since he hadn’t passed her on his way in, he turned the other way. As he neared a Waffle House, he caught the flash of red hair, then Everly’s profile.
She was there.
He parked and kept his eyes on her back as he dialed Jake and shared the news. The relief he heard in the other man’s voice mirrored his own. He promised to get her home safe.
He disconnected the call and got out of his car. As he walked into the restaurant, he puzzled over the steely-eyed looks he was getting from the two males standing near Everly. Once he opened the door and Everly turned toward him, he understood.
The bruise decorated much of the left side of her face. He hadn’t realized how much she’d covered up with makeup. Seeing it marring her beautiful features hit him like a brick. He had to swallow hard and work on controlling his expression when she looked at him.
“Cole,” she said.
Her blue-green eyes were wide. Though she’d washed her face, it was obvious that she’d been crying.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said. “Are you all right?”
The male standing beside Everly moved to stand in front of her. He crossed heavily tattooed arms over his broad chest.
“You the reason for the mark on her face?” he asked.
“No,” Cole responded. He couldn’t decide whether to be insulted or grateful that he asked.
“He’s not, Manny,” Everly said. “He’s my boyfriend.”
It was the first time she’d said that. It made him want to grab her and haul her against him. That would have to be her move, though. He vowed that this relationship would progress at her rate of speed. He didn’t ever again want to go through what he had this past night.
“Boyfriends hit,” Manny said, his gaze still focused on Cole. “Even famous ones.”
“Not this one,” Cole stated.
Everly stepped
to Manny’s side and patted him on the arm. “Thank you for your concern. Truly. But Cole would never hit me.” Her gaze moved to him. “He knows I’d kick his ass if he did.”
One corner of Cole’s mouth lifted. “She’s right.”
“Aw’ight,” Manny said after another moment. He left Everly’s side, but his gaze moved cautiously between them.
Cole caught Everly’s gaze again. “I’m—”
She rushed forward, flinging her arms around him and interrupting his apology. He caught her and held her so tight that he feared he was hurting her ribs. But he couldn’t help himself. He closed his eyes and pressed his face against the top of her head. It was all he could do to keep his emotions in check.
“God, Everly…I thought—”
“I’m so sorry, Cole,” she said at the same time.
They didn’t speak again for another full minute. She eventually eased her grip on him and lifted her head to meet his gaze. He reached up and gently brushed his fingertips across her left cheek. He wished he could erase it…the bruise as well as the pain that she endured along with it.
“I should have told you about my father,” she said softly. “But I was ashamed. I—”
He touched her lips to silence her. “I’m sorry I pushed you so hard. You don’t have to tell me.”
“Thank you. But if you want to know everything there is to know about me, I’m ready to share it with you.”
Blinking, he looked around. “Here?”
“Why not?” she said with a shrug. “Everything’s easier over a plate of scattered, smothered, and covered, right?”
And so, in a far corner of the Waffle House as the sky began to lighten on Christmas morning, Cole listened as the woman he loved bared her soul.
Chapter 45
“Aiden was almost nine years old when I came along,” she began, doctoring her coffee with sugar and creamer. “By then, he was already showing natural aptitude for baseball. My father played ball in high school and he wanted his son to follow in his footsteps. He registered Aiden in Little League when he was barely old enough to hold a bat. Fortunately, my brother took to the sport like a fish to water.
“My arrival was something of a surprise. My mom was thrilled to have a little girl, though, and Aiden was just as happy to have a little sister.” A smile ghosted her mouth. “He’d always wanted siblings.”
Cole also smiled. He wanted to encourage her. But he couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t mention her father among those who were happy about her arrival.
“My first memories of my brother are from his early teen years. I must have driven him crazy wanting to tail after him everywhere, but he rarely lost his patience with me. All of my early baseball education came from him. He brought me to a lot of his practices and games. By the time I was eight, I was handling jobs at the ball field like manning the scoreboard or working as the ball girl. I wanted to feel like a part of the game.”
She lifted her mug and took a sip. He realized his coffee was sitting in front of him getting cold, so he also drank. He didn’t taste it, though.
“My parents already had a lot invested in Aiden’s future when I came along,” she continued. “I don’t remember a time back then when things weren’t planned around his practices, games, or private lessons. Baseball was our life.”
What about her? he wondered. Didn’t her parents encourage her to do activities of her own?
But he knew the answer without her having to say it.
“There was never a question that my brother would either enter the draft out of high school or go on to play in college. It was a heated debate in our household. My father wanted Aiden to enter the draft. He never went to college, so he didn’t see the need for his son to do so. My mom, on the other hand, wanted Aiden to have the security of a college education. She didn’t go to college either, and she wanted more for her children.”
Manny approached with their food. “Here you go,” he said, setting plates down in front of them. “Can I get you any ketchup or hot sauce?”
“No thanks, Manny,” Everly said, giving him a smile. “This looks wonderful. I’m starving.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Cole added.
The server left them and returned to his conversation with the cook. Cole appreciated the fact that they were giving them privacy. So far, the rest of the restaurant was still empty.
“I remember Aiden coming into my room one night when my parents were fighting over whether he should go to college,” she said, sprinkling salt and pepper onto her eggs and hash browns. “I was nine at the time. I just asked him which option would keep him closer so I could see him more often. The next day, he applied to Georgia Tech without consulting our parents. He was accepted and offered a full scholarship.
“When my father found out that Aiden was going to skip the draft and play college ball, he was furious. Aiden told him that he wanted to be close to home so I could see him play.” She ate some hash browns, then fiddled with her fork. Her eyes were on her plate when she said, “That was the first time my father hit me.”
Cole slowly lowered his fork. The bite of sausage in his mouth suddenly tasted bitter, but he swallowed it. His gaze swept over Everly’s face as he pictured a father raising a hand to a nine-year-old little girl. The dusting of freckles on her nose stood out in unusually stark contrast to her pale skin, making her look fragile. The bruise made her look broken.
He shouldn’t have asked her to revisit this, he realized. He couldn’t bear it.
But he would do this, because Everly had borne it.
When he didn’t comment, she ate another bite of hash browns, then went on, “He waited until Aiden and my mom were both out of the house. He asked me if I had said anything to my brother about going to college. When I confessed about my conversation with Aiden, he hit me in the side of the head. It knocked me over a footstool. I sprained my wrist. He told me that I’d better tell everyone that it had been an accident or I’d suffer far worse. So I lied. Clearly, it was far from the last time that sort of thing happened.”
She drank some more coffee. Finally, her gaze met his. “As you may know from your earlier research, Aiden was spectacular at Tech. He broke a couple of records.” She smiled briefly. “The first three years he was there were the happiest of his life. He met a girl his sophomore year. Natalie. She was nice. Didn’t treat me like a dweebie little sister. Anyway, she graduated the year before Aiden did. I realized they were having some problems as his senior year went on, but I was too young and self-involved to know exactly what was up. Later, I found out that Natalie was taking care of her sick mother and trying to get her career off the ground, so she wasn’t as much a part of Aiden’s life as he was used to. At his funeral, she was a wreck. She blamed herself, which is foolish, of course. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
“Early in his senior year, Aiden’s elbow started bothering him. At first, it was only during certain pitches. Sliders, mostly. He thought there was something off with his mechanics. My father paid for special consultations with pitching instructors, but none of it helped.”
Cole nodded. For him, the shoulder pain was first noticeable while throwing a curve.
“It got progressively worse. By mid-season, Aiden’s team doctors recommended that he consult with an orthopedic surgeon. My father blew them off. I overheard him convincing Aiden to do the same. They knew that surgery meant an end to his season. It also meant he’d miss out on the draft. To my father, there wasn’t anything worse. He could all but taste the success he’d experience by having fathered a star athlete. It was all he ever wanted since he missed out on being the star himself.”
She ate some of her eggs, then sipped her coffee. Manny walked over with the pot and refilled both of their mugs. After making sure they had everything they needed, he left them alone again. Outside, the snow continued to fall.
“I spoke with my brother separately, tried to reason with him. He was about to earn his bachelor’s degree in computer science f
rom one of the top universities in the country. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a fall-back if things didn’t work out with baseball. This time, however, he listened to my father. Two weeks later, he tore his UCL.”
Cole winced. Everly nodded.
“Yeah. Doctors decided that Tommy John surgery was the only option. Put him out for the rest of the season. That was really the beginning of the end.”
Finished with his breakfast, Cole reached across the table and touched her right hand. “Your food has to be getting cold. Why don’t you humor me and eat.”
She didn’t argue. They both knew what was coming. He figured a couple of minutes for her to collect her thoughts wouldn’t hurt.
When she had cleaned her plate, Manny walked up and took the empty dishes. “Take your time,” he told them. “Just holler if you need anything.”
They thanked him. Then Everly’s gaze once again grew reflective.
“Aiden wasn’t the same after the injury. He lost a lot of the spirit that I loved about him. Instead of focusing on getting healthy and finding another way to pursue his dream, he dwelled on what could have been. He neglected his conditioning after the surgery, basically giving up. I tried to help motivate him, but I couldn’t get through to him.”
Her eyes grew damp. He reached across the table and took her hand. She gripped it tight.
“After graduation, with the draft behind him and no offers made, Aiden sank deeper into depression. He broke things off with Natalie and stopped hanging out with his friends from school. He refused to talk to me about what bothered him. And he argued with my parents on a daily basis. I listened to numerous shouting matches with my father going on about how Aiden had blown his chance at greatness. How he’d never amount to anything now. It was horrible.”
He couldn’t even imagine.
“Then Aiden started issuing dark comments. Comments about how it would have been better if he’d never been born. He frightened me. When I expressed my concern to my mom, she said that Aiden was just going through a tough time. That it would pass. But I didn’t think so.”