Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

“My sister Rosie is dying to meet you,” Tristan said as he finished off the last of his rum and Coke.

“Great,” Ben grumbled.

“No, really, she’s been talking about you for days.”

That was horrifying.

Even though they’d played on the same team for a couple of years early in their careers, he’d never met Tristan’s parents or either of his sisters. He’d been introduced to a brother, years ago, but that was it. One sister was married and had a couple of kids. Rosie had to be the one in college. She was too young for him, and he wasn’t interested in starting a relationship anyway. It was better, easier , to focus on baseball.

Tristan and Natalie were so excited about this week. No one-day wedding for them, no. They’d arranged a gulf-side resort for four days, complete with lunches, brunches, and dinners. A party for the bride and her friends, another for the groom and his. The rehearsal dinner Friday night was supposedly going to be epic. Tristan’s word of choice, not his. And of course, the actual wedding, beachside if the weather cooperated, on Saturday. Saturday seemed far off, at the moment.

The groom was paying for it all, and he could afford to. At times Tristan was just a normal, kind of goofy dude, but on the mound he was a genius. His fast ball was one of a kind. If Tristan stayed healthy he was going to be in demand for years to come.

Even though they hadn’t been on the same team for a while, they’d stayed friends. In a weird streak of coincidence, it had been Ben who’d introduced the bride and groom.

Two women snuck up on them as they were finishing their drinks and conversation. Tristan made quick work of the intruders, managing to turn them away without being rude, though he was insistent and the girls obeyed. That ability to send pushy strangers packing without pissing them off was a gift Ben didn’t share. He glanced away as the blonde that had squeezed between them giggled and backed away.

With the turn of his head he noticed an overloaded woman standing by the elevator. She looked like she could use help; that would give him an excuse to get away from the bar. The woman with her hands full made her way onto the elevator. She only stumbled a little.

His chance to be chivalrous came and went.

It was hard to get excited about a wedding these days, lavish or not. He didn’t have time for romance. It was better to focus on baseball. That was his job, his calling. His divorce six years earlier had convinced him any thoughts of marriage and family would have to wait. He liked Tristan a lot, but being here was an obligation. He’d do what had to be done, but damn he wished people would stop trying to set him up.

Ben said goodnight and headed for the elevator. Luckily it was empty and stayed that way until he reached the fifth floor. Once inside his room he headed straight for the sliding glass door. The balcony beyond was small, with just enough room for two chairs and a small table. The view was spectacular, especially at night, with moonlight shining on the water.

He didn’t see the woman until she spoke. She’d been struggling with her luggage last time he’d seen her. Now she sat in shadow on the balcony next to his, a cup of coffee in her hand, her feet propped on the little table.

She said, “You stole my parking spot.”

“What?”

“You and your fancy sports car,” she grumbled.

“It’s a…”

“I don’t care what it is. You stole my spot.”

“Uh, sorry?”

“I suppose you didn’t know it was my spot so I’ll let it go. Eventually. I saw you talking to Tristan downstairs. Are you here for the wedding?”

He should say goodnight and step back inside. Peace and quiet, that’s what he needed right now. It was his bad luck that the balcony not behind a privacy wall was occupied by a chatty woman. If her room was on the other side of his he’d never see her, but these connecting room balconies were open to one another. For families, he supposed, as opposed to single men who just wanted to be left alone.

He could be civil and answer her question, then go inside. What other choice did he have? “I am.”

“Me, too,” she said. “Have you known Tristan long? I’d really like to know if he’s a good guy, you know, I want to make sure he’s good enough for Nat. I mean, I know he has money, that he can take care of her and all that, but is he worthy?”

Worthy . That was an odd word, but he got it. “You can rest easy. Tristan is a good guy, and he’s crazy about Natalie.”

“Good. That makes me feel better.”

He could sit as he’d planned, turn away from her so she wasn’t in his line of sight. For a while he could enjoy the view he’d come out here for. If he wasn’t looking at the woman she’d probably stop talking. But he didn’t sit, and he didn’t turn his back on her. “Are you good friends with the bride?”

“Best friends since second grade, though we don’t talk much anymore. After college we went our separate ways. It’s going to be a busy few days, but I hope we have a chance to catch up.”

Second grade ? “Natalie and I actually went to school together for a few years, before my Dad got transferred to North Carolina. I was twelve when we left Huntsville.”

The woman looked his way. He still couldn’t see her face nearly well enough. “That means you and I went to school together.”

Ben moved closer to the railing. He could barely see her, but a dim light from her room shone through the windows giving him a hint, or two. Her hair was red, he could tell that much. Hair color alone was hardly enough for him to be sure, but he said, “Molly?”

She left her chair, put her paper coffee cup on the table, and joined him. They stood just a few feet apart. Molly squinted and leaned forward. “I’m sorry to say, I don’t recognize you. I suspect you’ve changed a bit since you were twelve.”

“Ben Crusher.”

She took a step back. “Benjy?”

He laughed. “No one has called me Benjy for a very long time.”

“You’ve definitely changed,” she said with a smile. “Oh my God, why didn’t Nat tell me you’d be here? This is crazy, that we’re next door to each other, though I guess they put wedding people on the same floor. You really do look great. What are you doing these days?”

She didn’t know? There were times he was convinced everyone on the planet knew his every move, his successes and his failures. “I’m playing ball in Boston.”

“Really? That’s cool. I guess you like it?”

“I do.”

“But ugh. Boston! Isn’t it cold?”

That was a different reaction from the ones he usually got. He loved playing ball, but he hated the fame that came with it. People could be weird. “Sometimes. Do you follow baseball at all?”

“Nope. Sorry,” Molly answered decisively. “Baseball is the most boring sport there is. Well, no, soccer is first, but then baseball. The games are so long!”

Ben smiled. “They can be. What about you? What are you doing these days?”

She sighed. “I’d been working public relations for a tech company in Knoxville, but I was fired a week and a half ago.”

“What happened?”

“I wouldn’t date the boss.” The expression on her face wasn’t angry, exactly, but he could tell the firing or the reason for it or both annoyed her. “I could sue, I suppose, but I don’t have any proof and besides, I didn’t like the job all that much. This means for Christmas I get to go home and ask my parents if I can live with them for a while until I land another position.”

If she was thinking of moving in with her parents, he could safely assume she wasn’t married. Why not? She was gorgeous without trying too hard, easy to talk to even after all these years. Maybe, like him, she’d tried marriage and decided it wasn’t for her.

“You know,” Ben said, “I never got an answer from you.”

Molly had one of those faces that revealed everything. She must be a lousy poker player. He’d seen annoyance earlier, now confusion. “About what?”

“I asked you to marry me, and you said you’d think about it.”

She looked surprised for a split second, and then her expression changed, like she’d forgotten and with his reminder the memory came flooding back. “Oh, yeah. We were twelve at the time. You proposed to me on the playground, just a few days before you moved.” She smiled and it was so familiar, so warm . “It’s been a long time. I have to admit, I’ve moved on.”

Looking at her, Ben wasn’t sure he had.

OMG, Benjy Crusher! She hadn’t exactly forgotten his proposal, but the memory had been relegated to the back of her mind. He and his family had moved during Christmas vacation. He hadn’t been happy about it at all, and had proposed to her just so he’d have a connection with Huntsville and his old friends when he was living somewhere else. At least, that was what she’d thought at the time.

“I had to tell you there was no Santa Claus,” she said.

“You broke my heart.”

“Because I didn’t say yes?”

“Because you told me there was no Santa.”

“I could hardly let you move to a new school and embarrass yourself.”

He smiled. That’s when she saw Benjy in Ben. Well, this was awful. Sports car guy was an old friend! Very old.

“I’ve since discovered that children who believe in Santa later than most are usually very intelligent and filled with the belief that anything is possible,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Still, I could’ve really embarrassed myself in the new school, so thanks.”

Another piece of a memory slipped to the front of her mind. When he’d proposed Benjy had given her one half of a heart on a delicate chain. He’d kept the other half. That was why the Tinsel woman’s ornament had seemed familiar.

“You’re welcome.” She didn’t mention the necklace he’d given her, but she did wonder where it was. In a box of keepsakes in the closet in her childhood bedroom, which was now a workout room for her folks? Had her mom tossed it during one of her purges? “I can’t believe you’re… right here.”

“Do you have plans for breakfast?” Ben asked.

“Bridesmaids’ brunch at ten. Natalie has already texted me about it five times.” Had that been an invitation or was he just being polite? She’d go with polite for now.

“The guys are golfing tomorrow morning, then we’ll have lunch somewhere. Tristan’s Dad planned it.”

“You golf?”

Again, that smile. “I will tomorrow. I don’t normally have time for much of a social life. This week is the exception.”

“Forced vacation.”

“You could say that.”

“We can get together sometime, I’m sure.” For breakfast, or a drink, or coffee.

Ben insisted they exchange phone numbers, so he could text about meeting up at some point during the wedding madness.

She needed to say goodnight, go into her room, and pull the curtains closed. It had been a long day and she was exhausted. A good night’s sleep was just a few minutes, a few steps, away. But she simply looked at Ben, trying to meld the memory of the boy she’d known with the man before her. His hair was the same dark brown, and though she couldn’t see them well in this light she wondered if his hazel eyes still had those streaks of green. Instead of a scrawny kid he was an extraordinarily well-built man.

She hadn’t seen Ben in eighteen years, but still there was something familiar about him, something comfortable.

It would be foolish to get comfortable with any man at the moment. Her life was in turmoil. Changes were coming, and she didn’t know where she was going to go, what she was going to do. A good looking guy like this one probably had a wife, or a girlfriend, or a string of girlfriends. She would not be some sexy man’s wedding conquest. Breakfast? No thanks.

“I’m still mad at you for stealing my parking place.”