Chapter 2

CHAPTER

TWO

DANI

I keep my phone on speaker so I can switch out laundry and talk at the same time. Multi-tasking at its finest. Jenny’s voice fills the room as we chat, and she conducts her daily check in.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay. I mean, what’s a best friend for if she isn’t sending you funny TikToks to make you smile?”

“Jenny, I’m fine. Really. Although, don’t stop sending the TikToks. I love the animal ones. We watched the one with the baby goat enough times to make it go viral.” She giggles at my approval of her distraction efforts.

Jenny is my best friend, fellow third-grade teacher, and eternal optimist like me. Although, her energy and positivity make my sunny disposition look like Debbie Downer. She’s over the top, and I love her. Right now, given her volume and tone, her happiness level is off the scale.

“I’m just embarrassed and angry he got the best of me. I would have taken him down if you and Tyler hadn’t walked up.” I chuckle because I may look weak, but I’m mighty. As a female military brat growing up surrounded by lots of guys, my dad, the Colonel, made sure I was well-versed in self-defense. I’m not above a kick to the junk. I can take down a guy twice my size without breaking a sweat.

“No doubt. I know you were about to put him in his place. I could see it in your eyes and feel horrible that we walked up and, well, that it happened at all.” Her enthusiasm for making me laugh leaves, and her tone sobers.

“It’s okay, I’m fine, and the swelling is almost gone. There’s barely a mark. We can put this entire thing behind us.”

Tyler yells at me because the doorbell isn’t enough of a notification. “Mom, there’s someone at the door!”

“Don’t open the door! Wait for me, please.” Like most six-year-olds, Tyler is fearless. And also bad at listening.

“Jen, I gotta run. I’ll chat later!” I hang up and push the start button on the washer. As a single mother and teacher, the struggle is real. I reach the front door, where I find Tyler talking to a beautiful young woman. This isn’t the neighborhood a pretty blonde like her should go door to door. She’s stooped down to talk to him at his eye level.

“Tyler, what did I tell you about answering the door?” I try to use my teacher voice, but it’s summer, and I’m out of practice. He’s not even phased.

“Mom, this lady asked me if I like baseball. You know I love baseball, right? She said I could get a baseball if we came to a game. Isn’t that cool?” His words are fast, and although I’m fluent in Tyler speak, I have no idea what he’s talking about.

Tyler just finished his first season of T-ball this spring and is ready to start again in the fall. He loves everything about the game, and it’s nearly year-round when you live in North Carolina. It’s a perfect outlet for all of his energy too.

“Very cool, Tyler.” I finally address the woman at my door. “May I help you?” She stands to her full height, and I’m greeted by a warm smile. She’s wearing a Reapers polo, a white skort, and a cute pair of tennis shoes with a leopard print. Very professional and casual, the perfect look to put someone at ease. She extends her hand.

“Hi, I’m Ashleigh with the Carolina Reapers. I’m looking for Danny Franklin. Is he home?”

I shake her hand and return her smile. I always laugh when people think I’m a guy. It’s been like this my entire life. “I’m Dani. How can I help you?”

She looks shocked. “You’re Dani? Wow. Okay, then. Sorry,” she stutters. She’s clearly thrown by this revelation. “I only had the police report, and it had Danny spelled like a male,” she mutters as a way of explanation. At the mention of the police report, I automatically raise my hand to cover the bruise on my cheek. She catches herself and focuses. “Wow. I’m sorry to drop in on you unexpectedly. Do you have a minute to talk?”

It’s a hot July day in Charlotte at almost a hundred degrees, and she looks safe enough. “Sure, why don’t you come in? Sorry for the mess. It’s laundry day. Can I offer you some tea? I’m sweating more than a whore in church.” I wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand.

“Mom, what’s a whore?” Tyler asks.

I roll my eyes at myself because I forgot he’s standing next to me. “It’s, um, someone who gets really hot in church because they wear so many clothes,” I try to explain. Lying is a bad habit I don’t want him to have, but sometimes I have to with him. The fact that I used the phrase in front of him goes to show I’m a little frazzled today. Why would someone from the Reapers be looking for me?

Ashleigh laughs. “I don’t mean to intrude, but tea would be nice. It’s definitely hot out.” She gives me a little wink and a disarming smile.

“Sure, come on in. Tyler, why don’t you gather your towels and bring them to the laundry room, please.” It’ll take him several trips, but at least it will keep him busy while I find out what she wants. We walk into the kitchen, and I pour us each a glass of iced tea. We lean against the counters and take a sip, appreciating the refreshing, cool, sweet tea and the reprieve from the heat.

“Thanks,” she says. “This hits the spot. Again, I apologize for the drop-in and the mix-up. I don’t have the details, as you can probably guess by my assumption with your name, but I know that one of our players was charged with assault on a Dani Franklin. On behalf of the Reapers, I want to apologize for what happened. We pride ourselves on being a family organization, and hitting a woman most definitely violates our code of conduct. He’s no longer on our team, and we’re working to ensure he’s not associated with our organization.” Sincerity and regret fill her face. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” She glances at my bruise and tries not to stare.

I’m shocked at her apology. I’ve seen so many athletes misbehave, and everyone still puts them on a pedestal because they can do something with a ball. For her to tell me they fired him is surprising and against the norms I’m used to. Concern fills her voice. She’s more than a mouthpiece for the team, and she’s obviously upset.

“Thanks. I’m okay.” My hand reaches for my face, but I catch myself and give her a reassuring smile instead.

Tyler comes back into the kitchen, towels dragging behind him. We both laugh as he proudly wrangles the laundry to the washer.

“Well, we would like to invite you and your family to a game this Friday. VIP access. You’ll be treated to behind-the-scenes tours, sit in the owner’s suite, and be our guests. I’d bet Tyler would love it.” She looks toward the laundry room and suppresses her laughter as she watches him fight to untangle himself from the towels.

“Oh, he’d more than love it, but it’s unnecessary. I don’t blame the team for the actions of one person.” I really don’t. I wasn’t even going to press charges, but my father insisted. He said the man should be held accountable. He went down to the police station that night, and they had the video footage from some bystander. I was the missing piece of the puzzle. They categorized it as domestic violence, and therefore the police didn’t need the victim, me apparently, to press charges, so they had already arrested him when my father showed up. I had no idea he was a hotshot baseball player. To me, he was an entitled man who thought I would fall at his feet. He thought wrong.

We were at the uptown food festival when Jenny took Tyler to get a churro while I finished my lunch. Can’t a girl just mind her own business and enjoy her food without being harassed these days? Apparently not. This guy approached me and insisted he knew me. He reeked of alcohol and privilege. When I politely told him I’d never seen him before he became indignant. He kept repeating, “you know me.” Then he changed tactics and decided he would refresh my memory.

I used the usual deflection moves, including a firm no, but it was obvious that was a word he wasn’t used to hearing. It was fine until it wasn’t. Jenny and Tyler were coming back when I had just told him douchebags weren’t my type. That’s when he hit me. I had just turned my head to see where Tyler was, and he grazed my left cheek with his fist. I was shocked, but Tyler was upset, and I made it my number one priority to get him away from the scene.

Mr. Entitled stumbled off, and some guy grabbed him and told him it wasn’t cool. They had another altercation, and we scurried out of there as the police rushed toward the ruckus.

My cheek didn’t even hurt until I got home, probably because of the adrenaline coursing through my body. The swelling has subsided but there’s a still a slight bruise, but it looks better now that a few days have passed. No permanent damage, although I’m aware it could have been worse. Nothing a little ice and concealer can’t fix. Tyler has been a little clingy, and when he touches my face, I do my best not to wince. He’s the one I worry about. Always.

Ashleigh smiles and reminds me the world is filled with better people than Mr. Entitled. “It would be our pleasure to host you. Please come. I’d love to share my family with you.”

“Your family?” This girl takes her job seriously.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m Ashleigh Decker. My family owns the Reapers.” She gives me a huge smile, and it’s hard to believe anyone can say no to her. “And I’d like you and your family to be my guests at the game on Friday. We’ll have fun, I promise.”

“Can we go, Mom? Please? Pretty please?” Tyler begs at my side.

I smile down at him and rub his head. Excitement becomes Tyler’s entire personality. At this point, I’d be a monster if I said no. “We’d love to come. Can I bring my parents too? My dad’s a huge fan.”

“Absolutely. Anyone else you want to bring, you let me know. Here’s my number.” She hands me a business card. “I’ll meet you at the main entrance an hour and a half before the game. That’ll give us time for a tour, a little shopping for all the gear, and dinner before the first pitch. Sound good?”

“Sounds great. We can’t wait, can we, Tyler?”

“Woo hoo! I’m going to a Reapers game! I’m going to a Reapers game!” He runs around the kitchen, shouting his chant.

Looks like we’re going to a Reapers game. I’ve always said that in everything, there is good. Even in bad, dark times, there’s always gratitude to be found. Here’s to the good blooming from the bad.