Current Day

The scent of vanilla smacks me in the face as soon as I open the back door, and there’s no stopping the smile from the familiarity. Some things never change. Sleep evaded me last night, so I decided to leave for Jonesburg early. I set the presents down and shake my coat off. Slippers slapping across the linoleum makes being here worth it, especially in three, two, one…

“AJ, you’re early.” Nonjudgmental arms wrap around me and reaffirm my decision to leave the city early.

“Momma.” I embrace her hug maybe a little too much. She doesn’t drop her arms but leans back to get a better look at me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Mom.” Damn, that woman knows everything. Always did. “Can’t I just hug my favorite lady?”

She purses her lips. “Something’s up, boy.”

“Nothing’s wrong. Just miss ya.”

“Come on inside here. I’m making the cut-out cookies.”

My stomach rumbles.

I watch Mom work around the kitchen. She clears out a space to roll out my childhood memories. As she maneuvers the dough, the lack of counter space becomes abundantly clear.

“Mom, why don’t you let me buy you a bigger house? One with a larger kitchen.”

“Why do I need more space? It’s mainly just me. Besides, Cara will be gone soon, and I like living here.”

The guilt from what I put her through pulls at me. I think of Cara’s recent stunt she pulled. Other than that, she has never done anything major to make Mom worry. But not me. Mom had to pick me up from the precinct. If it wasn’t for my coach…

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For causing you so much grief. Among other things. I didn’t make life easy for you.”

She puts the rolling pin down and eyes me. Her voice is cautious as she says, “You were young, but I think you turned out just fine.”

“Doesn’t excuse all the crap I did or the major thing.”

“Major thing?”

I grunt.

“AJ, you haven’t talked about this in, well, ever. Does this have something to do with the girl you’re seeing?”

My eyes widen from surprise before my mind flashes back to my high school years. Other than the natural wrinkles that come with age, Mom still looks the same as the woman from my youth. Right down to the hand on the hip and the same worry lines creasing her forehead.

“How do you know about Mia?”

“A mother always knows.”

“Cara,” I mumble under my breath. She must’ve blabbed. “There is no longer a girl.”

“What’d you do?”

“It’s not me. Blame the Phillies; they’re the ones trading me.”

“Baseball players get traded all the time. I’m sure their relationships don’t end with a change of a hat.”

And that’s Mom, reducing my shambles to a baseball cap metaphor.

“No, but I’m sure Mia doesn’t want to move. She doesn’t even want to continue what we have. It’s for the best, anyway. I don’t deserve her. Everything bad in our lives”—I wave my hand between Mom and me—“is my fault. I’ll end up ruining her life, too. I’m too much like Dad.”

The sharp intake of air makes me regret bringing him up. He’s never mentioned. Hasn’t been mentioned in years, other than when people say I act just like him.

“You’re nothing like your father.”

I run my hand through my hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “Yeah, well, every time I fu—messed up, people always said I was just like him.”

“No. People only said that because your father was a screwball.” She pauses, and I brace myself for her next words. Those tiny lines forming in her brow never mean anything good. “AJ, do you blame yourself for him leaving?”

My mother is always insightful. I close my eyes and shake my head. Why did I even start this conversation? “Of course, I’m the reason why. I’ve known for years.”

“What do you know? Or what do you think you know?”

“I heard him tell you that he couldn’t handle me anymore. He left right after.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I watched you struggle, and I’m the reason behind it.”

“Oh, AJ. Is that what you thought?”

“That’s what I’ve known.”

“No, son. You’re not to blame for your father walking out.”

“But I heard him.”

“That man couldn’t handle life or responsibilities. We married young and had children. He just never grew up. Believe me when I say him leaving is not your fault.”

“But if I were a better kid, he’d still be here.”

“Sweetie, no.” She lets out a sigh. “He left to be with his girlfriend.”

“What?”

“When you heard him tell me he couldn’t handle you or Cara, he meant he couldn’t handle our life. His other woman was young with no responsibility. A shiny new toy he couldn’t stay away from. When she offered a fun, carefree life, he took her up on it. Although I doubt they stayed that way.”

“I can’t believe he had another woman.” All these years I carried the burden of him leaving. The bastard. How could he have done that to Mom? “It still doesn’t negate the fact I’m just like him, though. People still refer to me as being carefree.”

“You’re nothing like him. It may be true that you had a lot of energy, but you channeled it toward playing baseball. Whether you want to believe it or not, you are responsible. Look, what you do for your sister. Sure, the women in your life have been a revolving door—”

“Mom!”

She holds her hands up in protest. “Please, I’m not that old. But you have a good heart. And if this new girl can get you to curb your language, I like her already.”

Curb my language? How the?

“How did you know she hates me cussing?”

“You’ve been here for thirty minutes, and you’ve only sworn once. And that was only a partial.”

I chuckle. The first genuine laugh since Mia ended things. “You may be right.”

“Any woman you’re willing to make a positive change for is worth fighting for. Come on, AJ. It’s the bottom of the ninth with two outs. Time for you to step up to the plate.”

Holy crap, she’s right. I pop off the chair. “I hope you don’t mind, but there’s something I have to do.”

Her lips press into a knowing smile. “I’d be upset if you didn’t.”

“Thanks, Momma.” I lean over to plant a peck on her cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

“Go get her, slugger.”

As I walk out the back door, I glance up at the mistletoe and yank it down. Stupid parasite. When I pull out my phone, I proceed to dial the last number I ever thought I’d be calling. But I really need to hit a home run this time.

Drake answers with a grim voice. “Look, dude, I’m sorry I hooked up with your sister, but—”

“Never mind that. I know we’re pissed at each other, but I need a huge a favor.”