7
Wes
Isabelle seemed genuinely surprised to see me, and we made our way out of the library back to my SUV. She climbed into the front seat next to mine, and as I started the car, she immediately jumped into a conversation.
“Really Dad, why are you home?” She had a worried look on her face like I was keeping something from her.
“It’s nothing to worry about honey,” I said to her as I backed out of the spot and turned left down Main Street to head back home. I glanced over and could see she was still staring at me, waiting for an answer. “The team released me yesterday,” I finally said to her.
“Why would they do that?” Izzy yelled.
“Well, I can give you a lot of reasons that might not make much sense to you or to me either, but none of that matters. The fact is that they did it, and for now, I don’t have a team to go to.”
“Does this mean you are done playing baseball?”
That idea hadn’t set in as a final fact just yet, and I paused for a moment before I answered her.
“I don’t think it does; not yet anyway,” I told Izzy. “We’ll just have to wait and see how things play out.”
Izzy still looked worried, and I was trying to take her mind off it. “For now, we get to spend some time together. You get to have me at home.” I smiled over at her, but I didn’t see the smile I had hoped for come right back to me.
“What’s the problem?” I asked as we turned towards our road.
“It’s not that I’m not happy you’re here Dad,” Izzy stated. “But I have my routine here of what I do at school and at home, and, well, having you here changes all that.”
“I’m sorry if I’m disrupting your schedule,” I said, feeling a little hurt.
“I knew you were going to take it the wrong way,” Izzy said with a huff, crossing her arms.
I drove the SUV passed my parent’s house and up the hill to our house.
“Where are you going?” Izzy asked me.
“I’m going to our house. It’s where we live,” I said, trying to exert some control of the situation. I pulled the SUV around the circular drive, so it was parked right in front of the front door.
“All the stuff I need is at Grandma and Grandpa’s,” Izzy told me.
“Like what?” I asked as I got out of the car.
“Stuff for school, my laptop, my speaker for my music, clothes I like to wear. It may surprise you to learn that I live THERE most of the year, remember?”
“Isabelle, don’t take that tone,” I gave her a stern look as I grabbed a few bags out of the trunk and started walking up the stone steps to the house. I searched around in my pockets for my keys before I realized I didn’t have a key to the house with me. I always left them with my parents when I left for spring training, and they were still down there. I turned and saw Izzy standing next to the SUV with a defiant smirk on her face.
“See, you don’t even have keys to your own house!” she screamed. She grabbed her backpack off the front seat of the car and stormed down the hill towards my parents’ house. I picked the bags I had taken to the door and hurtled them into the trunk, slamming it closed loudly. I saw Izzy flinch as she heard the slam and she looked back at me, surprised I could get that angry. I marched down the hill to catch up to her, but she kept moving faster so I couldn’t quite get to where she was. As we got to my parents’ house, she started in a full run and ran up the porch steps and inside. I followed right after her, but she was already inside, and I heard her slam the door to her bedroom. Mom and Dad both came into the living room to see me standing there.
“What was all that?” my father said to me.
“Izzy,” I said, catching my breath. “You can see she’s thrilled to have me home.”
“I’ll talk to her,” my mother said as she walked slowly down the hall towards Izzy’s room. I sat down on the couch, and my Dad sat in his recliner to my right.
“I take it you caught her off guard,” Dad said to me as he popped the recliner back a bit.
“Everything seemed to be okay until I told her I was going to be home for a bit, and then she freaked out, saying I was disrupting her routine.” I shook my head in disbelief as I looked at my father.
“Well, you are disrupting her routine Wes.”
“Thanks for the support Dad.”
“Look at her from her view,” Dad said to me. “Eight years ago, her life gets thrown into turmoil, and she starts living with us for most of the year. She loves the time she gets to spend with you, but for all intents and purposes, she lives here… this is what she knows. She gets home from school, does her homework, does chores, spends time with her friends, goes out and does things… all the things a teenager is supposed to do. Having you around means changing all that again.”
I sat back on the couch and looked at my father. I knew he was right as much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself.
“So, what I am supposed to do, Dad? Just let her stay down here while I’m in the house by myself?”
“I’m sure we can work something out,” he said confidently. “Besides, you don’t know how long you’re going to be here. It could be a day, a week, a few weeks, who knows? Why cause upheaval today only to do it again right away?”
“I guess you’re right,” I said, admitting defeat. “I guess I was just hoping Izzy would be happier I was here.”
“I’m sure she is happy you’re here, but the initial shock of it all might take away from that. Give her some time.”
My mother came walking down the hall, Izzy following close behind, her eyes a little puffy from crying. She still scowled at me a bit. My mother looked back at her, arched an eyebrow at Izzy, and Izzy came over to the couch and sat next to me.
“Izzy, I’m sorry,” I told her. “I know you have your life established here, and I don’t want to cause a problem, so how about we work something out where you can spend time down here and then, if I am still here after a few days, you come up to the house and stay with me? Is that fair?”
Izzy looked at me and sniffled. “Okay,” she said quietly and leaned over against me. I put my arm around her, feeling better we had worked things out.
“Isabelle,” my mother chimed in, “don’t you have something to say to your father?”
She looked over at my mother and then at me. “I’m sorry for yelling, Dad.”
“It’s okay,” I said, pulling her to me. “I guess we’re all going to need some to adjust and get back into the swing of things.”
“You looked like you were getting into the swing of things the way you were flirting with the librarian,” Izzy said with a teenage giggle.
I looked at her quickly. “What are you talking about? I wasn’t flirting.”
“Oh please Dad,” Izzy said, rolling her eyes. “The two of you were making goo-goo eyes at each other. Anyone could see it.”
“What happened?” my mother asked, sitting in her lounge chair, taking a greater interest in the conversation than before.
“When I walked into the library, Dad was there talking to Ms. Arthur, the new librarian. They were, you know, flirting.”
“How do you know what flirting is?” I asked Izzy.
“Dad, come on,” she said to me, aghast that I couldn’t believe she would know what flirting is. “I’m fifteen, Dad, not seven. I see flirting on TV, in movies, in books. Boys flirt with me all the time.” She quickly put her hand to her mouth, wishing she could take back that last part.
“What boys?” I asked, feeling my paternal protection kick in.
“Just boys at school Dad, it’s nothing.”
“Let’s get back to you flirting with the librarian,” my mother said to me.
Izzy took the opening and got up off the couch. “I’m going to do my homework!” she yelled and tore off down the hall.
I looked at my father, and then my mother, and back to my father again. They were both looking at me, waiting for an answer.
“So?” my mother said to me.
“I was just talking to her Mom,” I said in my defense. “I would hardly call it flirting.”
“Is she pretty?” my mother asked.
“Oh yes,” I replied, and heard my Dad reply at the same time. Mom shot him a look.
“Well, she is,” my father said, fidgeting in his chair.
“When did you see her?” my mother said, turning the heat up on Dad instead of me.
“I met some of the boys down at Harding’s Diner for breakfast one morning, and she walked by on her way to the library. Clyde Stuart was talking all about her the whole time. She seems like a very pretty girl. Everyone in town says she’s been great for the community.”
Mom sat there silently for a moment, and then seemingly satisfied with Dad’s answer, turned back to me.
“Wes, it’s none of my business what you do with your personal life,” Mom started. I already knew where the conversation was headed. “But, it’s been a long time since you have seen anyone or gone on a date, and if Izzy noticed a little “something” between you, then maybe it’s worth exploring.”
“Mom,” I answered, “she looks like she’s not much older than Izzy.”
“She’s twenty-two,” Dad interjected. Mom gave him another glare. “That’s what Clyde said, I swear,” Dad said, putting his hand over his heart.
“All I’m saying is if you’re going to be around town for a little bit that you might want to see what’s out there for you. You don’t want to be alone, Wes.”
Mom was right; I didn’t want to be alone. Kristin Arthur was an incredibly attractive woman, and I did sense there was some chemistry between us during our brief conversation. Honestly, I knew I was flirting with her, even though it was a lame attempt at it. But, she didn’t shoot me down, which was a good thing.
“I’ll certainly give it some thought, okay?” I said, hoping this would appease my parents.
“Thank you,” Mom told me. “Now, what are we having for dinner tonight? I’m hungry!”
I looked over at Dad to see if he had an answer, but he just looked back at me.
“Don’t look at me,” I told him. “I might have a bottle of ketchup at the house, and that’s it.”
“I guess we’re taking a ride down to Wally’s,” Dad said, referring to the local supermarket. He got up from the recliner and looked at me.
“We’ll be back with dinner,” I said as I got off the couch and followed Dad to the front door.
“Stay out of trouble, you two,” Mom said with a smile. “And Wyatt?” Mom said to Dad. Dad turned to look at her.
“You stay away from Clyde Stuart,” she offered.
Dad blew her a kiss as he walked rapidly out the door with me.