Chapter Twenty-Three
Mallory withdrew by the time I left on Wednesday afternoon. We’d barely seen each other since the near disaster at O’Malley’s. Whether she was withdrawing from me because of regret or if there was something else going on in her head, I didn’t know. It would only be a few days until I came back to Madison and picked her up, but it felt like an eternity.
To make matters worse, I drove Trish home. Two hours in the car with her was enough to make me want to drive off a cliff. If only we had cliffs in Iowa.
Trish turned off the radio ten minutes after we hit the highway.
“Never touch a man’s radio,” I said, reaching to turn it back to a normal, block-Trish’s-voice-out level.
“Please, just let me…” Trish growled in frustration. I almost smiled. She’d always make that noise whenever she didn’t know what to say. “Dammit, Aaron.”
“Why is it always ‘dammit, Aaron’ with you? Jesus, Trish, in the years we were together, everything was always my fault. Hell, you even blamed me for the breakup. Take some responsibility for a fucking change.” See? I have grown some ginormous balls. As much as I wanted to verbalize that thought, I kept my mouth shut. No point in poking a sleeping bear.
Trish huffed and crossed her arms. Her heated breath fogged the passenger window. I turned up the radio and let Hank drown out the sound of her irritation.
It took one song before she turned it off. “I’m sorry, okay?”
That almost sent me off the road.
“I’m sorry for blaming you for everything. I’m sorry for treating you like shit. I’m sorry for calling you boring—”
“Are you sorry for cheating on me?” I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. Her mouth slacked open. “Don’t try to deny it. Chelsea saw you.”
She slapped her mouth shut and faced the window again. “I’m sorry for that, too.”
I didn’t turn on the radio again, half expecting her to start the conversation over. It took until I pulled into her driveway for her to say what was really on her mind.
“I do love you, Aaron.” She squeezed the handle of the door, but she didn’t open it. “I wish I could take back everything that’s happened between us over the last few months.”
I turned to face her and hated seeing her hurting, but she caused it. And, as much as I wanted to hate Trish, I didn’t have it in me anymore. My father raised me to be a gentleman, and I hadn’t been much of one lately. “Look, Trish, I’m not going to lie and say it didn’t tear me up, but you were right.” She started to interrupt, and I held up my hand. “We weren’t working anymore. I just didn’t see it, and you did.”
“Does she make you happy?” Tears slid down her cheeks as she tried to smile.
I took her hand and squeezed. “Over the moon.”
“I’m glad. You deserve to be happy.”
“So do you.” I touched her shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t live your life by what your parents want for you.”
We stared at each other, years passing between us. Trish leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Good-bye, Aaron.”
She hopped out of the truck and gathered her bags from the bed before I could open my door to help. Not once did she look back toward me. Not even when she closed the door behind her.
When I parked my truck in our circular drive twenty minutes later, my phone vibrated in my pocket. The light snow gathered on the grass, glistening as the sun peeked through the clouds. I loved Christmas. I pulled the phone out and stared at the message.
You should be home by now. I’m sorry. Mallory’s words were a comfort and a torture. She shouldn’t be sorry for anything.
I just got here. Haven’t even gotten out of the truck yet. Why are you sorry?
The phone danced in my hand, and I swiped to answer before it could actually ring.
“Hey,” I whispered to keep the nerves out of my voice. Mallory sniffled on the other end, and I sat up. “Talk to me.”
Silence filled the line, but I didn’t let that deter my patience. A loud rap on the driver’s side window scared the bejeesus out of me. I glanced up to see my little sister blowing air onto the window and drawing smiley faces in the fog. This was getting to be a bad habit of hers. At least her hair wasn’t blue. I shook my head and pointed at the phone while I waited for Mallory to say something, anything.
“You still there?”
“Christmas is…and it…I’m nervous.” She sniffle-laughed louder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to think…I… This is hard.”
When I realized she wasn’t going to keep going, I said as gently as possible, “It’s okay. I know you’re going through things. Just talk to me when you can, okay?”
“Okay.” She sniffled then let out a long sigh. “You need to get inside. I’m sure your sister’s waiting for you.”
Something about the way she said “sister” made me cringe. I opted to ignore it. Mallory’s relationship with her brother had been tough before he died. “Well, Chelsea is dancing around in front of my truck at the moment. She looks like a monkey on speed.”
Mallory laughed.
“Can I call you later?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
We hung up, and I opened my door. Before my foot hit the gravel, Chelsea had her arms wrapped around my neck. I hugged her back and set her on her feet.
“Was that her?” Chelsea grinned like a dog that had stolen a steak off the grill.
I tweaked her nose. “None of your business, little girl. Where’re the parents?”
“Mom’s knee-deep in piecrust, and Dad’s delivering a new tractor to the Fergusons as a surprise.” Chelsea snorted as we started toward the house. “Old man Ferg will probably have a heart attack when he sees it. He’s been driving that Deutch Allis for longer than we’ve been alive.”
It always struck me how much Chelsea knew about the business. Far more than I ever had, and here I was planning on taking it over once my playing days were done. Maybe I was the wrong Betts for the job. We climbed onto the porch, and I stopped before opening the door.
“Chels, can I ask you a question without a sarcastic response?” I dropped my hand from the doorknob and turned to face her. “Do you think I’m cut out to run the business?”
Her eyes widened so much she took a step back. “Why wouldn’t you be?”
I shrugged.
“Seriously, Aaron. Where’d this come from?”
“I don’t know. Really. It just sort of popped into my head.” I sat on the swing, the cold wood quickly chilling my ass. Chelsea sat beside me.
“You’ve always known you’re going to take over when Dad retires. What changed?” She pushed against the railing, setting the swing in motion.
My breath froze in front of me. I loved winter. The chill in the air, a fire in the hearth, and a peace in our existence. My thoughts flicked to Mallory, but this really started before I met her. It started when Trish dumped me. “Me, I guess. I mean, when Trish and I broke up, I started questioning everything.”
“Ah,” she said with knowledge I clearly didn’t possess.
“Ah what?”
“You know Dad doesn’t expect you to take over the minute your baseball career is over, right?” Chelsea pushed off the railing again to keep the swing moving steady.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“What do you want?”
A small laugh escaped my lips, and I shrugged again. “I wish I knew.”
Chelsea draped her arm over my shoulder. She didn’t say another word, just kept us swinging.
“Thought you were giving Trish a ride home.” Flour dotted my mother’s face and arms. I leaned in and kissed the one clean spot on her cheek. “Why didn’t you bring her on by?”
“Mom, Trish and I are over. Just because I let her sit in my truck for two hours doesn’t mean we’re going to make up, get engaged, and start planning our lives together.”
Mom actually snorted. “Sow your oats, Aaron. That’s what you Betts men do, but you’ll end up with Trish. Mark my words, that’s the girl for you, for this family. Not some city trash you feel the need to play with.”
“You don’t even know her,” I said, stunned by Mom’s hateful words.
“I don’t need to know her. I know her type. She finds a way to get in between a happy couple and tears them apart—”
“Mom, listen to yourself. I’ve told you Trish broke up with me. The night before I blew out my knee playing soccer, she told me it was over. It wasn’t until after I had knee surgery that I met Mallory. After, Mom.” My anger rose in my throat, and I swallowed to push it back down. “And she didn’t even let me kiss her until a few weeks ago. Does that sound like the kind of girl you described? No, because Mallory’s nothing like that. And you better be nice to her when she gets here.”
Mom didn’t say anything for a long time. She stayed quiet as her fingers curled into the dough. “If that’s how you feel—”
“That’s how it is.”
“I wish I knew what got into you,” she muttered. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I’m not Dad. Trish and I…we aren’t you guys. I know you want me to be happy. And, right now, I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. Stop trying to run our lives, Mom. Chelsea and I know what we want. And I’m sorry if it’s not what you want for us, but our dreams are our own.” I thought I’d go in for the kill shot. “And I’ll drive Chelsea to New York if that’s what it takes to get her there. Just so you know.”
“Leave your sister out of this.” Mom spun around and pointed at me. “She’s not going to New York. She can go to Westland like you, or Iowa State, but not New York.”
I shook my head and walked out of the kitchen. Dragging Chelsea into it was dirty play on my part. Dad had already told her he would send the check to secure her spot. Mom didn’t know yet, but it wasn’t my place to bring it up. I went up to my room, feeling for the first time in my life that I didn’t belong in this house anymore.
I was lost. Every day, I’d look around the farm or even the shop and not recognize anything. Nothing had changed. The trees hadn’t changed. The fields were plowed under for winter. The counter and garage hadn’t moved. In all of my twenty-one years, everything was the same as always. But it felt wrong.
Chelsea snuck into my room on the night before Christmas Eve with two sodas and a bowl of popcorn with M&M’s already mixed in. Our aunt had been pregnant with our little cousin when I was ten and Chels was six, and she craved microwave popcorn with M&M’s. It sounded disgusting, but it wasn’t. Chelsea and I made it a tradition. Whenever one of us was down in the dumps, the other would bring in a bowl of the concoction and we’d talk it out. We had one rule: no lies, no matter if the truth might hurt the other person.
“Spill,” Chelsea ordered. She tucked her legs under my comforter and set the dish between us.
“Everything’s different.” I dug into the bowl and shoved a handful of the mix into my mouth. The butter, salt, and chocolate tasted like a piece of heaven. I finished chewing and swallowed half the bottle of soda before going on. “I don’t know, sis. I just feel off for some reason.”
“Is it because of this girl?”
I wanted to get pissed, but it would break the rules. “No. I mean, she’s got a lot to do with some things, but not this.” I took another handful and slowly popped a piece at a time. “I know you hated Trish—”
“Oh, yeah.”
“—but I knew what was expected of me. I had a plan. Get drafted, go pro, marriage, family, World Series ring, retire, take over the business. I guess when she dumped me—”
“Thank God.”
“—everything started to unravel.” I glanced at her, but she wasn’t looking my way. Chelsea stared at the map of the world on my wall. “Then I met Mallory, and she turned my life upside down and sideways.”
A smile filled my sister’s face, and she pointed at the poster. “Remember when I’d get scared during the bad storms and hide in here with you? You used to tell me all the places we were going to go on that map.”
“Yeah, I remember. Why?” Those were some of my best memories. Chelsea and I would fight like any other brother and sister, but we were always there for each other when it mattered.
“Why can’t we?” She turned, an excitement lighting her face. “Who says we have to stay in Iowa? Aaron, you’re free from that image you’ve created about your future. That’s what’s changed. You don’t have that anchor anymore. Now you can have the life you want and not the one that’s been expected of you for so long. Let go of the fake dream and embrace the real one.”
I started to shake my head, then I realized she might be right. Maybe the reason everything felt different wasn’t because I was different but my image of the future was. I closed my eyes and pictured the future I’d daydreamed about for months. Me and Mallory on a beach. Me and Mallory at an art museum. In Paris. In London. Getting married. Mallory in the stands with our kids watching me rob a homer. Mallory grading papers in our dining room while I play with the kids. Me coaching a team somewhere. None of it included Betts Family Farm and Implement. It didn’t necessarily include Iowa. We could go anywhere.
Everything I really wanted included Mallory. Those words filled my mind. I knew I liked her. I knew I wanted to get to know everything about her. Fuck if I knew that I had already fallen in love with her. Admitting it to myself was like opening Al Capone’s safe. It left me empty. I’d held on to hope that she would love me back, that she would be the first to admit it and then I could allow myself to feel this way. But it was too late. I couldn’t stop it now that I’d said it in my head.
I loved her.
“What?” Chelsea cocked her head to the side.
“What?”
The smile that grew across her face was knowing and full of laughter. “I think you just said Mallory.”
“Yeah, I bet I did.” My cheeks warmed. Damn, when was the last time I blushed like a schoolgirl?
Chelsea shoved my arm. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“She’s terrified of you.” I threw a kernel at her head.
“Me? I’m the best in the Midwest.” She tossed a popcorn kernel back at me, smacking me square in the forehead. “But I’ll run interference with Mom. I do kinda owe you after you told her you’d drive me to New York.”
“You heard that, huh?”
“Yep. And that’s why you’re the best brother I could ever have.”
Chelsea left me with nothing but unpopped kernels and a realization. She’d given me the best Christmas present in the world.