Heavy Hitter (Triple Play Series Book 1) Page 4

  Foster took the utensil out of my hand and gave us his back as he began stirring whatever was in the pot. “My new roommate.”

  I watched my grandma’s reaction, her eyes widening and then settling on her grandson. “Why am I just hearing about this?”

  “Didn’t think it was that important. Besides, if it didn’t work out, and he moves out soon after moving in, no harm, no foul, and no need to explain why they are gone.” He attempted nonchalance.

  That was true, but it wasn’t like Foster had a rotating door of failed roommate attempts. Not like he did with women in his bedroom.

  “It’s not that big a deal.”

  “When did he move in?” She smoothed down the front of her apron.

  “About two weeks ago.”

  “Who moved in?” Uncle Dodger walked in and went straight to the fridge. He was rustling around for a snack. She frowned and went to shut the door while he was still halfway inside.

  “We are about to eat.”

  My uncle gave her a sheepish grin. “Not soon enough, Mom. I’m starving.”

  I turned to give Foster a look. He hadn’t bothered to tell his parents either? My afternoon was getting better and better.

  He cleared his throat and tried to reply as casually as he could. “My new roommate.”

  His dad leaned back against the counter. “Someone’s living with you?”

  Foster shrugged. “Yeah.”

  Others in the family filed in. Aunt Macie was first, followed by my cousin Tristan. Aunt Annabelle and Hadley right behind them. I didn’t know where my uncles were or my other two cousins. I wasn’t lying when I said I had a large family.

  “What’s going on?” Macie asked as she picked up a carrot from a veggie tray on the island counter. Dodger spotted it and went to pick off it too. “I feel like I’m missing something.” The crunch of her carrot was about the only sound aside from the faint noise of the TV in the den.

  “Seems our son found a roommate. Whoever he is has been there for a couple of weeks.”

  “Wait, wait … I’ve missed the middle part of this conversation. A roommate, and he’s living with you already? Why are we just now hearing about this?” Concern etched her voice.

  Foster rolled his eyes. “Because, Mom, I didn’t want you asking a bunch of questions I’m not comfortable asking him yet. And knowing you, you’ll want to know everything.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Grandma chimed in.

  She put her hands on her hips and cocked one side out. “Of course, I want to know. You’re my baby.”

  “Oh Jesus, here we go again.”

  She took a step forward and started wagging her finger at him. My aunt was sassier than anyone else in this family, so when she stepped out of that role and into her mom role, it almost made me laugh. “You wait one minute. I am your mother, and I have every right to ask you whatever I feel is appropriate.”

  Foster half grinned. “I’m not dating him, Mom. And before that question is asked too, no, I’m not dating anyone, so don’t go there.” Macie opened and closed her mouth. She’d been waiting for him to bring home a nice girl, but she was going to be waiting a long time if she knew what I did. “I had a few calls for the room, and this one was the best fit. He has a job, and he is capable of paying his portion of the bills. Frankly, I’m relieved I won’t have to cover it all anymore. I make enough at the gym, but I don’t have any extra to save. I don’t want to rent for the rest of my life, you know?”

  Her expression softened, and Dodger came to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders in a gesture of support. “Good enough for me. What do we know about him?”

  Foster glanced at me. Poor guy was going to be stuck repeating himself for a while. He told them what he had said to me earlier today. They didn’t seem as shocked that Crew worked as a mechanic as I had been. Guess stereotyping didn’t run in the family. In fact, they seemed more accepting of it all than I had been when he spilled the news to me. The Asshole Flag was solely flown by me apparently.

  “Well honey, if you are good, then I’m happy. But I would like to meet him. Maybe you can bring him by the house sometime?”

  “Or here to dinner. With Chase and Tristan being out of town for that school trip to New York in a couple of weeks and Paul being down, we could use an extra on the field. We are one shy of a team,” Hadley chimed in excitedly.

  She was referring to our usual family baseball games. Technically, we could still play, but it wouldn’t be as fun with less people. My younger cousins had school functions, and my grandfather, Paul, had an accident that required surgery. He would be out of the game for quite a while.

  I was about to say something when Foster chuckled. “Didn’t I just say I wasn’t dating him? Bring him by to meet the family? Come on, Mom. If you guys want to meet him, you can stop by the apartment anytime. You know you all are welcome at my place.”

  “Your grandpa would probably like to have him over. He can’t get out that much right now. You know this,” Grandma chided.

  Foster had the decency to look down at the ground, slightly ashamed. “Sorry, Grams. How about I bring him here next weekend if he wants to. I’ll ask, but I’m not going to drag him here if he doesn’t want to come.”

  She nodded. My grandpa was outside working in the garage a few weeks ago when he fell and broke his hip. I was devastated. Growing up, I never gave much thought to my grandparents’ actual ages, and that they were simply getting too old to do some things. I think Grandpa was in denial as well, hence why he was tinkering around with his tools and lifted something a bit too heavy. He had surgery shortly after it happened and had been stuck in the house healing. Grandma doted on him. If she wasn’t, I would be here every day doing it myself. I hated seeing him immobile, but I didn’t want to lose my grandparents, let alone him. He was one of my very favorite people.

  Her smile of approval was all that was needed. “Well, late lunch is served.”

  All the ladies, including myself, took a casserole out of the oven, soup off the stove, and condiments from the fridge. The smell permeating through the air was pure heaven. If my grandma was ever pitted against chefs from The Food Network, she would give them a run for their money. Being that this wasn’t our usual dinner, we all casually stood around in the kitchen with our plates and bowls of soup instead of making our way to the dining room.

  “So Tristan, how is Mariah doing? You haven’t brought her around lately,” Hadley asked my youngest cousin.

  He was a senior in high school along with Chase, her son. We always referred to them as the twins because they were only a few months apart and more attached to each other than Foster and I were. It wasn’t surprising or strange to us, though. Considering how close all of us were to begin with, and then how they often wound up in the same classrooms and sharing teachers and friends, it was no wonder they had a close bond.

  Tristan was busy serving himself seconds, or was it thirds? “I don’t know. We broke up. She decided she was more interested in Mauriceville’s quarterback than she was in me.”

  Macie rolled her eyes, and Grandma gasped. “Well, that wasn’t very nice now, was it?”

  He looked like he couldn’t care less. “I didn’t really like her anyway. The only things she cared about were makeup, the cheerleading squad, and filters for her selfies. She was shallow.”

  Foster chuckled. “Bro, you’re shallow. The only reason you were with her was her rack and using her pool whenever you wanted.”

  Tristan grinned. “She had the nicest set.” He gestured with his hands, making cups in front of his chest. “But I’ll for sure miss that pool.”

  Dodger tried to hide his laughter while Macie glared at him. “Boys! I swear, I don’t know who raised you, but that’s not how you talk about women. I’m never going to see them get married.” She sighed, speaking more to herself.

  Foster put his hands up around his throat. “Marriage …?” He gurgled. “Oh god, I can’t breathe. Marriage … the word, it
’s choking me.”

  Grandma shook her head, her sweet as honey Southern voice mocking the boys. “I can’t keep up with y’all and your back and forth relationships. Why so many breakups?” When none of them answered, she said, “Maybe you should consider that it’s not them.” She gave each of my cousins a hard stare.

  I giggled. That was what they got for not focusing on the important things and placing priorities where they didn’t need to be right now. Chase and Tristan were too damn young to be fooling around with girls. If they spent half the time concentrating on their studies as they do screwing the hottest senior girls, they wouldn’t be getting this epic lecture. Foster was a totally different realm. I couldn’t include him in this conversation.

  “It’s not us,” Tristan retorted. “It’s social media.”

  Grandma rolled her eyes. “Don’t blame that darn phone of yours. You have a head between your shoulders. Use it.”

  “It’s not the right head he’s thinking with,” one of the boys mumbled.

  “Boys!” Grandma chastised.

  Hadley laughed. “Donna is right. You boys are the ones clicking on the next best picture. It’s like you’re window-shopping. And let me tell you something, looks will fade. These girls might be pretty now, but with all that sun and heavy makeup, they will look older than a prune by the time they are fifty.”

  “Who’s window-shopping?” Foster defended. “I can’t help it if they only want me for my body.”

  I barked out a laugh. That was his typical answer. “Give me a break. You and your body cozy up to just about every blonde on campus.”

  “Touché,” Dodger commended.

  Seems it was not news to his dad. Hell, I was sure my uncle had his fair share of women before Macie came along. Growing up, I’d heard enough about how the Brooks men were the most eligible bachelors around, and when they were all snatched up, women from counties away could be heard weeping. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that dramatic, but I knew all the stories. Even my teachers in high school would mention how Foster was a typical Brooks male when he would get the girls all riled up. I’d cringe, knowing one of those referenced was my father.

  Foster jerked his head back. “Careful, Ashton. I believe we just talked about my new roommate. Don’t blush too hard when he’s around.”

  I glared at him. All eyes shot to me, and I could feel my dad’s especially burning a hole in my side. “I fell asleep by the pool and got too much sun. That’s it.”

  Foster gave me a knowing grin. “Oh, is that what this is?” He tapped the sensitive skin below my eye.

  I stepped back out of his reach. “Oh honey, you’ve got to stop napping outside. That much sun is horrible for you,” my mom commented.

  Dad chimed in. “Ashton isn’t after any kind of mechanic.” Funny because a few minutes ago, he was echoing the same sentiments as everyone else. “School is the focus. College is what’s going to get her places.”

  The way he said mechanic was with bitterness and held an air of pettiness as though someone in that line of work was below him and especially me. I was ashamed to have even felt that way because I didn’t look at anyone like they were less than I was. But my dad held no shame where I was concerned.

  My cousin took a big ole bite of his casserole and had a smugness I wanted to slap clean off his face. “Could’ve fooled me.”

  “Don’t be an ass,” I growled.

  “Ashton.” Grandma tried to gently remind me of her no cursing rule.

  Macie stepped in. “Okay, can we just eat this amazing lunch and talk about more important things besides who my son may be fooling around with, Ashton’s sunburn, or stupid Instagram?”

  “Yes, please,” I seconded.

  We continued to chow down on my grandma’s delicious food and chat about things like the gym, sports, and how school was going for all the grandkids. I stewed on what Foster had said and planned to give him an earful when we were no longer in my grandparents’ presence. I wasn’t sure I could keep the tongue-lashing free of curse words.

  Afterward, we all moved into the den to hang out with my grandpa when he woke up from a short nap. My grandma offered to make him a plate of food, but he said he was fine. The boys wanted to go toss a ball around, but nobody else was interested if Gramps couldn’t at least come out and watch. I enjoyed seeing my grandma tenderly touching his side in a manner that I didn’t even think she realized she was doing. I loved their love. I could only pray to find the kind of happiness and devotion that the two of them had for each other someday. Even my own parents were the mushy type. They exchanged looks and sidelong smiles as if they were in on some secret that nobody else was privy to. Sure, it was obnoxious to see, but it was still adorable.

  As I sat across the room from them observing their behavior, I found myself wondering when it would be my time. When do you open yourself up to something like that? One that without a doubt could destroy you heart and soul because you’d placed your very being on a platter for someone else to consume. Sure, my parents and grandparents were still very much their own people, but your partner shaped you. Was I really going to go through my entire college years without a single relationship? What about a casual fling?

  At that very moment, when Crew came to mind, I didn’t want to entertain why. Instead, I shut my eyes and tried to shove away the dull ache beginning to form between my eyes.

  “You good, Ash?” my mom asked from across the room.

  My lashes fluttered open, and I saw her and everyone else glance at me. “I’m good. I think I’m just a bit exhausted from all the food and sun I’ve had today.”

  She gave me a small smile. “Why don’t you go home, take a bath, and I’ll bring you some ice cream later.”

  I was so fortunate. The love and concern she expressed was more than some got, and I knew I had it good. I knew this based on things I’d heard and seen since graduating high school. Most just shoved their kids out the door so they could reclaim their lives, take those vacations without the extra plane tickets to purchase, and go on those dates without sitters or worry about parties in their homes.

  I got up from the arm of the sofa and walked to my grandparents. Leaning down, I kissed both of them on the cheek and thanked them for the food. Grandma squeezed my hand when I told her I’d be here next week to see how things were going. When I told everyone else bye, Foster called out that he would text me later, but I ignored him. He was in the doghouse for being such a jerk earlier, and I was certain he was going to try to make up for it. I was out the door and driving home before he or anyone else could stop me and say anything else.

  My tub and a bath bomb were calling my name.

  Crew

  GOD, COULD IT BE ANY hotter out here? Why the fuck did my uncle insist on working with the garage doors open in the middle of September in the South? Sweat was currently trickling down my back and into my ass crack, and I felt disgusting. Being covered in grease and dirt didn’t help matters. I sneered and looked down at my hands. Under my nails was stained black, and my fingerprints were smattered with brown. No matter how hard I scrubbed, what I used, or if I removed several layers of skin, it wasn’t coming off.

  “It’s not break time, Crew. Get back to work.” My uncle had stepped out of the office upstairs to yell down at me.

  Stupid bastard. If I could sock him in the face just once, I think I might feel a little better.

  “I’m going to close the doors,” I called up.

  “The hell you are. It’s a nice day out. Keep them open.”

  I took a deep breath in through my nose and held it for a moment. Exhaling slowly, I tried to contain my frustration. “Mac, it’s too hot. When it’s this hot, we work slower. If you want the cars to move, you’ve got to let us do this shit in a comfortable environment.”

  I was looking up at him and caught the narrowing of his eyes. “It is comfortable. The fresh air will do you good, boy.”

  “Says the man in an air-conditioned office.”

  My uncle gra
bbed the iron railing with a tight grip and leaned forward. “I worked for twenty-five years in this garage in every type of weather. You don’t know what hot is.”

  I mimicked his exact words in my head because I’d heard them before. It was his usual spiel that he gave me whenever he had the chance. If you ever had one of those grandparents who felt the need to say “I walked a mile to school every day, and sometimes in the snow. We didn’t always have snow boots either,” it was the same thing. He did it to annoy me and to remind me of my place here. I was fed up with it before I’d even stepped foot in this garage to work.

  I stared up at him as he glared down at me in a silent battle of the wills. I’d come to this shop because he needed the help. Technically, I needed the help. I was unsure about which direction I was going, but this wasn’t a paved road for me. More like a gravel one I veered toward while figured out where I needed to be in life. I picked it because it was sitting right in front of me when I was looking for something.

  He gave me a scathing smile and went back into his office as if he’d won. My shoulders sagged, and I picked up my wrench. I wanted to knock that smug expression right off his face. I was a fighter, and he knew I was. Every single day I spent here—no, every hour—I wondered if my sanity was going to snap in half. I was told dreams were found here.

  More like nightmares covered in grease.

  Walking back to the car I was working on, I climbed down into the pit that was easily hovering around ninety-degrees and sat down on a small stool. I let my head hang between my shoulders and accepted the heat that washed over me.

  I didn’t know how much longer I’d tolerate my dear uncle. Where he got off being an asshole to anything that breathed in his direction, I didn’t know nor did I care. When I showed up here, I didn’t have any preconceived notions about how hard it would be to work under him. He was my dad’s little brother, and they weren’t very close. They had been when they were kids, but I was told once that Mac had been in love with my mom. When my parents laid eyes on each other, they became inseparable, and Mac said my dad stole her from him. It changed the dynamic of their relationship, effectively putting a permanent chip on Mac’s shoulder. He likely was holding a grudge against me since I was the product of my parents being together.