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“Legally speaking, it’d probably be better if I signed a new employment contract.”
“Good idea.” His eyes sparkle. “I’ll find a pen.”
34
CARLEE
“Stop chewing your nails,Carlee. You’ll damage your nail bed.”
I pull my fingers from my mouth and fist my hands in my lap. Mom nods approvingly and then faces forward to continue watching the game.
It’s game six in the World Series, and the entire tournament has been a nail-biter.Literally.
Me, my family, and Morgan are seated behind the visitor’s dugout in the Minnesota Loons stadium. The fall weather is much colder than what we’re used to in Texas. We’re sharing three fleece blankets we purchased from the boutique store in the Warehouse District just outside the ballpark. I bet I’d be warmer if I were working the field, snapping candid shots of the guys during the game, but Claudia graciously offered to cover the event so I could sit in the stands and enjoy the game with my family.
I was surprised when I walked into Lonestars’ headquarters just a few weeks after Corey strong-armed Charles Wilson into giving me my job back and saw the intern sitting in her old cubicle. Only, she was no longer an intern.
I’d say good for Mr. Wilson for righting his wrong and rehiring the talented young woman, but I suspect it was done to avoid litigation, not from the good of his heart.
“What do you mean Aunt Carlee will damage her nail bed?” Abby, my niece, asks. She sits on the other side of her grandmother, next to her twin brother. “Does her bed have nails?”
“No, dear,” Mom answers the six-year-old. “I’m talking about her fingernails. It’s not good to chew your nails. It can hurt them.”
“Oh.” Abby tilts her head to the side. “Daddy bites his nails, too.”
“Hey, don’t rat me out to my mom, Squirt.” Carter leans forward from the row behind his children and ruffles Abby’s curly brown hair.
“You say family doesn’t keep secrets!” Andy joins in the conversation.
My dad chuckles from where he sits next to his grandson. He and his wife create a grandparent sandwich on either side of their grandkids.
“That’s true,” Carter says. “But Grandmom and Granddad like to give your dad a hard time. So we should keep our family business between ourselves, yeah?”
“Carter Patrick Jones,” Mom chastises. “Don’t you dare teach your children to hide things from us.”
“Sorry,” Carter quickly apologizes and leans back in his seat to avoid further reprimand from our mother. His eyes dart to his left before quickly facing forward. I see the twins’ nanny, Valerie, press her lips together to hold back a laugh—a twinkle in her sea-green eyes.
I don’t know much about the young woman other than her father is the defensive coordinator for the Rough Riders and thatshe used to be an accountant. Oh, and she’s the first nanny who’s managed to stick around for more than two weeks.
Carter hired Valerie in the middle of summer, and she’s still here halfway through the football season, so things seem to be going well. And the twins like her. I should make an effort to get to know her better. I’ll have the time. Especially since the Lonestars season could be ending tonight.
The road to the playoffs had been messy and, at times, a real battle. But the young, motivated players rallied together and put on impressive performances, taking the team to the final tournament to play against the favored Minnesota Loons.
I worried how Corey would handle playing against his former teammates—many of whom hadn’t refrained from sharing crappy anecdotes about their former pitcher to the press in the days leading up to game one. I feared Corey would either shut down or release his resentment in a different unhealthy way.
But Corey proved his resilience by weathering their storm with strength and maturity. He didn’t let the noise get to him. After the Lonestars lost the first two games, he stepped up and helped motivate the guys into believing they could do this. They can win the championship. The result was the Lonestars went on a three-game winning streak. If they win tonight, they win the World Series.
It's crazy to think how far the team has come in one season, but there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind, they couldn’t have done it without Corey.
Pride warms my chest as I watch my boyfriend approach home plate for his turn at bat. He laughs at something Joshua says when the first baseman walks by after striking out, waving his bat around like he’s threatening to knock him with it.
Corey has found a home with the Lonestars. He’s happy, and he’s the man I always knew he could be.
Our relationship is near perfect. We still have our squabbles, the most recent one being the fact I agreed to work with Augie Olsen’s family on promoting their Christmas Tree Farm again this year. I had to remind Corey thatheis the one I’m with. He has no reason to be jealous of Augie.
That perceived insult earned me a particularly grouchy boyfriend for the night, but his mood improved after I dragged him into the shower and showed him just how sorry I was for my insensitive joke.
Corey lets the first pitch fly over the plate. The umpire calls a strike. It takes everything I have not to bite my nails again. Corey, however, looks calm as ever. He’s been this way all season, but his serene attitude really became noticeable after his father passed a month ago.
