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That just put things into perspective for Duke. He knew he was going to have to leave. The main reason Macy didn’t want to get too involved with him was because she thought he was going to have to leave. His date to renew his contract with the MET Network was looming. If he chose not to return to the news desk in DC, his agent might find a station in Florida for him. After being away for so long Duke had a hard time strumming up the desire to return after that lifestyle. He had plenty of money to stay in Tallahassee for a while, whether it was at WKSS or not. He had no reason to get back. “I might just not leave.”
Judging from the surprised look on Pablo’s face, the news was unexpected. “Are you serious?”
Casually, Duke tossed his head back to laugh, with full intent to spy on Macy through the sliding glass door. She was facing him, but seated on the coffee table, playing with the baby and talking to Monique. Occasionally she would look up, tuck her hair behind her ear and smile in his direction. Every fiber of his being was on fire. He doubted he’d have a moment alone with her right now, but all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and kiss her again. He appreciated how she made sure at her own birthday party that everyone was welcomed into her home, how she treated them like family. It was something his mother used to do—very warm and inviting.
“I’m serious as a heart attack.”
“This is great for the station! I can rearrange things. Mo, of course, wants to come back, but I can figure out where to put you in the station. With your work in DC, you could handle the politics in Tallahassee with ease.”
Before Duke could tell Pablo to hold off on etching his name onto an office door, Wellinson came over with MJ. Wellie gave Duke a high five. The boy was getting tall for eight years old. Wellie was his partner in crime. Back when he was a baby, Duke used to take him to the park, and the boy had become a babe magnet, not that Duke needed it.
Now he stood there right beside Duke, both of them waiting for Pablo to look the other way. They had their chance when Pablo lifted the grill to flip a few burgers. Duke slipped Wellie a ten-dollar bill. It had been his tradition to slip the kids some money on the side.
“Wellie says you played baseball,” MJ said, tugging at the hem of Duke’s shirt. “He said you were a shortstop like me.”
“That’s right, I was,” Duke answered with a grin. Now was his chance to win over the boy for whom he’d spoiled Christmas. “Do you want to play a bit?”
Enthusiastically MJ nodded his dark head. “Can we?”
“Can we what?” the boy’s father asked, opening the screen door with a tray full of raw meat.
“Play baseball,” Wellie and MJ chorused.
“Sure, why not? We have a few minutes before the food is all done,” Mario said. “I call Duke’s team!”
The sun had begun to set by the time the game was over. The food had been ready for a while, and tables covered in red-and-white checkered cloths were set up out back to accommodate all the guests who had arrived. Hamburgers, ribs, fish, potato salad—everything imaginable at a summer picnic was available for this late-November birthday feast. The pièce de résistance was the three-foot-tall birthday cake with candles on top. He stood next to Macy as she pulled her hair back and blew out the candles. Her face was bright red with embarrassment as everyone sang “Happy Birthday” to her. He liked that about her.
After several pieces of the chocolate cake, Duke found himself full. He collapsed in a cushiony lounge chair in the corner of the porch. Monique and Pablo had to leave to get the kids home and in bed for school in the morning. A few other neighbors and friends left, as well. MJ sat at Duke’s side, still going on about the things he’d learned. Macy had gone up front to say goodbye to the rest of her guests.
“Thanks for teaching me all that stuff today,” MJ said.
“Oh, no problem—anything for you.” And it was the truth. Duke easily took a shining to the boy.
“Are you being extra nice because you outed Santa?”
“W-what?” The question obviously caught him off guard. Duke jumped to his feet.
No one told him that MJ was precocious. He sat there, grinning devilishly. “It’s okay. My mom freaked out about it, but I already knew Santa wasn’t real. I’ve known since I was a kid.”
“You did?” Unfamiliar with this territory, Duke scratched the back of his head. “But your mom...”
“She loves Santa. I’ve just been pretending to believe in him, but I already know she’s the one who puts the presents under the tree.”
Duke cleared his throat. Where is Macy? Or where was Mario, for that matter? “Well, you see...”
“It’s okay—” MJ stood up and patted Duke on the arm “—I’m going to tell my mom next year I know.” Then he held out his little hand. “Let’s just keep that our little secret.”
Not knowing what else to say or do to that, Duke extended his hand and shook MJ’s. He wouldn’t say anything to Macy yet about him knowing about Christmas. Who knew? MJ might get a big surprise this year.
“Now that looks like a nice picture,” Mario said, coming out the back sliding glass door. “MJ, I’m about to go. Walk me out?”
“Sure.” MJ turned his head up at Duke and winked. “Thanks again.”
Mario stepped forward and also extended his hand, just as his son had a few minutes ago. “Duke, it was a pleasure to meet you and play a game of baseball.”
There was still the strong pressure in Mario’s hand—dominance. Duke squeezed back hard, as well. “No problem. You should have been in the pros. You certainly have the arm for it.”
Letting go of his hand, Mario flexed his throwing arm. “Sure, I had the arm for it, not the discipline. But thanks for the compliment. And I’ll see you at the Ugly Sweater Party, right?”
