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“What are you talking about?”
I take a deep, pained breath and close my eyes momentarily as I summon up the strength to tell this story. “There’s a reason I got sent away every year during summer league. Back when I was fourteen, Malcolm Darrius came to stay with us. I was infatuated with him. Not too many boys ever paid attention to me. Plus, Malcolm thought I was sweet.”
Dalton’s body becomes rigid. “Are you telling me an eighteen or twenty-year-old came on to you?”
“No! Nothing like that. Malcolm was nice to me. Dad warned me to stay away from the players. Told me never to talk to them, and I never did until Malcolm came and stayed with us.”
“What made him different?”
“He was a little rough around edges. He had tattoos and sported an attitude but was friendly to me. He never tried to make any moves, but I couldn’t stay away. I was enthralled.”
“Should I be worried that your fascination with me is just a carryover from this Malcolm dude?”
I playfully smack his arm. Dalton laughs but catches my hand and entwines his fingers with mine.
“Hardly. But you do enthrall me. More so even.”
“I take it your dad came unglued when he saw you talking?”
I hang my head and stare out at the waves. “I ruined that guy’s chances. He told me how badly he wanted this baseball career, his scholarship, and how he needed it all to work out. I felt sorry for him. He looked so sad talking about his parents. I thought he needed comfort. Whenever I got sad, Mom would always hug me. So I did what I thought would comfort him. I hugged him. And that’s when my dad walked outside and saw us.” I shiver from that memory. The yelling. Me trying to explain the innocence of it, and Malcolm pleading his case. I never felt so low in my entire life. Well, that’s not true, but it was close. “My dad made him leave. He never played baseball again and lost his future. I ruined that guy’s career all because I didn’t listen to my dad.” I turn to face Dalton with tear-streaked eyes. “I can’t be the reason you lose your baseball career.”
“How do you know he never played?”
“Dad told me. After taking Malcolm to the airport, he returned and said I cost that kid his career. He told me his contacts would take care of everything.”
“Jesus. You don’t believe that, do you?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because your dad probably said those things to scare you.”
“No, he wouldn’t lie to me. That’s what I was being punished for—breaking the rules and lying about it.”
“Sweetheart, think about. You don’t have a television, so you don’t have access to any sports stations. You don’t have the internet. You wouldn’t be able to search for him. Don’t you think it’s possible your dad lied so that you would leave the future guys alone?”
“I-I . . .” I’m stunned. I’ve carried that guilt around for years. Surely Dad wouldn’t lie and let his fourteen-old-daughter carry the burden of costing a guy his scholarship. Would he sink that low? “I suppose, but he knows a lot of people, including the president of the NCAA.”
“Let’s look up Malcolm Darrius and see what happened to him.”
I bite my lip as he types Malcolm’s name into the search bar. “What college did he attend?”
“Cessna U.”
His eyes flick to mine. “Interesting.” Then he resumes his search and smiles. Showing me his phone, he says, “See, this shows the dates Malcolm Darrius played on the Wildcats and the year he graduated. You didn’t cost him his scholarship at all.”
“Huh.” That makes me feel somewhat better, I guess. “But that means my dad lied to me.”
“According to his stats, he played his junior year for the Baytown Crushers and must’ve transferred to an amateur baseball league not sponsored by the NCAA.”
“What about the majors? Did he make it professionally?”
He shakes his head, and a part of me feels deflated. “I don’t think so. I can’t find any more stats.” He looks up, and he frowns at whatever’s on my face. He nudges his shoulder against mine. “My guess is he graduated and is working somewhere.”
“Thanks for trying to make me feel better.”
“Look at me.” Those dark soulful eyes peer down at me. “I know you’re worried about me, but if anything happens, it wouldn’t be your fault. I’m big enough to know what I’m doing. Any risk I take falls on me.”
“I know. I just . . .”Love you.“Don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
