Catching Tatum (24 page)

“Will you ever be over Stacy?”

“That's different. From what you've said he was a good boyfriend and tried everything to get her back and she still doesn't want him, but he still wants her.”

“I know, it's heartbreaking.”

“For you—what if she comes back?”

“I know.”

“Seriously,” he said, “think about it. What if she does? You and I both know he'll be gone. Is that when you'll be ready to commit to me?”

“Look at you talking about commitment. I just got over being mad at you, don't ruin the moment. Parker or not, I can't think about going further. I'm not ready to put my heart in your hands again.” The truth was I couldn't risk giving him more because of him and because of Parker. “I need time. Give me that.”

“I will, but I want you for myself. I don't want to share you with some other guy.”

“Exactly my point, Cole! I didn’t want to share you ... and at least he's honest about it. You hid it from me and lied to me. I believed you.”

“And that was in the past.”

“Yeah, but look what it took to change you.”

The look on his face was something I can't even put into words. He knew how bad he had been. He knew it shouldn't have taken Stacy's suicide to straighten him up.

“I know, I know. It didn't have to happen, but it did, and I'm different now because of it.”

“Look, don't hate me. I want to believe you; I really do. But I already did. I believed you every time you lied to me. You got caught by her, not me. I'm not her, and you haven't been in a real relationship since she died, right?”

“Yeah, because I can't do that to someone.”

“Yeah, but to me it kind of feels like you're afraid and I'm your guinea pig. I don't want to be. I want to be sure of you, or of Parker, or of any guy. I want to know for sure ...”

“What? That you're not going to get hurt again? But that's not how love works.”

“Look at you talking,” I said, irritated that he was going to give me advice on love.

“So let me, OK? Yeah, I screwed up and someone's dead because of it. I know she didn't have to do it. I know I didn't
make
her do it, but my actions caused it, and there is nothing I can do to take it back. Nothing. And then I saw you and I had a second chance.”

“Why not with some other girl?”

“Would you let me talk?” He continued. “Not with some other girl. I am afraid, just like you. I don't want to be like I used to be, but what if I try my hardest and it's still not good enough and whoever I'm with does the same thing?”

“That's not going to happen.”

“Can you guarantee me that?” He looked at me earnestly and readjusted his hat on his head. “You've never had the guilt of someone's death hanging over you. No matter what I did, which wasn't right, I didn't see that coming. I had no clue she was going to kill herself. None. She's gone, and I'm to blame. I don't care what you say, or her parents say, or the psychologists say. She's gone because of me. What if it happens again? I've spent all this time avoiding relationships because of that, and then I see you and I know I can try again. I can risk it. Love is worth it. I'm scared to death, Tatum. Scared that I'll do something to screw it up, to screw you up, and it'll be the same.”

I put my hands on his forearm to reassure him, “That's not going to happen with me, I promise.”

“I know that here,” he said, pointing to his head. “But not here.” He pointed to his heart. “I'm taking a shot even though I'm scared ... I'm asking you to do the same.”

“I know ... but I'm not ready.”

“Because of me, or because of him?”

“Because of me. I like you both. I want to believe you, but even if I did a hundred percent, I don't know where things will go with him, and I have every right to play the field. I'm not crossing any lines with either of you. And if you don't like it ... get out of the game.”

“I'm tired of you saying that. This isn't a game for me. I've told you before, I got a second chance. I'm not going to blow it. I'm all in.”

“So then you're playing, whether you like it or not. You have to play by my rules and I'm not ready for second.” My body was more than ready. I wanted him, I wanted Parker, too, but it was all about that big old nasty “e-word,” exclusivity: commitment, being tied down. Cole was right; I was the one holding back.

Who did I want?

It wasn't a fair fight. I knew they both liked me in their own ways. To Cole I was a second chance; to Parker I was a new beginning. What I needed was to get them both on fair ground. Cole was fair: he wanted me; he wanted more. Parker was the problem because his girl still hung in the back of his mind. I had to get her out of the picture and make it fair.

One night, when Parker was over at the apartment with Brett and me, I laid it out to him. “OK here's the deal ... I like you. I want to see where this is gonna go, but I can't, and I know you can't, as long as there's a chance for you with Haylee, right?”

“Right.”

“So ... let's get her back, if she'll come back. And if not ... you're mine.”

Brett started to fake cough Cole's name under his breath from his “man chair,” a brown leather, electric recliner he bought brand new from Josh Underhill's Furniture Store a couple days before. No one was allowed to sit in it. I rolled my eyes. “Real subtle, Brett!” I said, chucking a pair of wadded up socks at him from his laundry basket that had taken up permanent residence in the living room.

“By then I'll either be with him,” I explained to them both; then in my most rational voice, “or I'll know he's not the one for me. And, if my plan works, she'll be back in your arms by then too.”

“You think?”

“I don't know, but it's worth a shot, right?”

“Anything's worth a shot.”

“So what have you done to get her back?”

“Well, I write her letters every month. I used to write them every week but that stopped a couple years ago.”

“OK, she's used to that so it's not going to change anything. What else?”

“I went down there.”

“When she broke up with you?”

“Yeah.”

“OK, that doesn't count. It's history.”

He looked so sad; I could see him reliving the memories. I wanted to hold him and promise him I would never break his heart the way she had, but I couldn't until I knew she was gone for good. If that meant I had to help him try to get her back to prove she was gone, that's what I had to do.

“Look,” I said, turning to face him on the couch and cupping his sad, stubbled face in my hands. I got lost in his eyes. “If she's meant to be yours, she'll come back. That's what you told me. That's what I'm telling you. All we gotta do is get her back. Have you found her online? Is she on Facebook?”

“I don't know about that stuff.”

“You should. Everybody's on there.” I left the couch to retrieve my laptop when someone knocked at the door.

“Come in,” Brett and I bellowed in unison. It was Cole in a tight fitting tank that showed off his brawny arms, and cargo shorts. His dark head of hair, for once, was not covered with a Patriots hat. He was such a stark contrast to Parker's military-cut hair and thin frame dressed in jeans, a simple black tee and his combat boots. He stood awkwardly in the door for a minute, crestfallen, I think, that not only was Parker there, he had beaten him to me.

“Come on in.” Brett motioned from his seat. “Tatum's helping Parker get his girl back. Grab me a beer.”

A grin splayed out on Cole's face. “You're what?” he asked me.

“I'm helping him get his girl back. I mean, if there's a chance.

“OK ... that's not weird or anything.” He looked at the two other guys.

“What?” I asked them all.

“Nothing,” Cole responded. “You want one?” he asked me from the open fridge.

“Yeah,” I answered, returning to sit next to Parker with my laptop in hand. I flicked it on and waited for it to power up.

“Parker, you want one?”

“Got a Sprite in there?”

“No. There's beer, Coke and some lemonade thing.”

“I'll take that.”

“Heads up!” Cole said, chucking our drinks across the room. I cracked open my beer, took a long drink and set it, and my feet, up on the edge of our second-hand coffee table. Cole found his way to the other side of me.

“So what exactly are you doing?” he asked.

“We're finding Haylee. She's gotta be on Facebook or MySpace or something.”

“Yeah, she's on MySpace for sure,” Brett said.

“She could be.”

“Try Facebook first,” Cole said.

“What do you know about this?”

“Dude, I'm like a baseball player; I gotta be on there for my fans. Facebook's where everybody's going.”

“Oh, please.” I laughed.

“What? I got fans.”

“Uh huh.” I turned to Parker to inject him into the conversation. “What's your girl’s name?” I asked. I knew her name and where she lived and a whole bunch of other information no new girl should ever know about a guy's ex.

We looked her up, but there was nothing.

“Well, we better get you on here so she can find you.”

“What's the point?”

“The point, my friend, is to make her want you. Set it up,” I said, handing the computer over to him.

By then Cole was transfixed on the Mariners game he had come over to watch with Brett. Cole heard that a scout from some college on the East Coast was supposed to be watching their next home game in a week. He tried, unsuccessfully, to hint to Brett that it might not be a bad idea to hitch a ride up through college leagues to the minors. Brett wouldn't have it; he still had his dreams of waking up one day and being there ... in the majors. He wasn't young anymore. He just turned twenty-one the month before. He was running out of time. If I was him I would have taken any route to where I wanted to go, especially if a guy moving up in the minors was suggesting it. But I wasn't him.

The four of us spent the day together. I got Parker's wall all set up and decided he needed a sexy picture for his profile. I promised we'd do that later. Cole smiled and asked if I wanted to take his picture later, too. I found another pair of socks to hit him with. I wanted to kiss him, and touch his thick, meaty arms that teased me, but Parker was there. The funny thing was I wanted to do the same with him. The feelings for both of them overwhelmed me.

Just before the game was over, Cole left. He had to get ready to head out with the team. I got up and walked him out to his car.

“Why are you doing that for him?” he asked almost as soon as the apartment door closed behind us.

“What?”

“Making him look for her.”

“Because he needs to get her back or let her go.”

“But why are you involved?”

“Because I have to know, Cole. If she comes back, I have to let him go.”

“And then you'll give me a chance?”

“I'm giving you a chance. Why does this have to be so complicated?”

“I don't know. Why are you making it complicated?”

“I make everything complicated,” I said. “Apparently that's what I do.”

“You drive me crazy,” he said, squeezing my head gently in between his hands and leaned over me. He kissed the top of my head and breathed deep, then tilted my face up to his and looked at me. “You're already mine. I keep on telling you but you don't get it. That's why you're doing this for him. You need him back with his girl so you can be free to be mine. Or ...” he said, leaning down, teasing my lips with his. I hoped Parker wasn't watching from our window.

“Or?” I asked.

“You can give up now. Admit you want me.” He kissed me softly, then pulled back. “Give us a chance, right now, before I'm the last choice.” He kissed me again as if his lips and tongue could convince me he was the one. They almost did. I fell into his embrace, wanting desperately to know for sure. But I couldn't decide. I was too close to Parker, our place on the lake, the times we shared, so different, most of them much less sexually charged than Cole and mine, but no less special and intimate. I didn't want to give him up, even if I thought Cole and I had been given a second chance, which I was starting to believe. Cole was being impressively patient, letting me play my game, forcing him to stay on first. He tolerated Parker but insisted we belonged together. But I kept waiting to find out he had someone on the side. There was nothing to lead me to believe he was messing around, but the nagging in the back of my mind remained. What was it? I knew what it was: the past. It wouldn't let me go. But the question was ... if it did, would I choose him? And that's when I always pulled back. I did not know. I had to know if Parker could let Haylee go first.

I knew, like Cole did, his week away would be a week full of Parker for me. Parker and I spent more time together than ever. The attraction I felt that first night never went away but it changed from a need I wanted to fulfill to a desire always simmering in the background. Parker would not be rushed to second with me the way I would not be rushed by Cole. We held hands all the time, though. He liked to touch them together, prayer pose, mine between his, and run his hands up and down them, slowly. It amazed me that a touch as simple as that awakened my body to passion the way it did. We kissed often, but not frivolously; each time with Parker was a moment of absolute intimacy and feeling ... or weakness on his part. When he doubted that she would come back, he gave in to me. I knew it was more about desperation than desire. The other times, the intimate moments he planned for me, scared me in the best ways. His love was all-consuming. I barely tasted it and could only imagine what his complete love must feel like, and wondered how anyone could run from it. Those kisses linger on my shelf like secret treasures.

The best of those secret treasures came after we got his profile picture. I told him he had to be shirtless because his abs were his best quality ... after his eyes. I loved getting lost in them his eyes. They were intense and held dark secrets he wasn't ready to divulge. We took pictures on base by the planes. The sun was big and bright in the sky and I knew he couldn't possibly look more perfect than shirtless in aviators with the planes behind him. He protested only the slightest bit. I was right: his pictures were amazing. He was a beautiful man and I would make sure she knew what she was missing if she ever sought him out.