Last First Kiss (17 page)

Despite her uneasiness, Giselle laughed over her daughter’s comment. “Toby couldn’t grill a thing without burning it,” she snorted, trying to keep from laughing again, only to have it bubble out of her just the same.

As soon as he disappeared into the house, the younger women of the family swarmed around her. Gretchen, Lauren, Amanda, and Trina all took turns hugging her. They explained how Carrie had put off their Mother’s Day celebration until she felt up to it.

Jackson walked up with her plate of food. “I brought you a tea, is that okay?” he asked, placing the plate in front of her on the table.

Giselle groaned inwardly.
Oh Lord, please let him be unaware
.

In contrast to the quiet camaraderie of the back yard, the inside of the house was chaotic. In standard Mother’s Day tradition at Carrie and Sam’s, the men of the family catered to the women and children for the day. Fathers, grandfathers and uncles attended to the needs of the children then did the same for all the women of the family. Jackson and Bill had been put in charge of Giselle and her girls.

Giselle felt self-conscious with Jackson waiting on her, particularly after that dream. She didn’t need anyone to interpret the dream for her...she was physically attracted to the man. She gazed up at Jackson’s bulk filling the doorway, balancing his own plate and drink in his hands, looking for a place to sit. He wore a white Polo shirt tucked into a pair of dress khaki shorts that fit snugly around his hips. She closed her eyes, recalling the image of his hips draped in a loose towel, then jumped as she heard Carrie clear her throat. Giselle turned to see her friend watching her, and shifted her gaze quickly to her plate, feeling the heat of the blush to the top of her head.

After lunch, everyone sat outside to visit. Being that seven of the eight children in attendance were playing baseball that summer, the conversation naturally took a turn to that subject.

Jackson turned to Giselle. “Are you feeling up to making some of the girls’ games yet?”

She turned to watch her daughters playing with the other kids. “I’ll make them from now on.”

“Hey, speaking of baseball,” Carrie announced, “I heard this year’s Summer Sizzler charity tournament has been scheduled for the second Saturday in August. Sam, they want you to call the games. You up to umpiring in hundred degree heat again this year?”

“I guess I’ll live for one day,” he groaned.

Jackson set his bottle of water down and leaned forward. “How are the teams formed?”

“By volunteers from area contractors,” Sam explained. “I’ve seen years when we have five or more teams, and I’ve seen some lean years when only two showed up. There are usually last-minute sign ups and drop outs, so it’s hard to call until game day. I know for a fact our team could use some new blood,” Sam admitted.

Bill cleared his throat loudly, getting everyone’s attention. “You know,” he said, “Jackson played some college ball. Are you going to play this year?”

“Wait a minute! Around that time, my step dad and I went to watch LSU play,” Joe told him. “They had a freshman pitcher who blew his shoulder out after pitching a no-hitter. He was a Broussard, and real tall. That wasn’t you, was it?”

“Afraid so,” Jackson admitted, reluctantly.

“Damn! All this time you’ve worked with Carrie and Sam and we didn’t know. Man, you were great! That shoulder injury of yours was a tragedy.”

“It was unfortunate, but not a tragedy,” Jackson murmured.

“So, that was it-you never played again?”

“No, that ended my short lived career. After I had the surgery and completed physical therapy, they wanted me to play first base, but all I’d ever wanted to do was pitch. Besides, they already had the best possible first baseman.” He shrugged. “That’s when I changed my major to engineering. I hadn’t really thought about what I was going to do with my life until then.”

“So, if you hadn’t blown out your shoulder, we never would have met you,” Carrie said. “Everything happens for a reason. But why haven’t you ever played on our team?”

Sam slapped his knee and guffawed loudly. “No practices...everyone just shows up and prays they don’t hurt themselves. Relax, you’re in good shape.”

“Mmmm...that’s an understatement,” Amanda said quietly, causing all the women to laugh amongst themselves; all the women except for Giselle, who kept her head down and remained silent as she replayed the image of him in that towel.

Inspired by all the talk of baseball, Sam and the rest of the guys hit the storage shed looking for bats, balls, and any gloves they could find. Austin and Cathryn, the two oldest grandchildren, ran to their nearby homes and came back with enough equipment to start up a backyard baseball game. Before long, nearly everyone was out in the huge yard, playing a game of softball.

It didn’t take long to discover that Jackson hadn’t lost his touch when it came to hitting or fielding. Even the women got into the game, all except for Carrie who sat with two year old Ava, and Giselle, who sat next to her to watch the game and cheer. When it was Jackson’s turn to bat, he stood solemnly for a moment then pointed out to right field, drawing hoots and hollers from the other players. He shuffled his feet at the makeshift base and swung the bat a few times to loosen up. He let Joe’s first and second pitches go by, but the third one came right over the plate. Jackson’s bat met the ball with a loud crack and sent it exactly where he’d pointed, over the fence. Lex and Mac screamed with excitement as he trotted leisurely to the bases and finished by stomping on home plate.

“Might be worth going to watch that game this year,” Carrie mentioned. “What do you think, Giselle?”

“Huh? Oh...yeah, maybe so,” she stammered, trying to hide the fact that she enjoyed watching him move. She’d been totally engrossed in watching his powerful arms when he hit the ball with enough force and control to send it just where he wanted. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him as he ran the bases with the natural grace and ease of the athlete he obviously was. She smiled as he easily scooped her two daughters up in his arms for hugs.

She felt Carrie staring at her and turned toward her friend. The gleam in Carrie’s eye along with the satisfied expression made Giselle blush down to her sandals.

Giselle turned to face her then looked away, and shook her head. “God, Carrie, I loved Toby so much...I
never
looked at another man.”

Carrie nodded. “I know that, and just because you can appreciate the physical qualities of a man like Jackson, doesn’t mean you’re cheating on Toby. Besides, you’re still so young, Giselle...you have needs. Trust me, once you get over the initial shock of ‘seeing’ Jackson, you’ll remember soon enough that he’s just a man.”

“This morning,” Giselle began uneasily, “I walked into his house to get away from his neighbor’s Doberman...and he was standing there, in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.” She grinned as Carrie’s eyebrows rose. “You know, Toby had a good body...but, I swear, the only thing I could think of when I saw Jackson was that he looked like Toby on steroids.” She looked at Carrie and whispered, “He’s a freaking Adonis under those business suits!”

“Is he now?” Carrie asked, with a chuckle. “Well, maybe we should ask him to show off a little of that here today.”

“Don’t you
dare
!” Giselle chided her friend. She stared down at her laced fingers and got quiet. “I slept in my bed when I got home this morning.”

Carrie nodded, but remained silent.

“I opened up Toby’s closet door and I could smell him. His clothes from the last day he worked were still in his hamper. I brought his shirt with me to bed...his cologne...that’s how I fell asleep.” She shook her head slowly. “I guess I need to clean out his closet. That’s what people on television do; they ‘box up’ everything, send it to Goodwill or something, and then they move on with their lives.

Carrie leaned toward her. “Oh, hon...I think we all know it isn’t that simple. It can wait. I’m glad you slept in the room, though. Did you sleep well?”

“Thanks, but I think that’s something I need to do by myself.” After a few moments of watching the ball game, Giselle turned to Carrie. “Did you know Jackson got all knew furniture?”

“Yep, he said it was his way of purging himself of Chloe.”

“Come to think of it, I didn’t see any sign that she’d ever lived there. No wedding pictures, no photos of them together, no snapshots on the fridge or anything like that.”

There never was a single portrait of them together in that house...Chloe wouldn’t allow it.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“I wish I was. She had glamour shots and studio shots of herself everywhere, but not a single picture of Jackson on display. No wedding, high school graduation, college graduation, especially when he played ball for L.S.U....Nothing. It was like he didn’t exist. That was one self-centered bitch.” She looked over at Giselle to see her mouth hanging open in shock. “I always told you there was stuff going on in his home life that you didn’t know about. That’s why I stayed on your case to cut him some slack.”

“And there I was, giving him hell at work, too. I feel so bad about that, now.”

Carrie smiled sadly at her. “Let it go, Giselle. He certainly has. So, how’s the new furniture? Bill said it’s nice.”

“Beautiful! A huge improvement over what was there before.” Giselle gave Carrie a detailed description of Jackson’s purchase. “You wouldn’t believe how comfortable his bed is.”

Giselle laughed and turned back to watch Jackson stretch one long, muscular leg, then the other. His fluid movements brought back the image of him walking away in that towel. “Yeah,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I’d never want to get out of bed if I had a mattress like that...”