Single in Suburbia (25 page)

“Sarah was never you, Brooke. And I’m sure their relationship wasn’t similar either.”

“But he couldn’t get enough of me and now he hardly ever wants to…” She sputtered to a stop, clearly embarrassed.

“So this is when you look for other things to share, besides sex,” Amanda said. “That animal attraction doesn’t last forever. And I think the first thing you need to share with him is the real you. Your outside’s pretty impressive, but I think what’s inside is even better.”

Brooke didn’t respond, but her look remained thoughtful.

“Hiding your past from Hap is not a good idea. What kind of partnership can you expect to have if he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with? I think you’re selling yourself and Hap short.”

Amanda resisted the urge to continue her lecture. Brooke would have to understand in her own time and her own way. She’d been married for eighteen years and was only just starting to understand herself and the man she’d married.

Pulling out her wallet, she counted out Brooke’s percentage of the money they’d earned that week.

Brooke shook her head. “I don’t want it. And I won’t take it.”

“Oh no.” Amanda tried to slip it into her purse. “We had a deal.”

Brooke handed it right back. “I’m doing this because I want to help you and that’s the way it’s going to be.”

“But…”

“I’m not even willing to discuss it, Amanda. Once you’re on your feet we’ll take a look at this and see what needs to happen next. Maybe I could help you train some other women.” She flashed a smile. “Maybe we can branch out and include other nationalities. If we’re hiring only French women it’s going to be pretty slim pickings.”

“But I can’t just take from you. I won’t be an object of charity.”

Brooke snorted. “Charity? Get real. Why don’t we call this my tuition? I’m learning a huge amount from you. I could never navigate the suburbs without you and Candace showing me the way. You help me keep my marriage intact and I’ll clean my little fingers to the bone for you.”

“I think you may have chosen the wrong teacher,” Amanda said. “My marriage hasn’t exactly stood the test of time.”

“Well that’s Rob’s mistake, not yours.” Brooke smiled—one of those full-out affairs that opened up her entire face. “I’m kind of hoping I turn out just like you when I grow up.”

At Wyatt’s game on Saturday, Amanda automatically sat with her cohorts in grime. Susie Simmons sat up and over to the left and didn’t seem at all interested in the three of them. She was gossiping with a group of mothers who barely bothered to greet Amanda. It was as if she’d somehow fallen off the face of their earth and no longer merited their attention. A small sense of loss passed through her, but it was surprisingly easy to shrug off.

Tiffany sat near Susie, but not really a part of the group. Amanda forced her gaze up to the girl’s face. It was still startlingly beautiful and was still framed by the lush swirl of blonde hair, but there was an unhappy downward turn to her lips. Perhaps she’d found out about Rob’s true financial situation. Or maybe she was tired of sitting in bleachers watching a child she hadn’t produced play baseball. Or maybe it was the fact that Rob was standing down at the dugout giving Wyatt last minute advice with his back turned toward her.

Moments later the other team jogged out to their positions on the field. Their pitcher began to warm up.

“Wow, look at that first baseman.” Candace leaned over to whisper. “I bet he drove the team bus.”

“He must be six feet,” Brooke agreed. “Don’t they all have to be twelve or under?”

“Yeah, and they’re supposed to have the birth certificates to prove it,” Amanda said. “But look at that catcher. He’s taller than Brett when he’s crouching.”

Sure enough, the Mudhens’ lead off hitter moved into position in the batter’s box and even hunkered down in position, the catcher still towered over him.

“I hope Dan is asking to see those birth certificates,” Candace said. “That pitcher looks like he needs a shave.”

“We are in deep doo-doo,” Brooke said.

They watched in silence as Brett struck out and another Mudhen stepped reluctantly up to the plate. Amanda was staring down at the field watching their next batter take a few practice swings, when Candace whispered, “Speaking of doo-doo…”

Amanda followed Candace’s gaze. Rob was striding up the bleachers toward Tiffany but surprised them all by slowing to smile at Amanda as he passed.

“What was that about?” Candace asked.

“Beats me.” Not knowing what else to say, Amanda focused on the game. Their third batter struck out and the Mudhens took the field. Wyatt jogged out to the mound and from the first pitch it was clear he was struggling.

He walked a batter. A moment later he’d filled the bases.

Stepping off the mound, he removed his cap, put it back on. He took a deep breath and stepped back onto the mound.

“Come on, Wy!” Rob shouted from behind her. “Bear down. You can do it.”

“You have to admire the fact that Wyatt hasn’t given up,” Brooke said.

“I know, but it’s so painful to watch. And with the stack of bills I’m trying to work through, I can’t even help him with lessons.”

Wyatt managed to get the batter to pop up and Drew Donovan flipped off his catcher’s mask and snagged it.

“Well, I can.” Hunter James’s voice took Amanda completely by surprise. Her gaze swung from the field to the man who’d somehow materialized beside her.

A hush settled over the stands as other people began to notice him too. Murmurs and whispers followed as everyone realized who he was.

“In fact, I’m kind of ticked off that you didn’t ask me. Especially after I threw myself on your mercy over Sam’s pool party.” He took a seat next to her, his thigh and shoulder pressing up against hers. “The way I see it, I owe you big time.”

“No, you don’t. Why—”

“Yes, he does,” Candace cut in smoothly. “And you’re going to have to let him work it off. Right after you introduce us.” She was already leaning over Brooke to extend her hand in greeting. “I’m Candace Sugarman. And I know exactly how hard it is to get her to accept any kind of help from her friends.”

“Damn straight,” Hunter said affably.

“I’m Brooke.” Extending her hand, Brooke smiled at Hunter. To his credit Hunter James didn’t point like a bird dog on the scent the way most men did around Brooke.

“I’m Hunter. Nice to meet you.”

Amanda was completely aware of his solid warmth beside her. “How’d you know about the game?” she asked.

“Meghan.” His gaze moved to the field and Wyatt. “She told Sam how bad things were getting for Wyatt and gave Sam the game schedule. Your son didn’t say a word about it to me the other night when we were watching the Cubs.” His gaze stayed on Wyatt even as he chided her. “I guess he takes after his mother.”

There was a thwack of a ball flying off a bat. A roar went up from the opposing bleachers and Amanda tore her gaze from Hunter’s arresting profile in time to see the ball sail over the left field fence. Silence reigned in the Mudhens’ camp while the home-run hitter trotted arrogantly around the bases behind the three runners he’d knocked in and stomped on home plate. His teammates rushed out to pound him on the back and swoop him up onto their shoulders.

Wyatt stared down at the pitcher’s mound as if he’d never seen one before. Amanda’s gaze flew to the scoreboard. Four runs had come in.

Dan Donovan called time and walked out toward Wyatt. His son, Drew, the catcher, trailed behind him. Amanda fought back the urge to run out onto the field and lead her baby off it.

“Aw, come on, Wy!” Rob’s voice was too loud and too full of disappointment. “You can do better than that!”

Out at the mound the coach put a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder and brought his face close to her son’s. They talked for a moment and Wyatt shook his head. Outside the right field fence one of the assistant coaches began warming up another pitcher. There was more conversation on the mound. Wyatt shook his head again, clearly unwilling to come out of the game.

“That’s it, son. You hang in there,” Rob called out. “Strike ’em out and sit ’em down!”

Rob’s voice drew Amanda’s attention and her ire. She wanted to take the baseball out of Wyatt’s hand and stuff it in his father’s mouth, but settled for turning and shooting a warning look up at Rob, who seemed to be splitting his energies between egging Wyatt on and contemplating Hunter James.

“That’s rough,” Hunter said, his gaze on Wyatt. “But you’ve got to take the good with the bad in baseball; that’s one of the basic principles of the game.”

“Well then I’d say we’re due for some of the good stuff,” Amanda said, thinking not only of Wyatt’s struggles on the mound.
Way overdue.

Hunter nodded his agreement. Then he focused his attention on the pitches that followed as Wyatt managed to draw grounders out of the next three batters to get the Mudhens out of the inning.

“Why don’t you bring him by my facility up on Roswell Road tomorrow about two?” Hunter said. “I’m not normally there on Sunday, but I can work with him then. I’ll drop him at home when we’re done.”

“That’s so kind of you,” Amanda began. “But I can’t afford—”

“And you don’t have to,” Hunter interrupted her protest. “Wyatt’s a great kid and he’s got a good arm. He just needs some help with his mechanics. And maybe a little boost to his confidence.” He smiled down at her and she felt a slight flush work its way up her neck to stain her cheeks. “Besides, like I said, I owe you.”

“Hi, Amanda.” Susie Simmons’s voice snapped Amanda’s head up. “Too bad about Wyatt’s pitching. He’s really having a bad day.” Having dispensed with the courtesies, Susie turned her attention to Hunter. “Lucy was so sorry Samantha wasn’t available to come over to celebrate the last day of school. I think she said she was having a party of her own?”

Susie stared at Hunter James with a look of naked hunger. Whether she was lusting after the man himself or the opportunity for her daughter to form a friendship with a celebrity’s child was unclear. What seemed clear was that Lucy’s party wasn’t happening and Susie wanted her daughter to be invited to the Jameses’.

Amanda was embarrassed on Susie’s behalf and irritated at the same time. She wasn’t a big fan of Susie’s daughter, either—she’d been catty to Meghan on more than one occasion—but she wouldn’t like to see the girl excluded. She knew all too well how that felt. “Meghan and Sam were working up their lists independently,” she said now, nudging Hunter slightly. “I bet they both thought the other had asked her.”

“Of course,” he said, catching on. “I’m sure that’s what must have happened. I’ll ask Sam to give, um, Lucy a call.”

“Why that is so incredibly sweet of you.” Susie’s simpering smile and gush of appreciation were directed at Hunter. Amanda wanted to gag.

“Was there anything else?” Candace asked Susie pointedly. “I’m having a hard time seeing the field.”

“Sorry.” Susie looked anything but. She didn’t move immediately, but turned her gaze between Amanda and Hunter then back again, obviously trying to figure out whether something was going on between them.

Hunter smiled easily at Susie. He had a knack for appearing friendly even while maintaining his distance. “Which one is yours?” He nodded out toward the field.

“My Chas is over there.” Susie pointed to the bench in the dugout where her son had been sitting for the last several innings. “I think he’s in a bit of a hitting slump.”

“That’s too bad,” Hunter said.

“You don’t teach batting, do you?” Susie asked brightly. “I’d love to have Chas take some lessons.”

“Sorry.” He shook his head, all good-natured friendliness. “But one of the guys I used to play with does.” He handed her a card. “Let me know if you decide to call him, and I’ll make the introductions.”

“Oh.” Susie stepped back clearly disappointed. “Thanks.” She returned to her seat where, Amanda assumed, she was already weaving her encounter with Hunter into a story that would show her in a better, more attractive light than was warranted.

Eyes bored into her back, but Amanda resisted turning around. Instead she contented herself with being in the center of her own little support group and told herself she should be happy that for the rest of the game, which they lost, Rob kept the advice he would normally have hurled at Wyatt to himself.

chapter
22

C
andace sat in the Buckhead eatery with three women whom she’d known since prep school and hadn’t seen in a good six months. Between them, they’d had thirteen husbands and almost as many houses. All three of the others had children in college and empty nests the size of the Taj Mahal. Before Candace’s move to the northern suburbs, they had lunched and shopped regularly and taken turns chairing the most prestigious fund-raisers.

“To what do I owe this invitation?” Candace asked after they’d placed their orders.

The three of them exchanged glances and it was Bootsie Birnbaum, who had organized the lunch, who spoke. “We miss you since your move to the hinterlands.” Bootsie’s recent facelift had left her features in a permanent expression of surprise. “I knew there was something wrong with Nathan when he insisted you actually
live
in the neighborhood he was developing.”

“I agree.” Sharon Sizeman shivered delicately. Years of dieting had left her with zero body fat; despite the fact that they were sitting out on the terrace on a sunny May afternoon, she had a sweater draped over her shoulders.

Cindy Miller signaled the waiter for more coffee. “You need to come in more often.” Like the others, she thought of the suburbs outside of the 285 loop that circled Atlanta as “outside” and the area surrounding Buckhead as “inside.” It was much more than a geographical distinction. Candace had once felt that way, too; at the moment she found it irritating.

“How else can we find you a new husband?”

As if there were no available men in east Cobb where she lived. “My mother’s already working overtime on that, thank you very much,” Candace said. “Don’t worry your little heads about it.”

“Yeah, but your mother liked Nathan. And he was playing around before he’d finished saying I do.” Bootsie’s lips moved when she spoke; her face didn’t.