“I could. Yeah, you’re right. But I’ve learned there are more important things in life than contracts and batting titles.”
My heart slams in my chest and I feel tears build up in the corners of my eyes. I don’t say a word, just listen, and hope, even if I’m wrong, that he’s going to say what I think he is.
“There are seasons in life,” Lincoln continues. “I spent my entire life up to now focused on baseball. It’s been a great run. Fantastic, actually. I’ve done things and seen things most people can only dream of. But what do I have besides all that?”
“I have no idea where this is going,” my mother answers. “Or why you are here with our daughter. Or why we are even here, to be honest.”
I start to respond, but Lincoln’s squeeze stops me. Instead, he chuckles.
“No one is keeping you here.” He looks at my mother and then at my father. When they don’t move, he laughs. “I’m here with Dani because I’m in a new season of my life. Today is opening day.”
My eyes blur again and I lean my head against him. I breathe him in, all expensive cologne and male testosterone, and feel safe in the midst of my parents for the first time. For once, I don’t have to battle them. Their ferocity isn’t aimed at me. He’s protecting me and it feels better than I even imagined it would.
“The trophies in the guest bedroom don’t talk back. They don’t keep me company or warm at night. They don’t play catch and they don’t drink coffee with me in the morning.”
He looks down at me and chuckles at the smile on my face. “A mess,” he whispers, swiping at my tears. “A total mess.” I giggle as he kisses my forehead and looks back to my parents.
“You’re just like Ryan,” my father blows. “A kid born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You have no drive. No—”
“Say what you want about me,” Lincoln booms over top my dad, “but don’t talk about her. You know less about her than you know about me.”
“She’s our daughter. What in the hell are you talking about?”
“You can rattle off my statistics, my contract terms, my health report. What do you know about Dani?”
They look at Lincoln like he’s just asked them the equation for world peace. Their silence is so loud, the lack of response deafening.
“If I’m like her,” Lincoln says, “then my mom will be proud. In my family, love isn’t predicated on wins and losses, fame or persona. It’s about who we are as people. What we are all about when all that shit is stripped away.”
“You know nothing about Ryan.” My mother eyes me like I’m an inconvenience. “You need to focus on what matters, Lincoln.”
“I am.”
My father eyes me with the hollowness I’ve come to expect. There’s no love in his gaze, no adoration. No humor or pride like I’ve seen in the Landry family. No empathy like I see in Lincoln’s eyes. “I hope you’re happy, Ryan. You’ve just fucked up this man’s life beyond repair.” He jerks my mother along as they stride towards the front door, anger seeping off of him as his hand hits the knob.
“She will be happy. I’ll see to it.” Lincoln’s voice is loud and clear in the foyer as we step to the side and let them pass. “You can help that out too by not coming around again.”
“You will not tell me what I’m going to do, with my own child at that!” My dad turns on his heel and faces Lincoln, his face red.
“I’m not a child!” I shake off Lincoln’s grip, and for the first time in my life, face my father head-on. “I’m a grown woman, one that has nothing in common with you but some DNA.”
“Listen to you,” Dad seethes. “We haven’t seen you in God knows when and you talk to us like this!”
Lincoln’s hand finds me and he gently, yet forcefully, moves me back. He steps between my father and I. “You need to leave. Now.”
“We—”
“Now,” Lincoln repeats, a vein in his temple starting to pulse. “You will not stand in front of me and talk to her like that.”
“And what are you going to do about it, you little punk?”
“There’s nothing more tempting right now than slamming my fist in your face. But I won’t do that . . . because of her. She’ll just have to deal with it, and you’ve given her a lifetime of shit to work through, you fucking assholes.”
My mother gasps. My father shakes from the wrath radiating off him. Lincoln stands calm and cool.
It’s a scene from a movie, one that makes me swoon when I watch it on the big screen. I’m too caught up in the moment to do much but watch with an open mouth.
“Leave,” Lincoln tells them, flicking the door handle. It swings open, the early afternoon air rustling through the house. “Now. And don’t come back. Whatever obligations you feel towards Dani, consider them taken over by me. She doesn’t need you. Now go.”