That hole in her chest tore right back open.
Her smile felt stiff, and she went back into automatic. “Doing fine, doing fine,” she said, feeling brittle enough to shatter. “Nine-to-five, gotta survive, right?”
Embarrassment was burning through her. She wanted to walk away, to forget who she was, but Eddie wouldn’t let her walk away.
Instead he said, “You got that right,” and he was smiling and shaking his head with the neighborly wisdom of it. “Those kids of yours can’t be cheap. ” His complete attention was on his food as he squirted a big glop of ketchup on his plate and dragged a forkful of hash browns through it. “How’s Luke? He playing fall ball this year?” He shoveled the bite into his mouth.
Helen might not be proud of herself, but she sure was proud of her son. Her oldest boy had quite the pitching arm, and it made her smile. “Yeah. You know he wouldn’t miss it. The kid thinks the major league will be calling any day now. ”
She’d scoffed, but Eddie only shrugged. “Who knows?” he mused. “Someday, maybe they will. ”
It was a charitable and generous thing to say. Oddly, although the comment made Eddie soar in her estimation, the fact of it made her feel lonelier than ever. He was a good man, and what she wouldn’t do for a good man.
“That boy’s got an arm on him,” he went on. “You let me know if you want me to throw the ball around with him. I’d be happy to teach him my fastball. I call it the Jessup Special. ” Eddie mimicked a slow pitch with an elaborate flourish to his wrist. “It’s all in the release. ”
She gave him a sad smile. Ball practice was supposed to be for dads. But she gave him an appreciative nod. “I’ll do that, Eddie. Thanks. ”
Laura practically leapt on her the moment she returned to the kitchen. “He still out there?” she demanded in an angry whisper.
Something about i
t annoyed Helen, and she intentionally answered in a normal volume, “Who, Eddie?”
“Shhh!” Laura stole a peek through the pass-through, staring in his direction for more than a few seconds. “Good Lord, how many coffees can one man drink?”
Helen took a step toward the door. “Want me to go ask?”
Laura swung to face her, pinning her with a flat stare. “Do you have a problem?”
Helen feigned confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I thought we girls were supposed to stick together. ”
She laughed at the concept as she went to unload the industrial dishwasher. “I didn’t realize we were on the same team. ” She had to step back to avoid the cloud of scalding hot steam—some women went to the spa for facials; Helen unloaded dishes.
Laura looked momentarily flustered. “Well…we are. On the same team. ”
Sorrow chimed in, “Give him a break. I’m pretty sure Eddie’s bad-boy days are way behind him. ”
“Still,” Laura said, “I try to steer clear of men like that. ”
“Mm-hm,” Helen acknowledged, but it was mostly to be polite. She didn’t look away from the sturdy white dinner plates as she got into a rhythm, systematically drying and stacking them in the cabinet. “I’m sure you do. ”
“What does that mean?” Laura’s voice came out a squeak.
Helen thought on it a moment. She was concentrating on her work. The comment hadn’t meant anything, not really. And anyway, since when did what she thought matter one bit to Laura Bailey? Helen was way too tired and full of her own problems to craft double meanings or spend her time psychoanalyzing the girl. Seemed like Laura made drama for herself, while there she was, drowning in crises not of her own making.
Stay away from men like that. Eddie was a good and simple man, and just then, good and simple seemed like heaven. She put down her dishrag, and, letting out a gusty sigh, she met Laura’s eyes. “Honey, what I wouldn’t do for a man like Eddie. ” When the Bailey girl shuddered, she gave her a wicked smile. “Come on. He’s cute. ”
“He’s not cute,” Laura said vehemently.
She raised her brows and gave the girl a pointed look. “Come. On. ”
“All right,” Laura relented. “Fine. Eddie’s cute, okay? But he’s, like, twelve. ”
“He’s your age. ” She swallowed her real comment, which went a little something like, You might be special, but the clock ticks for you as much as it does for the rest of us. The whole thing made her want to needle the girl, so she added in a feminine purr, “Plus, he’s some ball player. Did you see the home run yesterday?”
Laura took over dish duty, which spoke volumes to Helen. If the older Bailey girl was resorting to manual labor without being asked, she really was troubled by something. “Yes, I saw that home run,” she said tightly.