"I forgot my extra water bottle and towel."
"Uh-huh. And I suppose you want me to bring these items to you."
"You're the best." He hung up.
It was a good thing I worked for my dad. My hours were flexible, and it's not like I had ever really needed to work except for when Neil was still in medical school. I supposed working was more important now. Not that I couldn't live off the alimony and child support, but I couldn't depend on that forever. Honestly, I should probably be looking for another job to support myself. My part time job doing the books was a nice supplement, but I would be in trouble if I had to live off it. Something to think about in the very near future. Kid first.
Every time I'd driven the last few days, I took a moment to laugh evilly in my head, or sometimes out loud if I was feeling particularly ticked. Which was pretty much all the time lately. For spite, I'd asked for Neil's luxury sedan in the divorce. He loved this car. It was the kind of car that said he'd made it. Meanwhile I had been stuck driving our old minivan. Neil hated the van. It wasn't my dream car either, but it was convenient to haul Cody and all his friends around, especially when they had gear with them. That car shouted domestic suburban bliss. That in and of itself was a good reason to let Neil inherit it. He shattered the illusion of domestic bliss I had constructed for our family. He deserved the car that propagated that lie. And I quite enjoyed the fine leather seats and sunroof of my new car. Not to mention the navigation system and fantastic sound system. Except I wasn't playing classical music over it like Neil used to, unless classic rock counted.
I was surprised Neil hadn't put up a fight to keep his car. But he had surprised me a lot over the last year. None of it good.
I pulled into the school parking lot and noticed there was still a lot of construction going on for the new addition. The added space was a long time coming and the reason school was starting two weeks late this year, the day after Labor Day. It caused a big brouhaha in the district. People were up in arms that school would run until mid-June this school year. I wasn't fond of it either, but I had been watching my life fall apart, so it was small in comparison. Honestly, school starting later this year worked for me. Having the divorce finalized before Cody started school was a good thing. We both needed that closure.
It was a steamy end-of-August morning. Mother Nature had teased us last week with a few fall-like days, so the humidity felt especially sticky. I hated Cody practicing out in this kind of weather, but Cody assured me they took plenty of water breaks. The team had water available, but Cody was particular about his water bottles. He had the kind that kept water cool, no matter the temperature outside. And I was glad he still felt like he could call me. Besides, it gave me a good excuse to check on him.
The humidity was doing no favors for my naturally wavy hair I hadn't really had time to do. All I got was some styling spray spritzed into it. It had taken me forever to unclog the spray bottle; I hadn't used it in months. Not like it did any good, the weather was making my hair look like I had gotten a perm.
I shuttled across the parking lot to the practice field situated well away from the school. With each step I felt my hair curling. I almost used Cody's towel to wipe off the sweat dripping down into my bra. He probably wouldn't have appreciated that. Even before I reached the field I could hear loud grunts and helmets colliding. Whistles blew and coaches raised their voices giving direction. I skirted the edge of the field near some bleachers. I didn't want to interrupt or embarrass Cody. I could see him on the far end of the field practicing with the offensive coordinator and the other two quarterbacks.
I wrestled with what to do. Stay out in the sauna until some kind of break was called? Or pass Cody's items off to one of the coaches on the sidelines? I zeroed in on Reed talking to a small group of assistants and coordinators. Oddly enough, when I focused on him he looked up and caught my eye. He tilted his head, probably wondering what I was doing there. It wasn't like parents were invited to practice. Or maybe he couldn't believe I would show my face in public after the show my family put on for him last night at my expense. Or perhaps he was remembering the forest on my knee where his hand had landed. I still thought his gesture was weird. I looked down at my longish legs that were smooth as a baby's butt today.
When I tipped my head up I was surprised to see Reed walking my way, grinning. He was looking grown-up in his tan shorts and polo shirt monogrammed with the school name and Coach Cassidy written under it. Despite that, all I could see was the boy with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.
On a second glance, maybe that boy had grown up to look like . . . what? Thinking it made me giggle inside. I had to press my lips together so that laugh didn't escape, but the closer he got the harder it was to suppress. How did little Reed Cassidy grow up to look like one of those men that graced sports and celebrity magazines? I don't know why I found that so funny. By the time he got to me a snicker escaped.
"What's so funny?"
Should I tell him? "I just can't get over you coaching Cody's team." Not exactly what I was thinking, but true nonetheless.
His well-kept eyebrows knitted together. "I'm not a teenager anymore."
"I guess in my head you'll be forever fifteen."
He let out a heavy breath and focused on the towel and water bottle I was holding. "Do you need me to give those to Cody?" His smile was long gone.
It made me realize how rude I probably sounded. "I am so sorry. What I just said was ridiculous. I'm turning into my mother."
I noticed his eyes graze over me. "I wouldn't exactly say that." His smile was back.
I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I made things more awkward. "I'm sure I'll get over the fact I used to babysit you and see you as you know, what you are now."
This is what happens when you hide yourself away for months. I must have lost some brain cells along the way. Who was I and what was coming out of my mouth?
He stepped closer. His eyes were laughing at me. "And what am I now?"
I waved over his tall, lean body. He had at least five to six inches on me, which was weird because I used to be taller than him, but I maxed out at five-feet-eight.
I sputtered for words. "You know, a . . . grown-up person."
His laugh was loud and in my face.
As if the heat and humidity weren't bad enough, embarrassment coursed through me, making me feel like I had been swallowed by hell. I pushed Cody's towel and water bottle toward him. "If you could give these to my son, I would really appreciate it."
He wasn't taking them. He could hardly catch a breath he was laughing so hard.
I took matters into my own hands. I would give them to Cody myself. I needed to be anywhere except where I was. I headed for the field as fast as my strappy wedge sandals would take me.
It didn't take Reed long to come after me. "Hey, Sam."
I ignored him. The situation worsened when several of Cody's friends saw me and some of them said, "Hi, Mrs. Higgins."
It was like my kryptonite. My feet froze in the sweltering summer heat. Everyone told me not to change my last name because of Cody, but I could no longer be Samantha Higgins. She had been destroyed. But to everyone, that was who I was.
"Sam, are you okay?"
I met Reed's concerned eyes and made more of a fool of myself. "I'm Samantha Decker." My frame shook.
At first, confusion flooded his eyes and then a softening appeared. "I always liked that name. It suits you."
His words helped me snap out of my minor breakdown. A friendly scoff escaped. "You used to tease me about it." Peter and him taunted me about having a "boy" name.
"I plead my brain not being fully developed yet."
I shoved Cody's things toward him. "I need to go."
He partially took the towel and held it between us. "Sam, I'm sorry for whatever it is you're going through." He didn't sound at all like the boy I once knew.
It was then I realized how close we stood together and how weird it seemed. I let go of the towel, leaving it in his capable hands. "Thank you. And I'm sorry for . . . well, for . . ." I couldn't articulate a thing. What had happened to me? I had a degree in English. I sounded like I minored in stupidity.
I might have detected worry in his eyes, like maybe he should be calling someone for a mental health evaluation for me. It probably wasn't a bad idea.
I turned to flee the scene. I made it ten feet before Reed yelled out, "I'm sorry about your Bryan Adams poster and t-shirt."