Cross Country Chaos Page 3

  They laughed. He patted her hand again. She wanted to reach out and take it, hold it, but resisted the urge.

  “Thank you, Mart.”

  “For what?”

  “For taking time with him, with us. I can’t tell you how much this means to me, to him. Both of them. Their dad…” She didn’t finish.

  Mart watched the boys. “Your ex isn’t comfortable with the whole disabled lifestyle, is he?”

  She shook her head. “No. I think the final straw was when Denny was four and got his first wheelchair and preferred it to walking braces. David couldn’t handle not having a ‘perfect’ son. Until then, he insisted Denny would walk. There’s more to it, but that’s the bottom line. He always makes a big deal with Paulie about his sports, but with Denny…”

  She turned back to Mart, found him looking into her eyes.

  “Your ex is an idiot.”

  “I know that and you know that, but I can’t tell the boys.”

  “They’ll figure it out. Sooner rather than later.”

  “I know.” She forced her eyes away from his intense gaze. “I wish I could soften the blow. Unfortunately, I’m not alone. I’m on a support group for SB moms, and a lot of men bail. Not all of them, but more than I thought ever would.”

  “I was lucky. My dad was competitive. My parents raised me insisting I go out and do everything I could. Dad wouldn’t let me quit. I was the baby, and my brothers were big into baseball. While I couldn’t really do that back then, because of how it was set up, he made sure I was out there trying to do something, learning how to hit, to pitch. I was allowed to practice with the team and help with equipment. The coach made me assistant equipment coach.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “I throw a wicked curveball, by the way. The point is, my dad didn’t let me sit around and feel sorry for myself. I was in high school when he heard about wheelchair racing. He made me get a part-time job to help pay for my first racer.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Went to work for my friend’s dad. He built computers, wrote programs, and later built websites. This was back when the Internet was still pretty new, mind you. Before long, I was better at it than he was.”

  “Impressive.”

  He shrugged. “Got to the point I could pay for my own equipment and travel expenses. I put myself through college. Learned programming, wrote some open source software that got me noticed, and I had a job before graduation. Fit well with my racing schedule because I could work anywhere. They gave me a laptop and away I went.”

  “Lots of freedom, huh?”

  “I don’t do well in an office. At least not long-term. I manage to make someone mad by speaking my mind.”

  “Not a ‘plays well with others’ kind of person?”

  “I am when it comes to sports. At work I want to be left alone. Someone else can handle the bureaucracy. I just want to do my job. I don’t mind handling customers or training, that’s part of the territory. But I don’t deal well with management. I’m lucky the company I’m contracting to right now takes a hands-off approach. I produce, they get results, but they have to let me work my way. And I have the occasional speaking engagement. That’s not my bread and butter, but it’s fun.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Works for me.” He met her eyes. “What do you do?” She had to focus on what he said.

  He’s talking to you, stupid!

  “Huh? Oh, I’m a freelance writer. Working on the great American novel.” She smiled, and he laughed. “Mostly software tutorials, articles, things like that. Allows me to work from home and pay the bills.”

  “That’s great. What’s your novel about?”

  She blushed, not used to someone taking an active interest in her. “Paranormal thriller.”

  He brightened. “Really? I love those. Can I read it when it’s done?”

  She nodded. David never, not once, offered to read her work. The few times she got him to read anything, he picked it apart, doing nothing but finding fault. He didn’t like her writing fiction because, as he said, it was a ‘waste of time.’ “I’m getting good comments about it from a critique list I’m on. Once I get the draft cleaned up, I’ll query agents.”

  “That’s neat. Any others?”

  She answered despite feeling self-conscious. “Well, a couple of ideas. Making notes right now.”

  “People tell me I should write a book. I don’t have the patience or the time. Do you ever ghostwrite?”

  “I’ve done some of that. And freelance editing.”

  “Would you be interested in partnering on something?”

  There was that wonderful shiver of anticipation again. “Sure. I have a couple of projects I’m committed to right now, but by the end of next month, I’m available.”

  “Cool.” He called the boys over. “Denny, do you want to try field?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Throwing things.”

  “I can do that!”

  Mart laughed. “You have to do it a certain way.” He handed Kelly his keys. “Could you please get the green duffel bag out of the back of my van?”

  She retrieved it. It was heavier than it looked. When he unzipped it, she realized why—it held a shot put.

  He handed it to Denny. “Do you know what that is?”

  Denny hefted it. “Cannon ball?”

  Mart laughed. “No, but that was good. It’s a shot put.”

  “What do you do with it?”

  He reached for it. “I’ll show you.” He demonstrated the proper technique, putting it for Denny. Paulie retrieved it and handed it to Mart. “Think you can do that?” Mart asked Denny.

  Denny nodded. Mart turned him around to prevent an accident with the picnic table and showed him the proper way to heave it. “Keep in mind when you compete, they have these lines you have to stay in, called a vector. Looks like a pie wedge, but you start at the little end of it. If you go out of bounds, you get DQd.”

  “What’s dee-queued?”

  “Disqualified. Well, that throw would be disqualified. You get several chances. They use your longest good throw as your score.”

  Paulie brought it back again. Mart spent several minutes working on it with Denny.

  “What else?” the boy asked.

  Mart returned the shot put to the duffel bag and started to hand Denny a red rubber disk, quickly snatching it away before the boy touched it. Mart looked at Kelly. “Is he latex sensitive?”

  She shook her head. “No. Precautions, but not reactive.” Her heart soared. It took her years to pound latex allergy precautions—a common and potentially deadly complication—into David’s head, and Mart already knew about it.

  Mart looked relieved. “Sorry, didn’t think about it sooner. I don’t like to take chances.” He showed Denny how to hold it. “Now when you throw it, you have to do it like this.” He demonstrated, spreading his long fingers around the discus. “You try it.”

  The boy lobbed it. Mart laughed. “Good! How’d you like that?”

  Denny flapped. “That’s fun!”

  They practiced for a few minutes. Paulie and Kelly took turns retrieving. Mart put it away and unpacked a plastic rocket, about two feet long, blue and yellow.

  “What’s that?” Denny asked.

  “You ever hear of a javelin?”

  Denny shook his head. “It’s sort of like a spear,” Mart explained. “You know what that is?” Denny nodded. “Well, kids your age get to use one of these. It’s called a Turbo Jav. It’s a safe version, easier for you to throw.”

  “Safe?” Kelly asked.

  Mart smiled. “Well, not around a windshield. I accidentally put a crack in mine during practice once. Do you want a kid tossing a pointy metal stick at you?”

  Kelly laughed. “No thanks.”

  He demonstrated, then watched Denny throw it. After a few minutes, Mart repacked the bag and handed it to Kelly.

  “That was good. Remember, you don’t want to throw just
for distance, you’ll also have to keep it between the vector lines. A friend of mine’s loaning me a throwing chair for you. For now, you and Paulie practice in the backyard every day. Okay?”

  Denny nodded. “I promise.”

  Mart looked at Paulie. “Did you see how I threw?”

  “Yeah. We did it in PE last semester.”

  “You help him. Make sure he throws correctly. If you have any questions, call me.”

  Paulie puffed up. Mart knew how to keep Paulie engaged and involved, and Kelly loved that about him.

  That thought scared her.

  Hell, she didn’t even know if he liked her! Didn’t even know if she liked him! This was crazy. She needed to get her head on straight.

  She looked at Mart. It’s just lust.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Mart winked at her. Her face turned bright red, but she winked back.

  Chapter Five

  “So tell me more about this guy,” Patty said. The boys warmed up in the pool under Coach Greg’s watchful eye. As always, Patty’s hair stubbornly refused to frizz, while Kelly bullied hers into submission with a ponytail holder.

  “What’s there to tell? He’s nice, and he’s helping Denny qualify for Nationals.”

  Patty looked at Kelly over the top of her sunglasses. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is he cute?”

  “Patty, not every single guy I meet is a potential date.” Because of Denny, most of them weren’t.

  “That was my next question. And why the hell not? Does it bother you he’s in a chair?”

  “No. Of course not.” Actually, now that she thought about it, it didn’t. She was so accustomed to Denny being in a chair that she didn’t see Mart as a guy in a chair.

  Just as a handsome guy. Who happened to be single. With gorgeous green eyes…

  “Then ask him out.”

  “Why would he want to date a divorced mom of two?”

  “Because you’re not a bad-looking woman. Why wouldn’t he want to date you?”

  Kelly thought about the way Mart told her she could call him, how he went out of his way to mention he was single and ask if she was single. “He has the neatest green eyes.”

  “Really?” Patty sat up. “Tell me more, girlfriend.” Patty was happily married and always dying to get a vicarious thrill out of Kelly’s potential dating life.

  Kelly thought about Mart. “He is cute.”

  “And?”

  “Not an ounce of fat on him.”

  “Ooh, keep going. You have me interested in him now.”

  Kelly realized what she was doing. “Patty, point taken. He’s a nice-looking, available guy.”

  “Then ask him out. What’s the worst that can happen? He says no.”

  “He’s Denny’s coach. I don’t want anything weird happening. What if we don’t hit it off and then Denny loses his coach? I don’t want to do that to him.”

  Patty sighed, relaxed on the lounge. “You need to learn to take chances, take a leap of faith.”

  “I did that once and hit the ground like a freaking rock.”

  “David was an asshole. From what Greg told me, Martin’s a nice guy.”

  Kelly hated it when people tried to manage her life for her, especially her love life. “What? You’ve been talk—”

  “Kelly, if your best friend can’t look out for you, who can? Greg said he thinks Martin likes you.”

  Kelly’s outrage faltered in mid-rant. “Really?”

  Patty nodded. “Greg told me Martin asked if you were seeing anyone.”

  “Really?”

  Kelly leaned back in her lounge. Mart asked about her.

  Who knew being this scared could feel this good?

  * * * *

  Greg helped Kelly with the paperwork to enter Denny in the swim meet. Later, at home, Kelly called David with the time and date.

  Predictably, he’d be “working” that day and would miss it.

  But he asked if Paulie also had a game. “Maybe I could make that,” he said.

  Kelly hung up on him.

  Denny met the news head-on with a question. “Can Mart come to the meet?”

  “I guess so, honey, if he’s not busy.”

  “Can I call him?”

  “Sure, go ahead.” Kelly punched in Mart’s number and handed the phone to Denny.

  Excited, Denny bounced in his chair. “Mart?” he yelled. “Hi, it’s Denny! Can you come to my swim meet Saturday?…Yeah, it’s at the Y…Eight o’clock. Thank you! Here’s my mom!” Denny thrust the phone at her and wheeled out of the kitchen to find Paulie.

  “Sorry about that. I should have warned you he’s loud on the phone.”

  Mart laughed. “That’s okay. He’s enthusiastic. Yes, I’ll be at the meet.”

  The now-familiar thrill ran through her. She tried to temper it. “It’s not an imposition, is it?”

  “No. I’d love to see him swim. I’ll bring the qualification forms with me. Maybe we can knock out all his swim events.”

  “We don’t know for sure what his classification is.”

  “Once I see him swim, I’ll have a pretty good idea. I don’t do classification, but I can narrow the possibilities. We just need certified results for now.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, arranged to meet the next afternoon so he could practice field with Denny, and said good-bye.

  He was friendly. He was nice.

  He was cute and single and had the most gorgeous eyes.

  And I’m a chicken. Make that a divorced mother hen.

  * * * *

  Denny awoke early Saturday without needing extra prompting from Kelly. They arrived at the Y in plenty of time, and Mart was already on deck talking with Greg. Patty saved her and Paulie a spot at the far end of the pool enclosure. Kelly left Denny with his coaches and went to watch with Patty.

  “How’s Ben?” Kelly asked.

  “Oh, he loves these things, you know that. He’s fired up.” Patty pointed across the pool, and Kelly finally spotted him.

  Mart joined them to watch Denny’s first event. “He’s ready. He’s excited.”

  “What was the confab about?”

  “We wanted to make sure he understood the rules about getting in and out. He’s allowed to start in the pool instead of on the starting blocks, so I wanted to explain how it would work at Nationals.”

  “I’m so nervous!”

  He patted her hand and smiled. “He’ll be fine.”

  She tried to return his smile, but his touch made her more nervous, only in a good way.

  Denny swam well in all his events—freestyle, backstroke, and breaststroke. He didn’t do butterfly, not quite coordinated enough yet to master the proper arm movements. Mart noted his times and had the head official sign off on the sheets. As long as there weren’t any problems with Denny’s classification, he’d swim the twenty-five and fifty meter freestyle and backstroke events, and the twenty-five meter breaststroke at Nationals.

  After the meet, they all went to lunch. Patty leaned over to Kelly while Mart was distracted talking with the three boys.

  “He’s cute.”

  “Hush!”

  “Well, he is.”

  Kelly looked at Patty and smiled, shrugged. Yes, he was handsome.

  He was also Denny’s coach. She wouldn’t do anything to screw that up.

  * * * *

  They met at the park for practice as often as Mart’s schedule allowed. He was frequently out of town on business, trying to wrap up several work projects before summer arrived.

  “I have several races coming up, and Junior Nationals, so I’m trying to cram it all in to take the time off,” he explained.

  Kelly spent most of the practices watching Mart. He even worked with Paulie on his pitching. Mart hadn’t lied about his curveball.

  She spent many post-practice nights lying in bed, thinking about Mart’s eyes, or his arms, or…

  She’d be lying if s
he said she didn’t like him. The more Denny worked with him, the more scared she was to think about asking Mart on a date. Denny loved sports. Even Paulie looked forward to the practices. If she dated Mart and it didn’t work out, it would be too weird. She could never do anything to hurt her boys. Denny needed this normalcy in his life, and she refused to take that away from him.

  It was better to keep her feelings to herself despite the empty ache she felt every time she said good-bye to Mart.

  * * * *

  One evening three weeks after the swim meet, Mart was going over competition details with Kelly in preparation for the upcoming qualification meet in Clermont. Mart forced himself to concentrate around her.

  He still couldn’t bring himself to ask her out. This was never a problem for him before, yet he sensed if he screwed it up he wouldn’t get a second chance with her. Better to wait for the perfect opportunity, let her get to know him better.

  Kelly slumped and shook her head. “How am I ever going to remember all of this? There’s so much to learn.” She watched the boys shooting hoops on the basketball court.

  “I’m not asking you to. You don’t have to remember it.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve been doing this for years. I have to be able to help Denny with practice. Paulie can’t do it all, and I can’t ask you to practice every afternoon.”

  Why not? he wanted to ask. “I’ll show you how easy it is. Come here.”

  “What?”

  He climbed out of his wheelchair and patted the grass in front of him. “Sit. I’ll show you so you can work with Denny.”

  She did, hesitantly. He encouraged her to scoot closer, her back against him.

  He put the shot put in her hand and swallowed hard, trying to control his reactions. The last thing he wanted to do was freak her out. She was so cute, it would be so easy to kiss the back of her neck…

  Focus, Rawlings. Don’t screw this up!

  “Like this.” He helped her position the shot put, his arms around her, hands on hers, guiding her, helping her feel the correct movement. “It needs to be touching his cheek, like this, and his elbow up, like this.”

  The boys were still shooting hoops. He was alone with Kelly.

  “I get it,” she said.

  “Take a practice throw.” He leaned out of her way, and she did.