“Laney, you’re safe here. I’m not trying to seduce you, I promise. If one more glass would make you feel better, have one.”
It only takes her a few seconds to think about it. “Okay. One more, please. It really is helping me relax.”
I go get her another glass of wine, and when I return, she asks me what time it is. I know she needs her rest because of school in the morning. “Just after one, what time’s your first class tomorrow?”
“I’m not going,” she gushes.
“Well, while one day of missing won’t ruin you, I’m more interested in why you’re not going. Won’t you get in trouble with your coach?’
“No, not over one absence, as long as I’m at practice; or I could say I’m sick. I don’t know. I don’t even know if I’m staying. I was serious before. I could just say to hell with it and go home, right?”
I’m not sure if she’s asking me or asking herself out loud, but I can see she’s getting herself worked up again, and I definitely don’t want that, nor do I want her to leave. I want her in my house, in my care. I never bring girls here and yet this girl...I’d give her a key right now if I thought she’d take it. I’d give Laney the key to a lot of things.
“Ya, Laney, you could quit, but you don’t strike me as a quitter. You could also stay and be great. It’s up to you though. What do you want?”
“Maybe that’s my problem. I’m not 100% on anything. You know what I mean?”
“Not yet, keep talking.”
She proceeds to tell me about ball, how she’s not sure if she plays for herself or her dad, how she’s not sure if it really feels like a chore or she’s just telling herself that. But then, the more she talks, the more her eyes sparkle and I can see she loves it. She loves coming out on top of the pitcher, she loves how she feels when she knows she’s got it on point, sending it over the fence. So I tell her what I see when she speaks, and she agrees she needs to give ball just a little more time.
That means I have to take her to practice tomorrow late afternoon, but until then, she’s here with me and I can’t even comprehend what that does to me inside. One thing she said earlier really bothered me, though, and I have to know, the thought of this exquisite creature being unsafe makes me ill. I knew she was guarded the minute I met her, and I want to know why.
“Laney, can you tell me what you meant earlier about a stalker and a head in a box?”
Her expression completely changes to cold and hesitant. “It’s nothing; I was being a drama queen when I said it.”
“Explain it to me anyway.” The sternness in my voice lets her know I’m serious. I’m not conceding on this.
“Just every once in a while I get a card or a note or gift from like a secret admirer. They never say anything mean or threatening, they’re actually always complimentary. And the arrivals are sporadic, have been for years. Evan knows about it, but that’s it. I got a card when I first started at Southern, that was the last thing.”
“I’m not sure that’s something to take lightly, Laney. I’m glad I know now, and I’m really glad I took you to a self-defense class.” Wow—what are the odds? The anger I feel that Evan knows about it shocks me. Of course I’m glad he knows and has undoubtedly looked out for her. But why do I feel like it’s now my job and I don’t need his help?
“I know, I thought the same thing. You should take up gambling.”
Oh, I guess I said the odds part out loud. I have to admit, as uneasy as this whole discovery makes me, I feel a small twinge of something. I read her correctly and gave her something meaningful.
“Anyway, let’s talk about something else.” She waves her glass in the air to dismiss the topic, and I’ll let her think we’re moving on, for now. I don’t want to pressure her into shutting down on me, but I’m not done with the issue.
And then I go for it; I ask her to tell me more about Evan. I’m not sure I can hear her talk about him, but I have to know precisely what I’m up against.
When she talks of him, there’s such love and respect in her eyes. She truly cares about this guy. She honestly shudders at the thought of hurting him; he’s one lucky son of a bitch. But then a tear rolls down her face when she tells me again about not talking to him and she’s afraid they even lost the friendship, and I want to hurt him now—he made her cry. I wonder if she’s not in love with him, but rather simply loves him. I’m sad she’s hurting, but this gives me another flash of hope.
The next thing she says makes me happy to be alive. “And then there’s, well....”
“What else, Laney?”
“I barely know you, but I enjoy being around you and I’m not sure it’s as innocent as I tell myself it is, or if that’s okay. I almost feel guilty, like I’m doing something wrong to Evan, but I’m not really. Do you understand at all?”
I’ve never even close to loved anyone other than family, but God knows I like hearing her say she’s feeling something about me, whatever it is.