I flinched, my shield crumbling under the combination of her venom and the continued stares. A single tear leaked out, and I dashed it away only for a second to quickly follow. I stood, intent on running away to bawl in the privacy of my vehicle, but a firm grip around my wrist stopped me.
I looked down, blinking to see through the blur in my eyes. Garrett had a hand around me, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at Tristan, and he was radiating with fury.
“You may not care about actually watching your children do something they enjoy, but we’re here to watch the game. Remove yourselves so we can do so.”
She pulled back, verbally exhaling, like she couldn’t believe he’d actually told her to leave. But Garrett didn’t give a shit. If anything, his gaze grew even harder as he leaned forward. “Now.”
The idiot still looked ready to fight, but Carolyn suddenly shoved into her shoulder, muttering who knows what in her ear. Tristan made sure to shoot me one final condemning look, but she listened, getting up and sashaying away with her nose in the air.
It didn’t matter to me whether she’d left or not. I didn’t want to be there anymore, but the hand around my wrist refused to loosen, tugging me back down to the bleacher.
“I’m sorry, Maddie.”
I twisted toward him so fast, I was surprised I didn’t get whiplash. No one called me Maddie. I’d demanded my family switch to Mads back in middle school because I’d thought Maddie sounded like a kid’s name. So why did it sound like fucking sex on a stick coming from Garrett’s mouth?
“What,” I swallowed, wiping more rogue tears away. “What do you possibly have to apologize for? I’m the one who embarrassed you.”
He slid his hand from my wrist to my palm and clasped his fingers around mine. His eyes were still pulsing with anger as he looked down at my tear-streaked face.
“I should have stopped it before it got that ugly.” He cursed, holding my hand tighter, “I was afraid of saying something to that woman that I couldn’t take back, and even more afraid I’d do something that would fall poorly on you or Jamie with the school.”
I was barely breathing at that point, staring up into his eyes and losing myself in the knowledge he’d felt that way on my behalf. The idea of having someone—especially him—in my corner, was intoxicating.
“What were you afraid you’d do to her?” I whispered.
He leaned down until we were almost sharing breath, “Honestly? I wanted to slap her in the face with my wiener.”
I blinked, speechless, until he slowly raised his free hand. I glanced down to see the still-foiled hot dog, flattened like he’d squeezed the ever-loving hell out of it, and I lost it. I laughed so hard a high-pitched, piglet snort escaped me, and my stomach muscles screamed in protest. And then Garrett’s baritone laughter was joining me.
We sat there, with who knows how many people watching us, dying over the fact that he’d suffocated his wiener trying not to pummel a woman with it.
More tears dripped down my face, and they felt good. With each laughter-induced tear that fell, my lungs expanded farther, and my heart settled. Looking up at this man, each of us fighting to control ourselves, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed hard enough to cry.
We sat shoulder to shoulder, still holding hands while we watched the last quarter of the game. It didn’t feel weird or romantic, just comfortable, and a nagging whisper in the back of my head told me I could get used to it.
“Does she bother you often?”
“No. With my work schedule I can never attend school events, so I rarely see her or any of the other parents. But to answer the follow-up question I’m sure you want to ask, yes, she is always like that when I do. Although, usually she sticks to passive-aggressive comments. I may have poked the embers a bit today.”
“All because she disapproves of your age? Isn’t it a religious school?”
“Yes and no. The age I got pregnant bothers all the parents I’ve met, but it’s that combined with me being, not only single, but single and divorced. It’s a three strikes and you’re out club, so I never even made it through orientation.” I shrugged.
After eight years, I still sometimes struggled to bear people’s judgmental comments, but I also knew I wasn’t missing out by being excluded from their circles. I had no desire to befriend people like that anyway.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
“You just told me you wanted to wiener whip a lady. I think we’re past the point of needing permission to ask questions.”
He laughed, deep and full, and butterflies took off in every fucking direction, making me lightheaded. “Point taken.” Sobering, he asked, “What made you and Jamie’s father divorce?”
I tensed, my immediate knee-jerk reaction being to jump ship and not answer. But we’d basically just traded imaginary friendship bracelets, so he deserved the truth. I pulled my hand away, trying not to read too much into the way his fingers clenched the empty air.
“My ex-husband, Aaron, the one you met? He’s not Jamie’s dad.”
His eyebrows shot up, not necessarily in shock but rather mild surprise, which I’d expected. He’d already hinted once before that he assumed them to be one and the same.
“When I was sixteen, I dated a guy who was four years older than me. We were together less than a year before we broke up, and then I found out I was nine weeks pregnant. I was seventeen by the time I gave birth. He was twenty-one. In the state of Kansas, I was of legal age to consent, but it obviously didn’t go over well with my family.”
I laughed humorlessly, watching my son chase the ball and successfully steal it from an opponent.
“He’d always been controlling, telling me what to wear, how to act, making me straighten my hair and wear certain makeup. But he got nasty during my pregnancy and started following me around and obsessively calling my phone.” I looked down, distracting myself with pushing back my cuticles.
“In the end, my parents threatened to put a restraining order on him, and I was induced at the hospital under an anonymous name. We even tried to get his parental rights removed. It was denied, but the court ruled he had to attend parenting classes and anger management before he could have non-supervised visitation with Jamie.”
“And did he?” he asked, his tone indicating he already knew the answer.
“No. He disappeared soon after when he realized he had no control over me or Jamie. I haven’t heard from him since. I don’t regret any of it because it gave me Jamie, but the guy was just a nameless sperm donor. Nothing else. And I’m finally at a point in my life where I’m okay with that.”
“That’s a lot to go through at such a young age.”
I nodded absently, chewing the inside of my lip and feeling uncomfortable. “Anyway, I’d already known my ex-husband through mutual friends during all of that, and we eventually eloped when I turned 18. The rest you know.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Like I said, my plane is packed the fuck full.” I stood, gathering up my purse and trash. “Let’s go, it looks like the game’s over.”
I felt bad for how little I’d actually paid attention. If it wasn’t for the scoreboard, I wouldn’t even know they’d won. But when it was all said and done, it didn’t matter. The look on Jamie’s face when he saw Garrett and me standing near the field was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. He hugged me so hard, I almost popped an ovary, but I hugged him back, congratulating him on the team’s win.
When I turned, Garrett had approached my parents and was shaking my dad’s hand, introducing himself. My conveniently timed indigestion reared its head at the sight.
There was a pull on my arm, “Grandpa said we could go get frozen yogurt after the game.”
“Did he now?”
I should say no. None of us had consumed anything remotely resembling healthy food today, but I figured go big or go home, right? Jamie had won his game after all. I may not have paid attention, but a win was a win, and we could celebrate it.
Turning to see both my dad and Garrett looking over at us, I offered a goofy smile. “Apparently, we’re going out for frozen yogurt, would you like to join us, Garrett?”