Keeping Score Read online

Page 5


  “It’s poker night, right?” she asks as she pulls into the visitor parking in front of the building, reading my mind.

  “Yep. At least I know he won’t make a scene in front of his friends.”

  Scoffing, she opens the door and turns to face me. “I can’t say the same thing.”

  And that’s why if we were thirteen and had one of those old-school best friend necklaces, I’d give her the “Be Fri” half. I follow her from the car and to the lobby. Taking a deep breath, she opens the large double glass doors.

  I greet the evening doorman with a smile and slow my pace in case he stops me. Instead, his sympathetic look and nod give me permission to proceed. There’s a chance he’ll call ahead and Jared will expect me, but I hope that he doesn’t. I’d like to have the upper hand in this task.

  We make it to the bank of elevators, and Kendall pushes the Up button. It feels like an eternity as we stand here waiting. I fiddle with the strap of my crossbody and shift on my feet. Kendall reaches over and places her hand atop mine. It’s comforting, and I take a deep breath and exhale as the elevator dings its arrival. The doors open and we step aside, letting an older gentleman exit before stepping through the doors. I lean against the back wall of the elevator while it begins its ascent.

  Memories of the last time I was here play out in my mind. Tears well in my eyes, and I will them away. I’m not sad about my relationship ending or no longer living in this building. I’m frustrated with the loss of years I gave to Jared. To a life and future I thought we were building. No, that’s not true—the future I assumed was the next phase of our relationship.

  When we make it to the fifteenth floor, my heart begins to race. The scene from the last time I was in this building are on repeat in my head. What are the chances poker night is somewhere else tonight? One can hope. Standing before the door, I wonder if using my key would be appropriate. Of course, Jared could have changed the locks, and that would be more embarrassing than being here in the first place.

  Leaning forward, I place my ear next to the door and listen for the sounds of a group of men playing cards. Silence. I look to Kendall, who follows suit and places her ear near the door. With furrowed brows, she mouths, “No poker?” Shrugging, I lift my hand and knock two times.

  “Hang on, I’m coming.”

  Gasping, I look to Kendall, whose wide-eyed expression matches mine. The bimbo is here.

  The door opens, and my head spins quickly, only to confirm my assumption. Maddie stands before us, barefoot and wearing one of Jared’s T-shirts. Her blonde hair is piled on her head in a messy bun. I peer past her shoulder, hoping I’m mistaken, and the room is actually full of men puffing on cigars and scratching their bellies.

  “Can I help you?” Maddie the bimbo flips her hair over her shoulder.

  Thankfully, Kendall pipes up and protectively jumps in front of me to offer an answer. “Uh yeah, we’re here to get Sophie’s things.”

  She rolls her eyes, but then yells for Jared, “Jared! Your bitch ex is here.”

  Is the emphasis on ex really necessary? We all know the status of each of our relationships. If there’s one thing I know, if he cheats with you, he’ll likely cheat on you. That little piece of knowledge helps alleviate the sting of her answering the door.

  Rounding the corner from the bedroom, he appears in only a pair of workout shorts. His abs are highlighted like he just got out of the shower. As little as I feel for him, even I can admit he has a nice body. Too bad he’s always been more interested in his own physique and pleasures and didn’t care about mine.

  “Sophie, what are you doing here?”

  Idiot. Did he not just hear Maddie?

  “I’m here to get my things.” Impressed with the strength in my voice, I lift my chin and straighten my back. Showing nothing but confidence and indifference to the scene before me is the only thing keeping me from jumping on Maddie like a flying squirrel and yanking her extensions out one by one.

  Without a word, Jared turns and disappears past the kitchen. I hear a door open, and I know he’s in the laundry room. Is he seriously going to leave me standing here in the hallway while he gets laundry? I look to Kendall, who is glaring at Maddie like she too would like to rip the fake hair from her head.

  Neither Maddie nor I speak, but Kendall asks one of the many questions in my head. “No poker tonight?”

  Licking her lips and smirking, Maddie says, “Oh, there hasn’t been poker for months. That was just the excuse we used to get rid of you so we could spend time together.”

  Her words hit me like a slap to the face. Before I can retort, the sound of wheels rolling across the hardwood floor pulls my attention from my bestie. Pushing my two suitcases, one with a box balanced on it, Jared stops in front of us.

  “I have no clue if this is everything. Maddie packed it all.” Pushing the rolling suitcases out the door and handing me the box, he doesn’t allow me a response before closing the door.

  “What a dick,” Kendall says. “I wonder if everything is in there?”

  I look in the box and see the frame of a photo with my parents I kept on my side of the bed and the various items I had stored in the closet.

  “It should be. I didn’t have much here. Let’s go.” Needing to get out of here before I cry at the reality that the last five years of my life fit in a box and two suitcases, I take the handle of one and move down the hall to the elevators.

  We load everything into Kendall’s car and head back to her place.

  “Are you okay? Should we stop for something fried?”

  Laughing at her offer, I shake my head and sigh as I look out the passenger window. City lights and the bustling traffic are a blur as the sounds of one of my favorite songs fills the car. Humming along, I don’t push the thoughts in my head away. If I do, I’ll be up all night lost in assumptions, allowing my mind to go in multiple directions. No, I need to work through this. I’ve been telling myself and anyone who asks that I’m fine with our relationship ending. The reality is, I loved Jared, but now I’m questioning when I stopped being in love with him.

  His infidelity hurts. Never once did I consider stepping out on him, let alone bringing someone into our bed. Maybe that’s what hurts most—the fact that while I thought we were building a life, he was creating one with someone else.

  Taking inventory of my feelings, I know that, as humiliating as this is—how devastating it is to find out you’ve been played a fool—I’m not sad this part of my life is over. I’m relieved. It doesn’t take away from what we had, but it confirms we were never going to be together in a forever kind of way.

  In the beginning, we were so in sync. Our paths were on the same trajectory, and we had fun. So much fun. Traveling and experiencing new things was how we spent the first few years of our relationship. Then Jared started with his current agency and never turned back. His focus was on selling, earning his commission. He relished the attention his hard work garnered, and I was proud of him.

  I shouldn’t have expected less. Jared is the son of a highly respected business mogul in the Clarence area. His father would never settle for less than the best from his son. With those expectations come responsibilities for him, and whoever he chooses to marry. I was never going to be that person. Getting dressed up and hanging on Jared’s arm and his every word like it’s gospel isn’t me. I prefer to see life through a camera lens and let others stand in the spotlight.

  When we arrive back at Kendall’s apartment, she immediately goes to the kitchen and pours two glasses of wine. I sit down on the floor, open the suitcases, and begin sorting through my life, mostly clothes thrown in without a care. I do a quick inventory to ensure nothing I care about is missing.

  “What is this?” Kendall asks, holding a pair of underwear that clearly aren’t something I would ever wear. “Please tell me these aren’t yours.” They’re blue with fur on the top and cat whiskers on the front. We both just bust out laughing.

  “No. Those are not mine,” I s
ay through my giggles.

  “Maybe you should mail these back to him,” Kendall suggests as she crosses to her small desk and pulls out a large envelope. Taking a sip from my wine glass, I watch as she begins writing on a piece of stationary before depositing the ridiculous panties into the envelope and sealing it.

  “I don’t want to look it up. What’s Jared’s address?”

  I’m afraid to ask but can’t help myself. “What did you write on that note?”

  She giggles a little, which is honestly scary, before saying, “I wrote, Dear Douchebag, I believe these belong to your blonde bimbo twat waffle.”

  When we finally catch our breath from laughing, I yawn and kick the suitcases out of the way. Climbing onto the couch, I tuck my feet beneath me and sip on my wine, when I remember I never told Kendall about the tickets.

  “Oh my gosh! I forgot to tell you.” Motioning for me to continue while she takes more than a sip of her own wine, Kendall raises her eyebrows. “Guess what I got today.”

  “What?” she asks.

  “Two tickets to next Saturday’s Aces game.”

  Not a baseball fan, she doesn’t bother to feign much interest and stretches her legs out in front of her.

  “Oh, that’s cool,” she mumbles.

  “From Braxton Lee.”

  That piques her interest.

  “Really? Holy shit, dude. Tell. Me. Everything.” Twisting her body, she shakes with anticipation.

  A jolt of excitement hits me as I smile and bite my lip before responding. “I was at the office, and this kid came strolling up to my cubbie and handed me an envelope. When I opened it, there was a note and two tickets.”

  “A note? What did it say? How much he loved your ass?”

  Choking at her response, I smack her. “No. It was an apology for being a jerk at the shoot and at dinner the other night. I guess sort of a peace offering.”

  Yawning again, she says, “Good. I’m glad he apologized. Besides, he’s probably afraid you’ll age him in the photos or add a potbelly.”

  Giggling at the thought, I stand and hold my hand out for her empty glass. Instead, Kendall follows me to the kitchen, where we both place our empty glasses in the sink.

  “I assume you’re taking your dad?” Kendall knows all about my dad’s love of the Aces.

  “Yup, he’s excited. Even giving up his bro night with Jack Ryan.”

  We both laugh, then yawn at the same time. “I think I’m going to call it a night. Tonight was a lot.”

  “It was. Let’s focus on the positive. You have a new apartment, which means we get to go shopping!”

  “I already put a bunch of stuff in my online cart. Now that I found a place, I can actually hit purchase.”

  Ignoring her pout on a missed shopping excursion, I pad my way through the apartment to the bedroom and begin my nightly routine. When we’re both settled into her bed and the light is off, I whisper, “Thanks for tonight. Really, for everything.”

  “You’re welcome, Soph.” She yawns again. “Love you.”

  “Love you too, Ken.”

  This has been an emotional and exhausting day. I let the relief that I’ve put this all behind me wash over me as I welcome sleep. This next chapter of my life is going to be different.

  8

  * * *

  SOPHIE

  It’s game day, and I feel like a toddler on Christmas morning. This isn’t just a day to hang with my dad; it’s also the first time we’ve been to a game since my mom died. Ballgames were always our thing, and my mom encouraged us to go to as many as possible. Memories of the last morning of her life play through my mind as I wait for my dad to arrive.

  It was like any other morning. Sitting at the kitchen table, eating her granola with skim milk and enjoying a cup of coffee, she was engrossed in her favorite mystery novel. If I close my eyes, I can hear the sound of her spoon scraping the bottom of the bowl. The way her giggles filled the room as my dad swooped in to place a series of kisses to her neck.

  Wiping a tear from my eye, I wash the dishes in the sink from Kendall’s and my late-night nacho fest. I welcome the memories of my mom; my biggest fear is forgetting her. But I don’t want my dad to show up here with me a hot mess.

  Closing my eyes, I remember the last words we spoke that day. The way she held me to her, a hug that only a mom can give her only child as she said, “Sophie, I am so proud of you. I love that you share these moments with your daddy. Have fun today, and if you catch a foul ball, make sure you get it signed. Love you, baby.” I had no way of knowing that while my dad and I cheered on our favorite team, she was in a multi-car accident that left her clinging to life. By the time we made it to the hospital, it was too late. She’d died. Alone.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I shake off the memories and splash a little water on my face just as there’s a knock at the door. Drying my hands, I quickly hang the dishtowel on the oven handle and grab my crossbody before answering the door.

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Hi, honey.” My dad’s hugs are the best, and I melt into him, savoring the feeling. After a few seconds of comfort, I pull away and take a step back. “Do you want to come inside?”

  “We should probably head out if we’re going to grab a bite to eat first.”

  Nodding, I step across the threshold and close the door behind me, locking the deadbolt and following him down the steps toward his truck. We catch up on the drive to the bar and grill across the street from the ballpark. Dad pulls into a parking lot that we can pay for the entire night and not deal with all the traffic in the stadium’s parking.

  Once we’ve placed our orders—a burger for dad and fish and chips for myself—we settle into more conversation, avoiding the topic of my breakup with Jared but not the elephant in the room: Going to a game.

  “Dad, remember when you brought me to my first game?”

  “Yeah, you were about four years old. Your mom decked you out in Aces gear with the cutest little piggy tails complete with red bows.” He looks off as if he’s completely taken back to that day.

  “Dad, I miss her too.”

  He just looks at me and smiles, trying to hide the ache of the loss he’s never been able to overcome. “I know, sweetheart. I just wish she were here to see you all grown up, living your dream of being a photographer.”

  I just nod. The pain of losing my mom in high school will never go away.

  I change the subject and regale my dad with the adventures of apartment hunting and Kendall’s swift move of finding me a place in her complex. Tomorrow, I am officially moving into my own place, and while I’m a nervous, I’m also excited.

  By the time our food arrives, we’ve moved on to the Aces, their current roster, and tonight’s game.

  “All right, let’s get you out to the ballpark,” Dad says as he signs his name on the credit card slip plus cash, making it an extra good tip. My dad has always been a good tipper; it’s something he prides himself on and a value he’s instilled in me. Even when the service isn’t great, Dad still leaves more than what is recommended. He considers those working in the service industry the least compensated and the hardest workers.

  The stadium isn’t far, and we fall in line with the masses and make our way to the gate. Once we’re inside, we meander through the concessions and memorabilia stands. I wave Dad off as he offers to buy me a T-shirt like when I was a kid and instead accept his offer of a beer. Times sure have changed since I was younger.

  Our tickets aren’t VIP or anything, but they are better than any seats we’ve had in the past. We’re literally right above the Aces’ dugout. First base is directly in front of us. Which means Braxton will be in front of us. In his baseball pants.

  “Whoa, you really scored with these seats.”

  “Yeah, I did.” I smile and ignore the flutters in my belly at how amazing of an apology this is.

  Braxton Lee has officially moved on from jerk to pretty cool guy. I’m not quite ready to declare him forgiven. We’ll see
if he pulls out a win, making the night perfect. He had no way of knowing how much of a baseball fan I am or that this night would mean so much to both my dad and me.

  As the players begin to take the field, I see Braxton jog across the infield and take his place at first base. Since he has to wait for the other players to get to their spots on the field before they do a couple of warmup throws, he turns and looks in our direction. The moment our eyes meet, his face breaks out into a huge smile. I give him a smile of my own, the flutters returning. His eyes shoot to my dad, and he nods in acknowledgement.

  After our short greeting, he focuses back on the field, and Dad and I settle into our seats. The seats around us fill, and the crowd noise intensifies. Adrenaline courses through my veins and, like riding a bike, Dad and I fall into our old routine of cheering and high-fiving as the announcements are made.

  The crack of the bat is like a salve to my heart, healing the pieces that broke long ago when we lost mom. The first batter hits a ground ball straight to the second baseman. Idiot. He’s tagged out before he’s two-thirds of the way to first base. The rest of the inning pretty much goes the exact same way. The Aces don’t let a single opponent make it home.

  Dad and I jump and cheer with the rest of the crowd as the fourth batter hits a flyball directly to center field. It’s caught, and the teams switch.

  Since Dad is driving, I indulge in a few more beers and, of course, peanuts as the game continues on. I’ve been spoiled by these seats, and I doubt I’ll ever be able to return to the nosebleeds. Seeing my dad this happy fills my heart, and I’ll need to send Braxton a very nice thank you for making this a reality.

  We stay for the entire game, cheering on the Aces and celebrating with the crowd when they pull out a win. Like a flock of sheep, we fall in line with everyone else and make our way back across the street to Dad’s truck.

  Our drive back to Kendall’s isn’t as chatter-filled as it was earlier, the late night catching up with me. Once we arrive at the apartment, we hug and promise to make this happen more often, especially if I can score awesome seats again. I may or may not pretend something is in my eye as we say goodbye. I love my dad and really need to make a point to see him more.