The Last Bridge Home. Linda Goodnight
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A noise erupted in the kitchen. Zak whirled like a cornered tiger. With Jilly following, he loped into the kitchen.
“Put those down,” Zak demanded.
Jake howled like a wolf while he and Brandon wrestled over Zak’s Chips Ahoy! They paid no attention to the two adults in the room.
The yowling escalated.
Zak collared them both, one in each strong hand. The arm muscles he’d developed for baseball easily overcame the small boys. “Cut it out, you two. Your mother is asleep.”
Brandon dropped the bag. Zak dropped the boys in favor of the cookies. “If you’re hungry say so, but don’t fight. Just tell me.”
Both boys looked stricken. The youngest popped a thumb into his mouth.
“Looks like you’ve got your hands full.” Jilly looked around the messy kitchen. Zak was a neat freak, compliments of his firefighter job. A place for everything and everything in its place. Not so today.
Zak groaned. “Bases loaded. No outs. A-Rod at the plate and my arm is spaghetti.”
If she hadn’t known Zak for years, she’d be lost in his baseball jargon. But she heard him loud and clear. He was in over his head.
She went to the fridge and pulled out baloney and cheese. “You, kids, go wash your faces and hands. Sandwiches coming up.”
The pair dashed out of the kitchen.
Zak wilted against the refrigerator door. “They’re here three hours and I’m out of my mind. I can’t do this.”
She didn’t bother to remind him that he already had. “What’s the plan?”
“I’m looking for alternatives—anything—but I can’t do much until Tuesday. I’m on twenty-four-hour shift tomorrow. Maybe I can make some calls then if we’re not too busy. Until then…” He shrugged.
She resisted the urge to offer assistance. This was Zak’s situation. He should make the calls. He should decide how all this would play out. “How’s Crystal?”
“She’s been asleep since they got here.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Those kids are wild. They’re into everything and they don’t bother to ask permission. They do what they want.”
“I guess she hasn’t had the energy for discipline.”
He slid into a chair and banged his head on the tabletop. “I told you I’m not cut out for this.”
Bella, sitting on the floor next to the back door, giggled. Jilly patted his back, feeling sorry for him while wondering if she should even be here with a man whose wife was in the other room. Something about that seemed inappropriate. “Mom’s making dinner. I have to go.”
He lifted his face, looking really pitiful. “Can I go with you?”
Two days ago, she’d have loved that question and would have jumped at the chance to spend Sunday afternoon with him. “Sure.”
“Can’t. I have to figure out why my life exploded and how to get it back.”
She’d known he would say that. Crystal’s arrival had changed everything, from Zak’s lifestyle to the dynamics of a neighborly friendship.
Finished making three sandwiches, Jilly wiped her hands and started toward the door.
“Aren’t you going to change Bella?” Zak’s expression was desperate.
“Oh, right. Come here, precious,” she said, taking the girl by the hand. Bella’s diaper, the plastic dirty from sitting outside, sagged. “Where are the clean diapers?”
He pointed to a plastic shopping bag on the end of the counter. “I made a diaper run this morning. Crystal ran out.”
Jilly found the package and worked her magic, thankful for the times she’d babysat her nephews. “We sometimes put diapers on dogs at the clinic. They work just like this. We use them on squirrels and raccoons, too. Little tiny ones.”
Her effort to make him smile failed.
She stood the child on her feet and discarded the soiled diaper. “Don’t you have a game today?”
He jerked away from the table, eyes wide. “What time is it?”
“Mom and I stopped at the store after church, so it’s probably close to two.”
Zak yanked his cell phone from a pocket and glared at the screen. “Oh, man, look at that. Six messages.”
Jilly came up behind his chair and leaned in. “Why didn’t you hear them ring?”
“Too much going on, I guess.” He whopped his forehead with the phone. “How could I forget? This was an important game. I was supposed to pitch.”
“Is it too late?”
“Yeah, it’s too late. Look at that. Smitty texted me six times.”
Jilly read aloud as he scrolled through the texts, one at a time. “Where are you, dude? You’re pitching. Are you coming? We’re doomed. Taylor’s pitching. Batter up. Dude, where are you?”
Zak stroked his left arm. “My arm feels better than it’s felt since college. I was so ready. How could I have forgotten?”
She’d watched him last night in his backyard, firing fast balls through the center of a tire hung from a limb of the giant ash tree. He was smoking hot and deadly accurate. She had always wondered why he hadn’t made it into the pros.
“Was this a big game?” she asked, aware that any game was important to a baseball junky like Zak. “For a particular reason, I mean.”
“Yeah, a tournament in Tulsa.” Shoulders stooped, he pushed up from the chair and stared blindly out into the backyard. “The all-star committee is supposed to be there.”
Her sympathy gene kicked in. Baseball was the love of Zak’s life. In season and out, he lived and breathed it, played and studied it. The dream of playing professionally still lingered.
“The all-star committee?”
“They’re putting together a state exhibition team to play around the region. I want on it.”
“Was this the last chance?”
“I don’t know.” He took a milk carton from the fridge, popped open the spout and took a swig. Wearing a milk mustache, he said, “I can’t believe I forgot about a game this important.”
“You’ve had a lot on your mind. Once you figure out exactly what’s needed with Crystal and the kids, this should get easier.”
“I keep telling myself that, but only a few hours in and I think I’m lying.” He took another swig of milk. Funny how a guy could do that and look appealing.
The two boys came back in, faces shiny clean. Jilly handed each a sandwich. Baloney in possession, they turned and started toward the living room. Jilly stopped them with a hand on each shoulder. “Sit down at the table to eat, so you don’t make a big mess. You want some milk?”
“Oops.” Zak looked sheepishly at the milk carton. “Bad habits of a bachelor. You think they’ll mind?”
Both boys said “No” at the same time. Jilly figured they never refused anything to eat or drink. She plucked the carton from Zak’s fingers and poured each child a glass.
“You’re out of milk,” she said.
Zak made a face, then lifted Bella onto a chair. Her pixie face barely peeked over the table but both chubby hands reached up and took the halved sandwich. The baloney and bread disappeared below the plane of the table.
Jilly helped Zak put away the sandwich fixings, secretly glad for a reason