A Million Miles Apart (Wish 4)

9 - Past stay in the past

Ben looked at the caller ID on his buzzing phone. The only reason she was in his contacts was so he would know when she called. He never called her and didn't answer, because he didn't want to listen to anything his mother had to say. She must need money, because it was the only time she made contact.

Ben gave Jett and Kenze a hard time about their son, but he was his nephew and he loved him. His mother had never once cared she had a grandson. She tried to get an invitation to Kenzie's wedding, but Jett threatened to call the police if she showed up. Ben figured it was just as well. She would have stolen all the gift checks written to Jett's charity, not the happy couple.

The team was playing in New York and Ben had returned to the hotel after their Saturday afternoon game. Jett went to his room to talk with Kenzie and his kids, but Ben was hungry. He was thinking about what he wanted to eat when he entered the hotel bar and looked around. He froze. She was sitting on a chair with her crossed leg swinging.

He walked over and glared at her. "What do you want?" His voice was so cold it gave him a chill.

"To see my son. I'm so proud of you. You had a great game." He had three hits and scored two runs, but he didn't want to talk about his game. "Your father wasn't half as good as you."

"Don't talk about my father. He is my dad and coach and the greatest man I know!"

"Saint Sean! So perfect, the man was a washout."

"I will not listen to you."

She waved her hand as if to dismiss him and his praise of his father. He hadn't seen her in three years, and she definitely had some work done. He wondered what man paid for her surgeries, not that he really cared.

Ben looked around. A few of his teammates were sitting at a table together. He didn't want to explain who she was.

"Can't we share a meal? Mother and son, just like old times."

Ben coughed. He had no memory of ever sharing a meal with her. He imagined at some point she must have spooned baby food into his mouth. For most of his life, she was nobody, and she still would be if he had washed up in the minor leagues.

"Why are you in New York?"

"To see you."

He could ask her why, but he knew the answer. It was always the same — money.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jett enter the room. He didn't have to turn his head to know Jett was walking towards him. His brother-in-law had met the woman once, and it was once too many, so the hard look on his face didn't surprise Ben.

"What is she doing here?" Jett's voice was sharp.

Ben shrugged. "Lying. I'm sure." He turned to his mother. "Where's your latest husband?"

"I'm not discussing my private life in front of him." She pointed at Jett.

"He's family. You know he's your son-in-law and the father of your grandson."

Jett put his hand on Ben's shoulder. "Thanks, but Betsy is my children's grandmother."

She scoffed at the mention of Coach's wife. "You've had more husbands than I have fingers, and you have a problem with my father marrying after years of being alone while he raised us."

"Ben come on, let's eat. She's not worth your time."

Jett followed Ben to a table for two. He didn't need the guys to question him. It was obvious he wasn't talking to a fan. If she was a fan, Sloane would be tame. Ben sat with a thud and grabbed the menu abruptly.

"Don't let her win by getting angry."

"I know how to handle her. You just look out for Kenzie."

As he studied his menu, she stood and left. He knew she'd be back. There was a reason she had resurfaced.

Ben had barely had a chance to relax in his room when his phone started buzzing. He sighed when he looked at the screen.

"Hey, Kenzie. I'm guessing you heard."

"Why is she back?"

"Why else? She wants money."

"Did she ask you for money?"

"No, I'm sure she'll come around again."

"I don't want her near my kids."

"You know Jett won't let her. I have it under control. How are you?"

"Great! I had a pleasant lunch with Sloane today. You have a lot in common."

"I don't think so."

"You do. You know she doesn't want kids either."

"So, that makes us right for each other?"

"Well, she's nice and beautiful. Do you think she's beautiful?"

She was definitely nice to look at and he even fantasized about her legs, but it didn't mean he liked her. He had too many women in his past to remind him he couldn't trust women. The last time he liked one of Kenzie's friends, it had ended in disaster. Kenzie never pushed him, and he had fallen for her on his own. If only she could have waited until he was ready for her. He shook his head, hoping to dislodge the memories from his conscious. Why couldn't the past stay in the past? Maybe his mother's visit helped to dredge it all up. In the end, she was no different from his mother, always pleading for money.

The memory wasn't going away. He saw snippets — blond hair blowing in the breeze, a smile with one crooked eye tooth, the joy over catching a fly. All of those memories were so much better than the one that came later, starting with the look on her face when he devastated her.

"Come on, Benjy. Can you really deny she's pretty?" Kenzie could nag better than her kid.

"She's pretty, but she's still a fan."

"Please, she wears more expensive clothes than me."

"Yeah, because she has a decent job and lives with her parents. She probably still sleeps in her twin bed with posters on the wall."

"Somehow I doubt that, but whatever. I'm going to keep hanging out with her so you better get used to it."

"Kenze, I'm tired. Goodnight." He dismissed her.

They returned from their road trip for a weekend series at home. Ben was in a little slump and hadn't had a hit in three games. He had hoped returning home would make a difference, but he only managed one hit in two games. Overthinking it would make it worse, so he had spent Sunday morning with the hitting coach to help him make some adjustments.

On Sunday, as he walked to the plate for his first appearance, he heard his name. "You can do it, Benjy! You've got this, Benjy!"

He looked towards the voice and it surprised him to see who it belonged to. Sloane was there, sitting in premium seats right behind home plate. He wondered who she made friends with to score those tickets. He couldn't shake her. He wondered if his sister was responsible for Sloane sitting there. By the time he was ready to face his first pitch, he felt pissed off. The ball came sailing towards him and he swung the bat. He hit the ball with such force it flew out of the park. He had hit a home run, and it was all Sloane's fault which pissed him off even more.

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