3


Nicholas Alan Blake grew up in a small town just south of Cincinnati, Ohio. Because it was south, that meant that he lived in Kentucky, which, by the ripe old age of ten, he despised. He went to a private school in Cincinnati, and the kids incessantly called him a country bumpkin, among other things. But that was O.K., it only made him tougher. His mother always told him that the other kids were jealous because he lived on so much land with horses, and his very own lake to swim in. He didn’t care, he just wanted to be one of the guys, so he developed his scowling “I don’t give a shit what you think” attitude that actually drove all the prissy girls crazy. He soon became the most popular boy in the fourth grade, which really grossed him out. All he wanted to do was play sports; he really didn’t like all that girlie attention. He wanted to be a famous football player like Joe Namath or Terry Bradshaw. He wasn’t that good at it, though. Every time his dad threw the ball at him, he couldn’t keep it in his little hands. Then his dad bought him a baseball glove. He ate, slept and went to church attached to that glove. It had become an extension of his arm, and he really knew how to keep his eye on that little white ball that he had become to love so much. Baseball became his best friend and his first love all at the same time. When he was thirteen, his dad got a promotion, and they moved to Lexington where his new office was. His mother was so happy because they were able to buy a thoroughbred farm complete with the white wooden fences and a big statue of a running horse at the entrance gates. Nick hated it all the way out there and only wanted to move away so that he could play ball for New York, or maybe Chicago. He went to a Red’s game whenever his dad could steal the time to drive up to Cincinnati, but that just wasn’t good enough. He needed more. One evening, when he and his dad had returned from a day game against the Mets, they came home to his mother and a gentleman friend of hers engaging in more than just pleasant conversation. Nick was devastated, and would never forgive his mother for betraying them. His little sister was crying in her room, and Nick went to make sure that she was all right. She was only two years old and he was pretty sure that she was too young to understand what was happening. When he got to the door, he realized that the door had been locked from the outside. What if something had happened to her? What if she had choked on a toy, or climbed out of her crib and fell? While his mother was in bed with another man, his sweet little sister was left to fend for herself! He screamed for his father, and when he didn’t come right away, he threw himself against the door. When his dad got to the door, it was splintered in two, and his son was holding his little girl, both of them crying. He packed the kids up and left for the airport the very next morning. Nick never went back to Kentucky after that day. He grew up at that moment of discovery. He became the other parent to his sister, and the caretaker of their new home in Seattle. His father’s company had transferred him to their corporate office without question. That’s when he met Justin and Caroline Stone. They were the twins who lived a block away. They were a year younger than he was, and they carpooled to Seattle Prep together. Nick had begun to give up on his dreams to be in the big leagues. He was now resigned to be a goddamned housewife at what should be the best time of his life! He was, after all, a teenager with needs! One of which, was Caroline Stone. She was so pretty, and soft, and sweet, and she was going to be his first kiss, he just knew it, and he felt all funny inside. He didn’t ever want that funny feeling to go away.

Nick curled his lips up into a small personal smile as he thought about Caroline. As he remembered their first kiss together, he couldn’t help but feel the pang of guilt that he would always carry with him where she was concerned. Thank God Justin didn’t still carry his anger the way Nick carried that guilt. God love Justin and his big, albeit gay heart. He reminded himself to invite him over for dinner sometime this week, if he didn’t go to Palm Desert, of course. He turned the corner wondering why he was suddenly feeling so damned nostalgic. He was truly pissed just five minutes ago, for Christ’s sake! Damned foolish girl. Now he wished he had gotten his keys after all. He hailed a cab and headed for Frankie’s. He wasn’t going to be able to make an appearance at the bar tonight; he had other things in mind. She would just have to get over it, is all. Tonight he would set Grace straight about some things. What things, he surely didn’t know, but he knew that she needed a good straightening. He would figure it out later. What the hell was he thinking about? He was so incredibly unsure of himself! Perhaps he should help Frankie out after all, and he would send her to meet Grace and get his keys. That’s exactly what he’d do. That’ll show her how little she interested him. Good plan, my man, good fucking plan.
He arrived at the bar at noon, and Frankie was in the office doing the books from the night before.
“Hey, Frank. I’m gonna have to ask a favor tonight, O.K? I need you to go to Cutters at Pike Place Market and get my keys from this woman at five o’clock. Can you do it?” He waited with baited breath. She hadn’t forgiven him for tricking her into meeting her ex-boyfriend last night, and he really didn’t think that she would agree to help him any time soon. After a few seconds of silence, he continued. “O.K, so I guess I can’t come in tonight, I really need to get my keys, or I’m locked out of my house. See ya shortstop.”
“Wait! Wait right there, big shot! If you think I’m gonna go get your keys from some dumb bimbo because you’re too mortified that you actually slept with her last night, not to mention what you did to me, your fucking crazy!”
“What did I tell you about that mouth of yours? That is so unattractive, and you’re above that kind of talk, Frankie.”
“I talk like I was taught, Nick. Forget it. You need to clean up your own messes. And you better be back here to help me close, I’ve been here since nine this morning.” Yep, she was still pissed. Shit, he was set on not having to meet this annoying woman tonight.
“Thanks a lot. I’ll remember this; some thanks for raising you when I should have been playing little league.”
“It would have ended the same way, big shot. Now get out of here. I have some interviews today. God knows I need a real bartender behind this bar.”
“Ouch!” As if. She loved him because he’s free publicity. He’s being used even by his own flesh and blood! He left her to her work and sauntered down the beach in search of the perfect cup of coffee.

Grace lifted her shirt up to wipe off the nonfat vanilla latte that she spilled on it moments before. As she patted the stain, she wondered why Nick didn’t just go back and get his keys. She certainly didn’t have time to meet him at the bar tonight. He was so mean and cocky, she wouldn’t go even if she could. How could he be so nice and charming in the bar, and so infuriating outside of it? Well, she had been humiliated not once, but twice in public because of him! She had half a mind to write a column about it for the magazine. Didn’t he realize that she could destroy his already tarnished reputation? Something was up his ass, and the writer in her wanted to find out what, but the woman in her knew that he wasn’t worth it. Nobody was worth his blatant disrespect for women. She rose from her chair and walked along the beach to gather her thoughts for her interview tomorrow. She heard that Danny McNeil was quite a gentleman according to some of the local gossip. You didn’t have to go far from the stadium to hear the girls chattering excitedly about him. This could be fun, she thought. Indeed he was too young for her, but how does one define too young, anyway? She couldn’t believe she was actually having this conversation with herself. She smirked at the thought of it all and got into her car. In front of her, Nick crossed the street. Neither saw the other.