Free Leave Yesterday Behind by Lauren Linwood Page B

uncomfortable. Knowing and yet not knowing him at the same time.
    Eric and Gretchen strolled down to them. Wolf broke away and began to run in circles, barking excitedly. Callie stood. Her side pained her because she rose too quickly. The long row of fresh scars caught fire, but her training kicked in. Anyone looking at her would see only a bland look on her face, never knowing the agony she experienced.
    Eric slapped the man on the back and shook his hand.
    “Ladies, I’d like to introduce you to my worthless excuse for a cousin, Nick La Chappelle. Cal, you might have met him when he visited with his mom.”
    The minute she heard his full name, Callie realized who he was. He was the guy from that summer . She’d been a gawky teen, who hadn’t yet blossomed into the beauty who started in commercials at age twenty. No way would he recognize her.
    She remembered hearing through the school grapevine that the Dodgers drafted him straight out of high school. Pam passed along that he’d been sent to the farm leagues for seasoning. She assumed he eventually made it to the majors. Baseball had never interested her, though, and by that time her acting career had taken off.
    She viewed Nick with full recognition now, as Gretchen gushed.
    “I am such a huge fan, Mr. La Chappelle. That Game Seven of your last Series was nothing short of amazing. You deserved every Cy Young you won, and maybe should’ve gotten a few more. What are you up to these days since you left—”
    “Miz Callandra says to bring this party inside. She’s tired of waiting on you young folks and wants her dinner.”
    Callie smiled at the sound of Essie’s familiar voice. She returned to the porch and gave the cook a hug.
    “Girl, you ain’t been eatin’ right, have you? I’m gonna fatten you up like I did when you was a little girl.”
    “It’s good to know you’ll have a mission in life, Essie. I’ve bragged non-stop about your cooking to my friend Gretchen.”
    The group headed up the steps, Wolf trotting along behind them. She looked over her shoulder and saw Nick following them inside. Why was he here? And coming in as if he belonged?
    Callandra Lesueur Chennault sat in a wheelchair inside the foyer, ready to greet her guests in a pastel blue suit and pearls. Callie rushed to her side and embraced her great-aunt. The smell of White Shoulders enveloped her, familiar, comforting.
    This house and Callandra meant refuge from all the world’s woes—her daddy beating on her and her mom, the moving from town to town, never having enough to eat. When her daddy died in a barroom brawl, thanks to his quick temper, she and her mother returned for good to Aurora, the place of her parents’ birth.
    Because of that, Aurora always meant security in her mind. She hugged Callandra tightly and then pulled away.
    “You’re too thin,” nagged her great-aunt.
    “I could say the same thing about you,” she retorted. “And this wheelchair. Why didn’t you tell me?”
    Callandra stroked her hair, making Callie feel all of ten years old again.
    “Why worry you? You had enough on your plate. Besides, it’s more of a convenience. The stairs are beyond me these days. I don’t ever want to work that hard again. And people are just so darn nice to me now.”
    Eric laughed. “Yeah. Miz C rolls right up to the front of the line at the post office. The grocery store. Communion. You name it. Between that chair and her superior Chennault look, nobody messes with Miz C now. Not that they ever did before.”
    “Tsk-tsk, Eric. I’m not some demanding monster. Merely an impassioned senior citizen.” Callandra waved her hand in a grand gesture and then erupted in laughter. “Oh, let’s be honest. I’ve always gotten my way. We Chennaults usually do.
    “Now let’s eat.” She glanced over at Callie. “I want to hear all about your drive down and Nick’s trip to New York.”
    Callandra turned an appraising eye to the former baseball star. “I suppose you didn’t