Fireside by Susan Wiggs (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

The hallway had cleared out by then. “You shouldn’t have said that,” AJ whispered.

“It was totally worth it,” Bo said, feeling the first flicker of camaraderie with him. “Did you see her face?”

At the end of the hall, by the exit, a janitor was swabbing snow and slush with a mop. It didn’t escape Bo that this was the only Hispanic person they’d seen all morning. Glancing at AJ, he guessed that the boy had noticed this, too.

He said nothing, but checked the new-student brochure. “Looks like we’ve got to pick up some school supplies for you,” he said, adding it to his list of errands. As he planned out the things they had to do before AJ started school, Bo finally had to acknowledge that his life had just gotten immeasurably more complicated. Suddenly finding himself in charge of a boy was not quite the same as rescuing a kitten or getting a goldfish. Here was somebody depending on him, twenty-four/seven. His life was not All About Bo Crutcher anymore.

People juggled work and family all the time, he reminded himself. He’d never thought about just how they did, though.

Before the phone call from Yolanda, he was happily immersed in his career. The pre-season agreement with the Yankees was the answer to every dream he’d ever had, yet he hesitated to explain to AJ exactly what it was going to mean in practical terms. A major-league career was all-consuming, and the three-ring circus was about to begin. Bo was supposed to hit the road soon, heading down to Virginia for the annual rookie development program, known as Fame School.

He didn’t relish telling AJ. The boy had already been ripped from his mother. And although Bo wasn’t any kind of father, he was all the kid had, for the moment, anyway. He suspected AJ might not warm up to the idea that Bo, too, had to go away, regardless of the reason. He kept rehearsing ways to explain the situation, but there was really no good way to say it—except to say it.

Tonight, then. At dinner, Bo would explain about the Yankees contract, and how he had to go away for the rookie development program.

Which would probably go over like a fart in church.

“Now what?” AJ asked peevishly, buckling his seat belt. He felt totally freaked out. Enrolling in school was huge. It seemed to take him even further away from his mom.

“How about we have a little fun this afternoon? Let’s head to the gym.”

“That’s your idea of fun?”

“We could always go back to the school, bug the attendance clerk some more.”

AJ knew what Bo was up to. He was trying to keep him from being homesick for his mom. It kind of worked. A little bit, sometimes.

“I know what you’re doing,” AJ said.

“I’m glad you do,” Bo said with laughter in his voice. “Because most days, I haven’t got a clue.”

“I mean, I know what you’re doing with me. You’re trying to make me like it here by doing all this fun stuff with me.”

“Oh, busted,” Bo said. “So is it working?”

“Maybe a little bit. Sometimes.”

“Nothing’s going to keep you from missing your mom, AJ. That doesn’t mean you have to suffer every second she’s away. It doesn’t help her, and she wouldn’t want you to be miserable. Agreed?”

He shrugged, looked out the window. It was weird how he was already getting used to the small town. Probably because there was so little to it—Main Street and the town square, the city park at the lakeshore, the train station.

Bo turned into the parking lot of the big barnlike building that housed the sports complex. School was out for the day, and kids were hanging around. It made AJ miss his cholos back home. They never went to a gym or anything. There was no money for that. AJ thought about all the flyers given out at school—Sign up for Youth Soccer! Little League tryouts next week! Swim Team starts soon!—that had never made it home. His mom’s reaction was always the same: “It’s a lot of money, chico tierno…” By second grade, he’d learned to leave the flyers in the trash.

“Here we are,” Bo announced. “The Arthur Rey Gymnasium and Aquatic Center. Sophie loaned me some of Max’s gym shorts for you. We might be able to find some swim trunks in the lost and found.”

“I’m not swimming,” AJ said, folding his arms across his middle.

“Not right away, you aren’t,” Bo said. “We’re going to have a game of one-on-one first.”

“Forget it.”

“Fine. You can sit on the bench while I find a pick-up game.”

AJ hesitated. “See? This is what I hate. I only get two choices and they both suck.”

Just for a second, hurt flashed across Bo’s face. AJ wished he hadn’t seen it. He wished he hadn’t caused it. He wished he wasn’t starting to care whether or not Bo’s feelings were hurt. “Why do you keep trying to turn me into someone I’m not?” he lashed out.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

AJ scowled. “You want me to be athletic like you. I’m not like that. I’m not cool and I’m not athletic.”

“Let me tell you something,” Bo said. “The only thing wrong with you is your attitude. You know I’m right.” He killed the engine and turned to face AJ. “When I was in junior high, I was like every other kid in Texas. I wanted to go out for football. I would’ve made it, too. But at tryouts, the coach sent me home.”

“Why? Weren’t you any good?”

“I was okay. And sure, I could have played football. But the coach took me aside and said I even had a decent shot at a football scholarship at one of the smaller schools.”

“So why did he reject you?”

“Because he wanted more for me. And he didn’t want me getting hurt. See, playing football, I’d end up with injuries, maybe one that would end up doing permanent damage. Or keeping me from playing a