Fumbled Past

FUMBLED PAST LAUREN RUNOW Copyright © 2023 by Lauren Runow All rights reserved. Visit my website at www.LaurenRunow.com Cover Designer: Enchanting Romance Designs Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. No copyright infringement intended. No claims have been made over songs and/or lyrics written. All credit goes to original owners. Created with Vellum CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Acknowledgments About the Author CHAPTER ONE Present Day I reach for my daughter Aubree’s hand before she runs out in traffic. “Hold on, sweetie. We have to wait for Daddy.” She stops, like the little darling she is, while her brother, Tommy, who’s three years older, darts out without a care in the world. I glare at my husband, who laughs and looks over at Tommy to make sure he’s safe and staying by our car while grabbing our stadium chairs from the back. When our eyes meet, I know that’s his way of saying, It’s all good, Mom. He’s fine. I sigh and turn to our teenage daughter, Mollie, who’s leaning against the car with her phone up to her face. My nerves are so shot right now that I don’t even bother telling her to live in the moment and not be glued to that device. I know I grew up in a different era, but I truly don’t think I would have been so addicted to the thing if they had existed when I was her age, mainly because my dad kept me so busy that I wouldn’t have had time. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I walk around the car to see it—the stadium named after my father—for the first time in twenty years. There, above the gates, is the big letter Z, curved on the ends and stretched out so it’s in the shape of a football. Underneath that are the words Tom Zeeman Stadium, written in black and orange—the high school’s colors. I remember the day they named the stadium after him. I was in the fourth grade and thought my dad was the coolest man alive. I carried that same awe about him until the day he died. My husband wraps his arm around me and gives me a closed-mouth grin. “You ready?” I nod as we walk toward the gates with me still holding Aubree’s hand, my husband grabbing Tommy by his shirt to stop him from running farther, and Mollie slowly following behind us. It’s amazing how different her life is than mine when I was her age. Athletics were my life, and I was constantly engrossed in everything high school sports. I tried to get her involved in the drill team, but it wasn’t her thing. I guess it was more me trying to grasp at straws from my past rather than letting her choose her own world of art. As we approach the gate, I’m shocked when I see Carol—a woman who has volunteered at these games my entire life—is still here. The only different things I see about her are the wrinkles, which are more pronounced, and her hair is totally gray but kept in the same hairstyle—to her shoulders. I smile big when she sees me standing there, and all anxiety of being back at this stadium washes away. “Sadie?” Her face lights up as she exits the booth to give me a hug. “Is it really you?” She wraps her arms around me, and I have to fight back tears. I knew tonight would be hard, but I thought I’d at least make it through the door before I had to worry about hiding the fact that I was crying. “Hi, Carol.” I hug her back. “It’s so good to see you! I can’t believe you still volunteer at these things.” “You know I’d never give this up.” She leans back to look at my face. “You’re all grown up.” Though it’s been twenty years, I always laugh at the fact that I am pretty much the same. I still have my long dirty-blonde hair that’s straight with some body to it, thankfully. My style hasn’t changed a bit, and I actually still own some of the clothes I had in high school. Admittedly, they are a little too tight to physically wear, but I can’t bear to part with some of them just because of the memories they hold. I grin, thankful that the sun hasn’t quite gone down yet so she can’t see just how wet my eyes really are from being here. I blink them a few times to clear my sight. “And who are these little ones?” Carol leans down to Aubree. “Do you know I’ve known your mom since she was born?” Aubree looks up at me, and I nod with a smile. “She sure has.” I run my fingers down Aubree’s curls. “This is our little one, Aubree. Then, we have Tommy, and Mollie is our oldest. And you remember—” Just then, my husband comes up behind Carol, wrapping his