Page 171 of Unhinged

“You are way better than Finn, Greg. You could’ve coached our team. You and Crick are our best players. Hands down.”

“Scanlon’s story is the tragic one, being bullied out of his baseball dream. I got bored, and it was tearing up my shoulder. I was able to help Eden. Her home nurse was a raving lunatic, anyway.”

Dad asks, “Gayle? Your sister adored her.”

“That was the problem. She didn’t make her do the breathing exercises because they hurt too much. Boo freaking hoo. I made her do them.” I clear my throat and steal back my carrot before it goes into Simone’s mouth.

Dad shakes his head. “You could’ve gone to Duke on a scholarship, though. Maybe you could’ve even been a professional ballplayer.”

“Wasn’t interested.”

Simone says, “That’s why you slide into home plate so well and can toss a ball into the air and catch it without looking.”

“No. I’ve just been a lucky jackass.”

They laugh, and Sherry argues, “That toss was your signature move on the mound. You did it before your first pitch of the inning. You also did some flippy thing with the bat. People loved it.”

I roll my eyes, downplaying their big mouths. Simone asks, “How can you go from pitching fastballs overhand to slow duds underhand for softball? Don’t you miss pitching faster?”

With everyone staring at me, I shrug again. “They were okay. Slower and underhanded? Not hard. Whatever.”

Dad laughs. “That’s bull. Jeremy was good at the curveballs, but you were the fastball champ.” I really want to stop talking about this. “Simone, there are baseball pictures on the wall in the basement.”

“I need to see them.”

I shake my head, but Ashley says, “I’ll show you after dinner.”

“Stuff it, brat.” They’re the same pictures I tore off the wall before Hadley saw them when she stayed here.

Unfortunately, Simone asks, “What was your number in high school?”

I mumble, “I don’t remember.”

Dad laughs. “It was three.”

Simone’s hand goes to her mouth, and I don’t know if she’s going to laugh, cry, or hurl. I roll my eyes. “It was a coincidence.”

Sherry asks, “What was?”

Simone shakes her head, dazed maybe. “That’s his number on our softball team.”

“Val picked the numbers.” Not for everyone. Val loves me.

Sherry puts away the tray before I’ve had three bites. I scowl at Simone. “You owe me so much hummus. It’s not even funny.”

“It really is, though.” She grins back at me, and I want to skip dinner.

Sherry and Dad gather dinner. Sherry asks, “Greg, will you grab the casserole from the oven?”

Damn it. Grabbing a potholder, I see the dreaded vegetable casserole Sherry makes for every fucking occasion when I open the oven door. It’s almost every known vegetable thrown together with dough like a pot pie, only bigger and cheesier. It also has more vegetable garbage than a dumpster at any grocery store. There’s no misplacing that recipe. I’ve tried.

We go into the dining room, where Ashley and Tabby claim seats next to my wife. I set down the casserole. “What the hell, you two?”

Simone smiles at them. “They’re my new besties. They can sit with me.”

Sherry says, “Girls, let Greg sit next to Simone.”

Simone puts her arms on their shoulders. “Nope. They’re fine.” Damn. I thought she wasn’t mad at me anymore.

---