Page 56 of A Whole New Play

The unsettling feeling in my gut only intensifies when the woman turns to speak with the equally beautiful young woman next to her and I see she’s wearing Carter’s jersey number.

Is she his ex?

I glance at Carter’s family, but no one notices the woman. Or if they do, they aren’t concerned with her presence.

I’m probably just being paranoid.

There are hundreds of people in this stadium wearing Carter’s jersey number. It doesn’t mean anything. She’s just a fan.

I repeat those words in my mind more than a dozen times throughout the first half when I continue to see her peering into our suite every so often. I consider she might be looking at Corey, but she barely gives the famous pitcher more than a glance.

What is her deal?

At halftime, I’m relieved when Abby and Andy drag me back to finish the puzzle. But even with the distraction, I can’t stop thinking about reasons why the woman would be so interested in watching our suite.

She’s probably into your boss and is waiting for him to drop by after the game or something…

Ugh.

This is ridiculous.

Even if the woman is interested in Carter, it’s none of my business. He and I aren’t a couple. I have no right to let the thought sour my mood.

Carter and I agreed to step back and keep things professional. We had one hiccup the night of the accident, and it won’t happen again.

Annoyance lances through me when I acknowledge the thought makes me sad.

Half-time is nearly over by the time we finish the astronaut puzzle. Andy convinces me and Abby to play a game of Go Fish. I deal the cards and pick up my hand my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I take out the device and am unsurprised to see Carter’s name on the screen. Ever since the car accident, Carter’s check-in calls and texts have doubled from their already frequent number. He’s always worried about the kids when he’s not around, but now it’s like he expects some unknown side effect of my accident to take hold while I’m alone with the twins. His anxiety is starting to give me anxiety.

I don’t know if it’s the idea of being micromanaged or my lingering discomfort caused by the beautiful blonde wearing his number, but I answer the call with a clipped, “The twins are fine. Stop hovering.” I end the call before he can respond. I turn the phone on silent and then place it face down on the table in front of me.

I look at the cards in my hand, too flustered to really see them, when I feel attention on me.

My eyes lift and I see Abby and Andy looking at me.

I tilt my head to the side. “What?”

The twins share a look, along with a grin. “Was that our Dad?” Abby asks.

I nod. “It was.”

“He calls a lot,” she observes.

“He does.” I look back at my cards and realize I have a match. I take the two nines and put them down in front of me.

“He worries about us.”

I knew this little girl was smart, but I had no idea she was so in tune with other’s emotions.

I meet her knowing gaze. “Well… he is your dad. It’s normal for him to worry. He loves you.”

“We know.” Andy and Abby exchange another look. Then, the observant little girl adds, “He smiles more since you became our nanny.”

The hand brushing a stray strand of hair from my eyes freezes in midair.

What in the world am I supposed to say to that?

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