Page 65 of The Perfect Snipe

Sure, we’ve won a few games lately but so have other teams. And while the competitiveness is still there, that need to want to make it to the playoffs driving a huge part of me, it’s not the end-all for me.

Do I still want to keep my promise to Wendy?

Yes.

But I’ve been rethinking that day, her words. Wendy had always been my biggest supporter. Her eyes had been filled with concern even as she was dying. Had she meant for me not to give up? Not to fall apart after she was gone?

Did I misinterpret her meaning?

“Leo, are you okay?”

I blink a few times and clear my throat. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about how much you’ve changed our lives since coming into them.”

Cat tilts her head, fork with a piece of calamari stopping midway to her mouth. "How so?"

"Well, for one, the kids are happier. Stella's thriving in her CrossFit classes, and Mason . . . he's not as uptight about being perfect." I sit back and cross my arms over my chest. “He even saidmierdathe other day when he dropped a cookie and just shrugged his shoulders when I went to correct him.”

She coughs, almost choking on the piece of calamari she’s been chewing on. “Oh, shit. Sorry, I should watch my language more.”

I shake my head and roll my eyes. Cat curses way too much; half the time I don’t think she notices. And while I didn’t like my son just dismissing the whole thing, his normal default would’ve been to freak out.

“Would be nice, but really I just want both of my kids to find a happy medium.” I take a piece of bruschetta and eat it, watching as she continues to dig into some of the other appetizers.

“So, looks like my apartment will be ready by July.”

My chest tightens. One thing I’ve been avoiding is not having Cat at home on a daily basis. Not to mention, I haven’t even started looking for a nanny yet. There’s been too much on my plate, but even thinking about it now makes my stomach drop.

I wipe my mouth and place the napkin back on my lap. “That’s good news.”

She just nods.

Not wanting to dwell on this any longer, I switch the topic. “Talked to my brother the other day.”

“How’d that go?”

“Well, I think I honed that Alonso toughness because I pretty much told him off for cutting my kids out of his life, that they had no part in how my mother acted. And also, bluntly told him how I felt about losing my brother from my life, especially after Wendy died.”

Her eyes narrow, gaze locked onto me. “So . . . you guilt tripped him? I don’t remember that being an Alonso thing.”

I shrug. “It worked. He apologized. We talked for an hour and we’ve texted a couple of times.”

She takes a sip of wine, twirling the stem after placing the glass back on the table. “And your mother? What’s going on with her? Stella told me what happened at the hospital. I didn’t want to pry, but I also don’t want your kids not seeing their grandmother. You know how important mine is to me.”

“I do, but boundaries needed to be set.”

Our main courses arrive, and the smell alone is enough to distract us from the easy back-and-forth we’ve settled into. I take a bite of my steak, savoring the rich, peppery flavor before glancing over at Cat, who’s meticulously cutting a small piece of her chicken like it’s some kind of ritual. There's something both delicate and fierce about the way she handles herself, from the way her hair tumbles over her shoulders to the determined set of her mouth as she chews.

I swallow and scoop some mashed potatoes, but pause before eating them. “So, let me get this straight. You were a gamer?”

She puts down her fork and grins, her eyes lighting up. “Not just any gamer. I used to dominate those online first-person shooters.”

“How many times you get kicked out for that mouth of yours?” I shove the potatoes into my mouth, then wink.

She takes a sip of red wine, staring at me over the glass. “Maybe I’m not the only one who should have their mouths stuffed. You do know they make ball gags, right?”

I sputter, nearly choking on the potatoes, needing to give myself a few light punches to the chest. “Hellcat, we’re in a restaurant.”

“Excuse me. Wasn’t it your teammate banging on the wall when you got too loud while we were getting off together over Facetime a few days ago?”

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