Page 39 of Love Her

Chapter 18

Felicity

Call me a chicken but there was no way I was going to tonight’s practice. Does that make me a bad parent? Maybe. More importantly, it’s also necessary for my mental health. I need to wrap my brain around how I’ll maneuver around all the townspeople at the baseball field. If only I’d paid attention to the team roster when it was emailed to us. Maybe then we could have all avoided the awkwardness on the field.

Owen was cordial enough, not shunning me or shaming me in front of Connor. Of course, the look of horror on his face when his friend placed a hand on my back was awkward enough. I can’t say I blame him. His group of friends have always been the people I’ve had the most animosity with. From? Truthfully, it’s a mutual level of dislike and all the words and actions that go along with it.

As I watch Clem muddle through her own issues with classmates, I see it from a unique perspective. Now, my mama bear instincts have me reassessing my viewpoint in my own relationships. Hindsight is a beautiful thing. Except when you realize your actions stemmed from one emotion. Jealousy. I was so damn jealous. Everything came easy to Ashton and Piper. Their friendship and popularity never wavered. Of course, part of that popularity came by the way of Ashton’s older brother. The boy I crushed on from afar most of my life. Like all the girls in our school, Bentley Sullivan was the unattainable upperclassman we all crushed on.

“Mom, are you going to make your move?”

Startled, I almost knock my glass of wine off the table. Clem snickers while my mom gasps at the potential loss of her precious wine. Rolling my eyes, I make quick work of my cards before I shout, “Uno!”

Groaning, Clem throws her arms on the table, her head banging on the wood. My girl definitely has a flair for the dramatics. My potential for victory is short-lived when my mom joins the one card club and then Clem drops down a draw four on her turn.

Mom rises and grabs the bottle of wine from the refrigerator, topping off both our glasses. We continue to play, enjoying our girls’ night while my dad is at practice with Jacob. Spending time with Clem has eased my guilt for not going to practice. Or maybe that’s the wine. Who’s to say?

“Okay, Clem, it’s time for your shower.” She fusses but gathers the cards from the table, putting them in the cardboard container. With the box in her hand, she slips around the table and wraps her arms around my neck. “Love you, Mama.”

“Love you too, baby. Now go on and get in the shower before your brother gets home.”

Lifting my wine glass to my lips, I lean back in my seat and savor the tartness on my tongue. I can feel my mom’s stare but do my best to ignore it, finding the grain of the wooden table I’ve sat at most of my life fascinating.

“A date. This is a positive development.”

I should have known she’d mention this topic. I’m having regrets even asking her to watch the kids on Sunday. As if I have any other option. Both my parents looked at me like I was crazy when I asked them. My parents adore the kids and spending time with them is never a burden. Yet, I feel guilty asking for one more thing from them.

“Mom,” I warn.

“What? It is. Positive and a development. I’m glad you’re putting yourself out there, Lis.”

“You don’t think it’s too soon? Maybe I should cancel.”

Leaning across the table, my mom rests her hand on mine. I glance down and note the similarities. When I lift my eyes to hers, I realize I’m getting the same lines next to my eyes. I’ve also favored my mom in looks and I can only hope I can do the same as a mother. “Don’t you dare. Go out. Have fun. Nobody says you have to marry the fella. Just enjoy a meal. Maybe a little flirting. It’ll be good for you.”

“Oh, flirting is guaranteed. I don’t know that Connor can help himself.”

Before I can say another word, my phone rings from its place on the counter. Rising, I scoop it up and eye the screen. The number itself isn’t familiar but the caller ID does tell me it’s a Dallas number. It may be someone from my previous life in the city, so I slide my finger across the answer button. “Hello?”

Silence greets me. Shrugging, I disconnect the call and reach across the table and retrieve my wine glass. Mom opens her mouth to say something before the thunder of footsteps cuts her off. Bracing myself for impact, I accept the sweaty little body that slams into me with an embrace.

“Hey buddy, how was practice?”

“So good. Coach said I know a lot of facts.”

Part of me wants to ask which coach but I don’t and instead ruffle the top of his head.

“You need a haircut.”

Groaning, he slips out of my clutches and heads straight for the refrigerator. Jacob groans like the food choices have let him down. Dad kisses Mom’s cheek before lifting the lid off the pot warming on the stove. The aroma of her chili fills the air. It’s my dad’s favorite and he reminds us of that as he snags a spoon from the drawer and samples the goods.

“Jacob, how about you go hop in the shower? I’ll get your dinner ready while you get cleaned up.”

He nods and takes off running down the hall. A screech by his sister and the slamming of her door makes all the adults in the kitchen laugh.

“How’d he do, Dad?”

“It’s his first year and only the second practice. He’s having a blast with his friends and that’s what matters.”

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