Page 26 of Years in the Making

Before the game starts, Nellie sneaks into the dugout while I am bent over, touching my toes. When I stand she’s right in front of me, and I somehow manage to jump back while also grabbing a hold of her and hauling her with me. We land awkwardly on the bench, and after I’m done kissing her in front of my entire team, she beams shyly at them.

“Does that count as our lips breaking our fall?”

“Yours, maybe.”

She kisses me quickly again and whispers, “Good luck, EG,” before jogging back to the bleachers.

Jimmy’s eyes narrow at me. “Does this mean she doesn’t have a boyfriend, or that she’s in an open relationship and you’re fine with it?” He looks over to where she’s sitting. “Honestly, I’d probably be fine with it myself.”

“It means I’m the only one she’s in—” We haven’t really discussed anything. Going slowly probably meant that it was the start of a relationship but maybe not a full-blown one just yet. “A thing with.”

“A thing, eh?” Jimmy’s brows disappear underneath the brim of his cap. “Sounds serious.”

“Shut up.” I shake my head and stand to get ready to hit the field. I’ve never been overly competitive, but with Nellie here, I feel a need to win like never before. How I can throw a single pitch properly let alone several with one eye trained on her should be studied.

“I like watching you play,” Nellie says, holding her can of pop up.

After the game, we picked up pizza and went to the beach. It’s nothing special, but there’s no one else here so it seems like a great place to spend a quiet evening together.

“I like you watching me play too.” I tap my drink against hers before taking a sip. She’d gotten a bit of sun, and her cheeks and the tip of her nose are slightly pink. “Did you wear sunscreen today?”

“I put what tiny amount was left in the tube. I guess it wasn’t enough.”

“I wish you’d said something. I had some with me.”

“You wishing I’d said something is starting to become a thing with us.” Sitting this close I can see the tiny laugh lines that have begun to form at the corners of her eyes. The proof of someone who smiles and laughs often. The ache I feel to see those lines evolve is almost painful. I want to be one of the reasons they spread and deepen. I want to be able to count every smile she ever smiled because of me.

“What?” She’s looking at me, head cocked, slightly crooked smile bright. I’m staring at her, probably with a sappy look on my face. She wants to take things slow, and I’m sitting here fast-forwarding to a time where she’s telling me she looks old and I’m holding her from behind, staring at her in the mirror and telling her she’s never looked more beautiful than today.

“You’re really beautiful” is what comes out of my mouth, and it’s totally worth it as her cheeks darken, and she looks everywhere but at me. “Hey,” I say, taking her chin between my thumb and forefinger so she has to look at me. I was all ready to reiterate what I’d said, but the minute those dark blue eyes land on me, all I can think to do is kiss her. And so I do. It’s slow and almost sweet but still starts to ignite something in me that is decidedly not slow so I ease back. “You really are,” I say quietly before leaning back and taking her hand.

Next week we won’t have time to see each other almost every day. It may help with the taking it slow part. Either that, or by the time I do see her I’ll be ravenous for her affection and sloppy drunk after one hit of it. I can still feel her eyes on me so I point towards the lake with a slice of pizza. “The fish are jumping.” When I allow my eyes to slide her way, she’s lookingat the water.

“They are indeed,” she whispers, without so much as glancing at me.

“It’s going to be weird next week not being up all night talking with you.”

She sighs and leans back on her elbows. “I’m surprised we still have things to talk about.”

“We’ve got twenty-plus years to talk about. I’m not surprised at all.” I feel a bit guilty that I haven’t talked about my mom at all. I don’t think it’s going to change a thing, but past experiences have made me a bit truth-shy when it comes to her. I don’t know if I’m protecting my mom or myself.

I can see her fighting exhaustion when she smiles at me. “Are you looking forward to getting back to work?”

“Yeah. I like working outside, and it’s a better deal than a gym membership. What about you?”

“I’m not so sure, to be honest. I’m looking forward to being back at the library. Working there helps keep systems in my head while I’m away from school. And I’m looking forward to the birds at the center, but I’m not so sure about the people.”

“Not a people person?”

“It’s not even that. I think my dad may have taken on a bit more than he should have this year. Last year, he had John as well as his two full-timers. Now he’s got one less employee and four more interns. He’s one of the best to learn from, but he’s also dedicated in a way that makes me worry.”

“Worry about what, exactly? Him? The interns? The birds?”

“Mostly worry about him, and the birds.” She smiles sheepishly at me. “I don’t care so much about the interns.”

“Dads are resilient. He’ll probably be okay in the end.”

“Oh? Know a thing or two about resilient dads?”

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