Page 87 of Double Play

We walk inside, hand in hand. I immediately notice Quincy glaring at me from the table and know he isn’t going to make this easy.

I see an attractive, older couple sitting with him. They both look a little worn from the lifestyle they’ve led, but the family resemblance is there.

The man who I assume is her father stands and holds out his hand. He’s very tall, which makes sense given Arizona and Quincy’s height. He’s a little round in the middle, but big and burly throughout.

Taking my hand in his very rough one, he shakes ithard and sneers, “If it isn’t the all-star playboy who’s apparently using my daughter.”

My eyes widen but Arizona starts laughing. “Cut it out, Dad.”

His scowl morphs into a smile as he releases my hand and turns to give her a big, bear hug, lifting her off the ground. He spins her around.

The woman who I assume is her mother rolls her eyes at him the same way Arizona does at me as she reaches out to hug me. “Pay him no attention. I’m Pamela. That’s Paul. He thinks he’s a standup comedian.” She squeezes me. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. We see you on television all the time. And, of course, I hear about you from Arizona.”

I smile at Quincy. “You don’t call your mom and tell her about me too?”

He gives me the finger.

Pamela slaps his hand. “Stop being rude. No one is ever good enough for his baby sister in his eyes.”

Quincy deadpans, “Layton isdefinitelynot good enough for her. I promise you that. Not even close.”

Arizona rolls her eyes, the same way her mother just did. I find myself wondering if I have any of my parents’ mannerisms.

She crosses her arms. “Grumpy, if you have nothing nice to say, shut your big trap. You’d think, with your rapidly receding hairline, you’d learn to have a better personality.”

Quincy doesn’t have a receding hairline. She’s messing with him, but he feels around his hair just to make sure.

Pamela shakes her head as she looks at me. “They’ve bickered since they were little kids. Arizona and her father love to push Quincy’s buttons.”

Paul lets out a deep laugh. “It’s because Quincy was jealous that Arizona was faster than him, could hit a ball further than him, and was an all-around better athlete.” He winks at me. “That’s why he had to become a pitcher.”

I can’t help but start laughing at that. Their family banter is hysterical.

Quincy scowls. “That’s not true. I became a pitcher because I throw a hundred miles per hour.”

Paul rubs his back. “You certainly do, son. About five or ten miles faster, and you’ll throw as hard as your little sister.”

Arizona and Pamela giggle. I’m sensing that Quincy bashing is a family activity. Arizona mentioned a lot of ball busting. Once he and I are back on track, I’m going to have to figure out a way to join in the fun.

Quincy sighs. “I’m currently having one of the best seasons of my career and you’re busting my chops?”

Paul nods. “Yes, you are. You should have been in the all-star game this year. That was bullshit. Don’t be jealous that your sister is an all-star and is about to win the most valuable player award for her league.” He smiles at Quincy and, in a condescending tone, says, “You’re a very good player too, son.”

I’m thinking that their parents pay a lot closer attention to them than they realize.

Paul grabs my shoulder. “And you. Look at what you’ve been doing the past few months. You’re playing like you did years ago.”

“Yes, sir. It’s all thanks to your daughter.”

He smiles. “Has she given you a few tips?”

“Something like that. She’s my magic potion.”

I wiggle my eyebrows at Arizona, and she narrows her eyes at me.

He nods with a tremendous amount of pride. “I’m glad to hear it. She knows her stuff.”

“She’s actually a very good teacher. We coach a baseball team of young kids together. She’s taught them a lot. They adore her.”

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