Page 160 of Curveball

I think back to when he came home. I don’t remember a foreign smell on him. He immediately pulled my body to his and we made love.

I refuse to believe this is true. I’m not sure what explanation there could be, but there must be one.

We’re not kids anymore. We’re not playing games. We have a child together. Every single thing he’s said and done since Kaya was born tells me he and I are the real deal this time around.

He asked me to trust him. To trustus. I’m going to choose to do that. The Ripley of old would crumble into a sea of self-doubt right now. Mature, confident Ripley is going to stay and have a conversation. I’m choosing to believe in our love.

Mom watchedKaya during my softball practice, and now Kaya, Mom, and I are spending some time in the pool thisafternoon. There’s a big television out there, so we can watch the Cougars’ game. Quincy isn’t pitching today.

I’ve been running through my head how I want to approach things when he gets home. I’m going to be an adult and have a direct conversation with him. I’m going to give him the chance to explain himself and whatever he tells me, I’ll believe. Despite all of our shit through the years, Quincy has never lied to me.

About thirty minutes after the game is over, I receive a text from him.

Quincy: Something came up. I won’t be home for a few more hours. Kiss Kaya for me.

My stomach drops. What is going on?

Quincy

I pull into my garage, tears filling my eyes as they have for most of the past few hours. How am I going to tell Ripley? She’s going to be devastated. I’m devastated.

I look at the clock. It’s after ten. Kaya will be asleep. I’m sad I won’t see her, but this is going to be a difficult night, and it’s better off she not see us this way. I hope June has made herself scarce. I look at her spot in the garage. Her car is gone. Good.

Not seeing any signs of Ripley downstairs, I immediately make my way upstairs. She’s not in any of the bedrooms though. Where is she?

I walk back downstairs and notice that the giant glass-paneled doors leading to the pool are open. She must be out back.

I walk through them and see her sitting in the hottub. There’s a glass of wine and her iPad next to her on the ledge. She’s got her arms spread out and her hair is pulled into a messy bun. She looks exactly like she did the first night we kissed. So perfect. So beautiful. I’m truly the luckiest man on the planet. I can’t believe it took me so long to get here, but the hard journey was worth the end result. Ripley St. James is mine and I’m hers.

Her eyes are closed but as soon as I get closer, they open and gaze at me. I notice that they’re red. She’s been crying. Maybe she already knows.

“Shortcake? Are you okay?”

Her head tilts to the side as she examines me. “Have you been crying?”

I nod.

She squeezes her eyes shut and more tears spill out of them.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She croaks out, “You tell me.”

I want to hold her when I tell her this. I sit down and remove my shoes. I’m about to remove my clothes when she lets out a sob.

Not caring about my clothes anymore, I immediately slip into the hot tub, still wearing them, and take her into my arms.

She starts sobbing uncontrollably. I rub her hair. “I’m so sorry. How did you hear?”

She whimpers, “It’s on all the gossip sites. I don’t understand why.”

Huh? “Blanche passing is on the gossip sites?”

She pulls back with a shocked look on her face. “What? Blanche died?”

“Yes, baby. That’s where I’ve been. Her son left me avoicemail. He said she left us something and needed me to come to her place as soon as I got the message.”

Her face scrunches and her sobs get louder. I hold her close. “I know. It’s so sad. I feel like she had more life to live.”

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