Page 83 of Playing for Keeps

Duke narrows his gaze at my tone and word choices. “I’m worried they’ll talk about grandkids, which would spoil my good mood.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Val says immediately. “But grandkidsarein your future. I think I’ve already put a baby bun in my lady love’s oven.”

Duke wants so desperately to push back against Val. I feel him fighting that insatiable urge to tell the younger man to stuff it. My father wins the battle and only grunts, “Sure.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Clover doesn’t want kids,” I say, and Duke glances at my sister clapping to a dance-off between Tuesday and Alexis nearby at the Mercer house.

“She seems happy.”

“She’s a weirdo,” Val says, winning frowns from Duke and me. “And my family embraces weirdos. That’s why Clover smiles so much when she’s here.”

Duke and I look at each other and mellow out. Clover has always felt she needed to shove herself into a box to fit other people’s expectations. It’s why she never goes out or does anything. People want too much, and she feels like a failure.

At the homestead, she can sit back and watch the show without anyone hassling her.

Despite Clover’s good example, Duke refuses to join any of the various groups spread out over the grassy section between homestead houses.

“If you need a sounding board, I’m around,” I tell Duke when he won’t budge.

“That goes for me, too,” Val offers. “In case, you need a male sounding board.”

With Val and me on the same page, and Duke refusing to engage, we begin walking again. Poppy runs over to us as we near the Mooney house.

“What is your name choice for a boy?” she asks Val. “It’s not still Dog, is it?”

“Poncho is our new favorite,” Val tells his mom who shakes her head. “Groucho?”

Poppy snickers. “Wait, is that in honor of Journey’s giant eyebrows?”

I look at Journey nearby with Justice. While Val’s aunt does have luscious eyebrows, they are not at all like Groucho Marx’s. Assuming this is a family in-joke, I don’t ask questions.

“I thought Worth might be a fun choice,” I suggest. “It’s a virtue name like Valor, and it means homestead.”

Poppy smiles at me like I might be her favorite person in the world. “I knew you were perfect as soon as I learned you existed.”

I smile at her revisionist history. Val kisses the top of his mom’s head and gives me a look similar to his mom’s. I assume that means he approves of the name.

“How soon will I get to hold my grandson?” Poppy asks. “Oana and Ike made a baby during their first month together. I’m looking for that kind of speed.”

Val glances at his cousin. “Can you imagine our kids being the same age? They’ll be pals.”

I rub my belly and imagine a little version of Val growing inside.

“Soon, our house will be right over there,” Val tells his mom and gestures toward the area where West and Tuesday have new homes. “Lola will be carrying your favorite grandchild. I’ll be doing my best to bring the two clubs together, so my kids will have a good life like I did.”

Poppy admires her son, and I imagine her raising him with the kind of love my parents gave me. She’s partly why he’s so proudly arrogant yet impeccably kind. I scan the homestead to admire the other people who helped Val become the man he is today.

Nearby, Emmett laughs at something West tells him. His grandfather flicks a frisbee across the yard to entertain the dogs.Everyone here loved and protected Val. Now I’m the one reaping the benefits.

After offering us hugs, Poppy runs over to her sisters to likely brag. I see her pointing at us and moving her hips like she’s explaining how babies are made.

Val takes my hand and starts walking again. We end up near Journey’s house where Edith shuffles around the yard in an oversized shirt and faded jeans. She sprays dandelions as if she hasn’t noticed the party happening around her.

“Are you okay?” Val asks and takes the spray from her.

“My hands are nasty,” Edith mumbles, seeming lost.

“I’ve got you,” Val insists and tugs his water pistol free from the back of his jeans. “Let me shoot you clean.”

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