Page 13 of The Double Play

“Your five thousand square-foot mansion with a pool is hardly a shack,” I say dryly.

Her laughter continues. “True, true. But still! A whole castle for two people, one of which is the size of half a person? It’s a bit much.”

“From what I gathered from Google, this whole place barely makes a dent in his yearly salary.” I cringe as I consider my words. “Is it taboo to talk about his finances like that?”

“We’re best friends, nothing is off limits.”

“I know, but I don’t want to be rude.”

I unzip my bag with one hand, pulling out my toiletry case to take it into the en suite bathroom. The gleaming white tiles almost burn my eyes when I flip on the light switch. The maid must scrub each tile with a toothbrush. There’s not a speck of dirt or dust in sight. I chose this room at random, so it’s not like Emmett had them prepare it for me. He must have every room in the guest wing–yes, there is an entirewing–cleaned often.

“I don’t think it’s rude. Besides, it’s not like he can hear you. Unless he installed cameras,” Mikayla says jokingly.

“You don’t think he would do that, do you?”

I open the top right drawer, intent on dropping my bag in there out of sight–something about the counter demands a lack of clutter–but I find that it’s full of unused toiletries. Toothpaste, toothbrushes, floss, and adorably tiny bottles of mouthwash lay in organized rows. The next drawer has a stock of unscented travel-size body care products from a brand I don’t recognize the name of. The swirling label design makes me think it’s expensive though. And then the last drawer on the right has a stack of perfectly rolled white washcloths.

Does Emmett host guests a lot? He didn’t seem like the hospitable type, but maybe he didn’t seem that way when we met because he was wary of me. Not a comforting thought after Mikayla’s camera comment.

“If he’s a psychopath, sure.”

I snort at the unexpected reply. “I didn’t notice any serial killer tendencies. Unless you count an unreasonably clean guest bathroom.” I open the bottom cabinet to find it half filled with crisp white towels and half with rolls of toilet paper. Is there anythingnotwhite in this room? I should have brought towels from home. I’m afraid to use these.

“You did say he was pretty standoffish,” Mikayla notes.

“That doesn’t mean he’s a stalker or killer.” I laugh. “I think he simply prefers silence. He’s not shy. It’s like he doesn’t care to talk.”

“Can’t relate.”

I laugh. “Based on the length of our FaceTime last week, I agree.”

“Hey, you talked my ear off too,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

“I miss you,” I admit. The line goes quiet. Tears spring to my eyes. Curse my sensitive heart.

“I miss you too,” Mikayla whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “Mornings aren’t the same without you. Nothing is the same without you. I know I’m being selfish by saying so, but I wish you could have come.”

I snag a tissue from the ceramic box on the counter and dab beneath my eyes.

“I know. I-I wish I could have too, but you know why I couldn’t.”

“How’s Raven?” she asks in a quiet voice.

I’ve known Mikayla long enough to know that she doesn’t begrudge my dedication to my sister. But I also know she wishes I didn’t have to take care of her so much.

“She’s good. Struggling some in her classes, but I’m working with her on it as much as I can. I know it’s hard to study with Mom having guys in and out of there. Once she can drive, she’ll come to my place more, but for now, she just has to make do.”

“I hate that for her,” Mikayla says, and I can hear the unspoken ‘and for you’at the end of the sentence.

Taking care of Raven isn’t always easy. I want to be the fun older sister, but sometimes I have to be a parent too. With my mom cycling through jobs and men and my dad being as absent as possible, someone has to make sure Raven has what she needs. Whether it’s a poster board for a project or a ride to a friend’s house, I try to be available for her. That also means pushing her to do well in school when neither of our parents cares enough to monitor her grades.

“It’ll be all right,” I say with a sigh. “Soon enough it’ll be summer, and we can both relax some.”

“That’s good.” There’s another voice in the background, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. “Hey, I gotta go. One of my clients is having a meltdown over a floral arrangement.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too. Take care of yourself, okay?” Mikayla’s voice is soft but stern.

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