Page 14 of The Double Play

“I’ll try,” I say before hanging up.

Self-care is rather elusive to me, what with my days being split between caring for Raven and now June. But maybe I can find time for a TV show tonight once June is in bed. Emmett’s couch is ridiculously comfortable, so it will be a nice treat to snuggle up on it after running around with June.

I throw my mascara-stained tissue into the trash. It looks out of place in the clean bathroom. With a sigh, I leave my temporary room and head to the kitchen to take out ingredients for June’s after-school snack. She likes to help make things, but I try to do plenty of prep beforehand to speed up the process a little.

As if someone is playing a cruel joke on me, my phone buzzes once I arrive in the kitchen.

Raven: Mom just texted and said she’s going out tonight with her newest boyfriend. I don’t think there’s any food at the house. Also I just tried to use my card to get a snack with my friend and it declined.

I pinch my nose, a blaze of anger firing within me.

Hazel: I’ll Venmo you some money, and you can use my DoorDash account to order food.

Within a couple of clicks, two hundred dollars is on its way to her. I try not to go overboard sending her money, but I know she won’t see Dad for two more weeks since he’s on a business trip, and he’s usually the one who gives her cash. Mom issupposedto give her a little bit a week for lunch money and things like snacks, but she often forgets about it. This should be more than enough to get Raven through. Blessedly, Emmett pays me a generous salary. When I was a broke college student, these problems were a lot more difficult to solve.

Raven: Can I stay with Fallon tonight? She said her mom doesn’t care. I don’t want to be home.

Hazel: If you give me Fallon’s mom’s number, then yes.

Raven: Thank you! And thanks for the money. Love you.

Hazel: Love you too.

I set my phone face down. It buzzes again, likely with the contact information I asked for. I ignore it, holding on to the marble countertop and closing my eyes to keep my raging emotions at bay.

“This is nothing,” I whisper to myself. “You’ve dealt with worse. Everything is fine.”

I draw in a fortifying breath, and the tempest in my chest calms. I can’t have June seeing me upset when I go to pick her up from school. After I gather myself once more, I open my eyes and continue my task. All the while hoping that I was right about Emmett not having cameras. Because if he does, I just gave him one of the saddest shows.

Chapter eight

Emmett Foster

“Whoa!”Oneofmyteammates, Oliver, turns his body to the left, holding his palms up.

“Sorry,” I mutter and pass him to continue down the aisle of the plane. I’m not usually so distracted, but I was checking to see if Hazel had texted me back. I was hoping to hear from her one more time before takeoff.

“You almost ran over Oliver,” another teammate, Emerson, adds as I take the seat beside his.

“You’re being dramatic,” I say in return, watching my screen to see if any bubble appears to let me know she’s typing.

I wouldn’t be mad if she didn’t respond right away. She’s taking June to school right now. I wanted to know if June had a good morning. Some trips are better than others as far as her missing me goes, but she’s seemed fine with Hazel so far. I was worried that something would go wrong while I wasn’t home, but Hazel has proved herself to be a great nanny.

“You’re even more grouchy than usual,” Emerson points out.

I shoot him a glare, then whip my head back toward my phone when it buzzes in my palm.

Hazel: June had a great morning! She ate all of her breakfast, and I just dropped her off at school.

She attached a photo of June smiling over a plate of pancakes, fruit, and eggs. June’s hair is in some kind of elaborate style with braids and two buns on the top of her head. While I learned how to style my daughter’s hair, I’ve never been able to do anything as intricate as that.

“Who’s Hazel?” Emerson asks. He’s so close that his chin is almost touching my shoulder. I shove him away.

“Why are you so nosy?”

“You don’t talk much, and since friends are supposed to know things about each other, I have to take matters into my own hands.”

I run a hand over my beard. “I don’t remember ever saying we were friends.”

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