Page 26 of The Double Play

“Excuse me,” I say to an elderly man sitting a seat down from us. He looks nice enough, with a Wolves cap shading a kind smile. “Do you know when halftime is?”

His bushy brows furrow. “Halftime?” He gives me a look like I’m short a few marbles. “This is baseball, not football. There’s no halftime.”

“There’s no breaks?” I ask, even though I feel dumb.

He chuckles. “There’s a couple minutes between innings, but nothing like halftime.”

“Oh.” I shift in the uncomfortable seat, feeling my thighs stick to the hot plastic. This is going to be a long game. “Thank you.”

He merely nods while laughing to himself. I’m sure our conversation will be a joke he can share with his buddies later on.

I decide to focus on the field and watch as Emmett throws another impossibly fast ball, his signature scowl even more menacing than usual. If I were batting, I’d miss the ball just on account of how intimidating he is.

“Out!” someone on the field dressed in black shouts.

Emmett’s mouth twitches ever so slightly. He must be pleased with this outcome.

The sea of red roars in objection, meanwhile June sets her half-eaten hot dog in her lap and claps, shouting, “Go, Daddy!”

I clap along with her, since she seems to know more than me. Also because it’s logical to assume that anything the Wolves hate, we should like. I establish my plan for the remainder of the game: Cheer when June does, and look happy when the opposing team is mad. Maybe I’ll make it through without looking as out of place as I feel.

The Cowboys won. I put on my best smile for June, even though I feel a little sunburnt and a lot tired. I’m built for quiet evenings at home, not deafening cheers in a packed stadium with the surface temperature of a curling iron left on too long. There were times when it was fun, but I spent the majority of the game confused. Things that I thought were good turned out to be bad. One time, I stood up to cheer only to find out that I was cheering for thewrong team. June looked as befuddled as I felt.

“I love sprinkles,” June declares as she eats her ice cream cone outside the stadium. It’s melting, creating a sticky pastel rainbow down her forearm. But she doesn’t seem to mind. I’ll make sure she gets cleaned up later. The napkins I shoved in my overall pockets are likely to be of no help.

“Me too,” I say as I take the final bite of a matching scoop of vanilla ice cream with sprinkles. The sugar rush combined with sitting in the heat for three hours is likely to give me a headache, but I couldn’t resist the cold treat when we passed it on our way out.

Above us, the setting sun paints the sky in burnt orange and fuschia. It frames the large stadium in a picturesque way. I lift my phone to snap a photo right as June yells, “Daddy!”

She breaks into a run before I can process what’s happening. A few feet away, Emmett catches her with one arm, not seeming to mind at all that she’s coating his uniform in rainbow dyes and sugar. He smiles and I quickly move my phone to capture it. Unprofessional? Maybe. But the sight is so rare I feel like one of the archaeologists finding treasure in the documentaries my sister watches. I’m sure Bonnie would want the photo. I can pretend that’s why I took it.

I lower my phone just as his gaze lands on me. I muster a smile and walk toward him.

“Congratulations on your win.”

His lips turn up at the corners. Those warm brown eyes of his are sparkling. He’s happy. If only I had the energy to enjoy it or try to maximize it in some way, but after the morning dealing with my family issues, galavanting around New York with a five-year-old, and then sitting through a game in the heat…I’m done for.

“How was your first baseball game?” he asks as he sets June down. There’s a splash of colorful goo on his shoulder marring the jersey.

“It was great,” I lie, stretching my tired smile wide.

He frowns. “Something’s wrong. Did someone bother you?” His gaze darkens. Chillbumps pepper my arms at the sight of him being protective over me. He needs to quit saying things like this. I’m too tired to fight off my ever-growing crush.

“No, everything’s fine. It’s just been a long day,” I tell him, which is true. Just not the whole truth.

“You’re leaving something out.” He glances down at June, who’s licking the ice cream off her arm. I let out a soft laugh at the sight.

“I’m okay, really, Emmett. After a night’s sleep, I should be good as new.”

“Miss Hazel and I are having a sleepover! She said we can watchTangledand she’ll braid my hair like they do to Rapunzel in the movie.” June bounces on her heels.

It probably wasn’t the brightest idea to tell her we could have a sleepover at the beginning of the day when I was feeling down about my family. At the time, I thought it would be a way to keep my mind off things. Now it just sounds like an obstacle in the way of sleep.

“That sounds fun,” Emmett says, but he’s still frowning. He steps closer to me and lowers his voice. “You’re sunburnt, and you look exhausted.”

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to tell a woman she looks tired?” I try for a teasing tone, but it falls flat. I sigh. “My face got a little pink because I didn’t have a hat.”

His eyes fall to my exposed arms, which are a matching shade of pink, last I checked in the stadium bathroom mirror.

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