Page 29 of Seven Summer Weekends

He threw up his hands in acase in pointway.

Addison rolled her eyes again. His excuse seemed like more BS, like he was trying anything until something stuck. She didn’t trust this guy one bit.

The ear gauge guy handed them each their bags, and Addison purposefully chose the register that Ben had not. Even so, they walked out the door at the same time and jumped on their bikes, leaving them in the awkward position of riding home together. When Ben eventually turned left up the bay block, Addison went straight. Still, they both reached their corner at the same time as a bunch of guys had gathered on the ball field.

“Good timing,” Shep called out. “Did you forget we had a game?”

“I did. I’ll put my groceries away and grab my mitt.”

“Hey, Addie!” Shep yelled. “We are short on guys, wanna play?”

“She doesn’t want to play,” Ben laughed snidely.

Shep looked over at Addison, who took Ben’s laugh as a challenge.

“Do you play?” Shep asked.

“I played in high school.”

“Suit up. Let’s see what you got.”

“Don’t put her on my team,” Ben mumbled, loud enough for Addison to hear.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Shep said, followed by, “I told you to be nice to her. Can you at least try?”

Addison purposefully held back during batting practice, wanting to see the look on Ben’s face when it counted. When she was officially up, she angled her feet to the base, got under the ball, and hit it right over Ben’s head into the outfield. The feeling of the ball hitting her bat, that moment of connection when you know it’s gonna be good, and the thrill of running the bases all filled Addison with a strength and confidence she hadn’t felt since that seminal moment at the office when the rug was pulled out from under her.

When she arrived on second base, he let her have it.

“There’s no way you haven’t played since high school.”

“I may have played in the Central Park advertising league—I didn’t want to overpromise.”

“You just did. These guys are gonna be all over you now—young blood.”

“Well, you would know about young blood.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he called out behind her as she ran to third base.

Ben spent a lot of time pacing and kicking the dirt until two innings later, when Addison was at bat again. Another double. As her foot landed on second base mere seconds before the ball, Ben repeated his last question.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Katie, my houseguest—young blood?”

“Please, it wasn’t a big deal. Don’t be such a prude.”

Not wanting to spend another second around him, Addison took off for third base just as the next batter hit the ball. Unfortunately, it was caught on the fly, and she awkwardly played monkey in the middle between second and third, while Ben and the third baseman tossed the ball back and forth over her head. Ben eventually chased her down, tagging her with the ball a little too aggressively.

“You’re out!” he yelled as she fell to the ground.

“Sorry,” he reached his hand out to her to help her up. She ignored it, got up herself, and stormed off the field.

While she had clearly had enough of the IRL Ben Morse, she spent the rest of the afternoon entrenched in his last novel. She laughed, she cried, she relished in the community of the story and wondered how close to the truth it really was. It felt very close, and Addison was left questioning everything she thought about Benjamin Morse all over again. She had to remind herself that it was billed as fiction. She couldn’t wait to rehash the experience with her friends and thought about sending them all a link to the book in advance—required reading.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

Regardless of any of it, Addison went to sleep that night heartbroken for the sweet man in the book who had lost his wife and unborn child.

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