Page 75 of Houston, We Have a Problem
Darcy: Finally made it to Albuquerque! I know you’re at practice, but I figured you would want to know because you seem to like me for some reason.
I can’t help but smile at the way she so easily changes my mood just by being her. I should really get back out to the field—should I, though?—but there’s no way I’m going to be able to wait until later to let her know I can’t get her out of my head.
Me: Who could resist a furry face like that? I think you made the right choice.
Me: You only seem to be unlucky if I’m not around. Good thing there’s an easy solution to making sure you have all the luck you need. We officially need to spend as much time together as possible, for your own safety. ;)
Me: I’m glad you made it to Burque in one piece, but remind me to teach you how to change a tire when you get back. Only 31 hours to go…
I haven’t flirted over text since high school, but this is remarkably fun. And it’s nice that I can be a total dork without worrying that Darcy might start a smear campaign against me on Twitter as soon as I don’t live up to the hype.
I wait a couple of minutes to see if she’ll respond, but she must be busy doing whatever training she’s got. Right as I’m about to return my phone to my locker and head back outside, I get a text from Chad, which is as rare as it is concerning. Literally the last time he texted me outside of our sibling group chat was over three months ago.
Chad: Free to do lunch today?
“Well, this is new,” I mutter, trying to come up with a reason Chad would want to get together like this. He’s always been a workaholic—one could say the same about me—so we pretty much only see each other during family events. It’s not that I don’t want to hang with my big brother. I just don’t know what his goal is.
Guess I’ll have to find out. It could easily be that his girlfriend is as good for him as mine has been for me.
I send a reply, telling him what time I should be done with practice and asking for a ride since John still has my truck until I can get it back from him on Saturday.
He’s waiting for me when I leave the stadium, leaning against his truck and looking perfectly calm and casual. I knowbetter than to think his outward appearance has anything to do with what he’s actually feeling, but at least he doesn’t look angry. Chad may be a bit grumpy, but he rarely gets angry. When he does, it’s terrifying.
“Missed me that much?” I say as I toss my gear into the truck bed. “What about your lady friend?”
“Don’t call her that.” He waits until we’re both seated and on our way to wherever he’s taking us to say anything else. When he does speak, he’s hesitant. “Her name is Hope.”
“And who, pray tell, is Hope?”
The slightest shade of red rises up his neck. I didn’t know Chad could evengetembarrassed. “She’s…”
“Your lady friend,” I repeat and brace for his punch. The hit is only half-hearted, which I appreciate. “It seems like she makes you happy. I’m happy for you, man.”
“She has two kids.”
“And?” If any of us were meant to be a parent, Chad was. He practically raised Brook and me, and Micah looks up to him just as much as she does her dad.
Chad lets out a deep and weary sigh, like he’s finally realizing that holding up the world is exhausting. “What if I can’t be enough for her? I’ve already messed things up once, and we’re going to give things another try. But I’m not sure if…”
I don’t think Chad has ever confided in me like this before, and I really don’t want to waste this opportunity to help him the way he’s helped me so many times in the past, whether he knew it or not.
“I’m going to be serious for a second, okay?”
He glances at me. “Is that possible?”
“Only on rare occasions.”
“Blow me away, Texas.”
He’s the only one who still regularly calls me that, and I grin at the nickname. “I know for a fact I haven’t ever thankedyou, but you were the best big brother anyone could have asked for.”
He pulls into the tiny parking lot of our favorite Mexican restaurant, but he doesn’t look away from the windshield even after he turns off the truck. I doubt he expected me to say anything like that.
So I keep going. “You got the short end of the straw, being so much older than us, and when Mom died, you never got a chance to really mourn.” As if he isn’t fully aware of all of this. “The State made us go back with Dad, which meant you suddenly became a parent at fifteen, but I never once heard you complain. You may think we didn’t realize how crazy it was that a teenager would have to get a job to make sure there was food on the table, but we did.”
There’s definitely something stuck in my throat, which is ridiculous because I haven’t eaten anything all morning. There’s no way it’s emotion choking me up. Not a chance.
“It might make me sound ungrateful,” I say, quieter now, “but I was mad when Lloyd worked the courts so he could take us in. I felt like he was shoving it in your face that he was so much better than you, even if that’s stupid.”
