Page 91 of Diamond Ring
“Then those people are fools, and you didn’t need them.” He considers. “Sometimes you try and you fail at things. It happens. But I don’t think you will. And the world would be better if we had more people unafraid to fuck up.”
“But what if...?” She trails off.
“You worried that what you’re dreaming of won’t match what you’re actually capable of doing?”
Evie gives a slight hiccupping nod.
“It won’t,” he says, and her face falls slightly until he adds, “it’ll be better.”
A paternal pronouncement, even if he means it. With that, a panging realization that he’s older than his father was when he died. A decade older than Sofia was when she first took Alex in. He expects Evie to bristle, to tell him to not treat her like a child, even if he thinks of her as one—that she’s somehow simultaneously nine and nineteen, his mental image of her overlaid like a photo.
Her shoulders soften. She wipes her eyes with her hand. “I really missed you.” And she smiles when he draws her into a hug.
“I’ve been thinking...” he says after he releases her. “What if after this season, I moved back here?”
“You’re done with baseball?”
“I’m considering retiring.”
“I thought you just said not to quit.” Said with enough sass that he rolls his eyes. “Sofia won’t say anything but some of the upkeep is getting to her. It’d be nice having you around.” She gives his wine, now hers, a swirl. “Wouldhebe coming with you?”
“Jakeand I haven’t decided.”
She gives a disapproving sniff that’s a replica of Sofia’s. “Figures.”
“It’s more complicated than that.” He reaches for the glass Evie’s holding. If he’s about to have a capital-letter Relationship Discussion, he could use the fortification. She pulls it away. “Get your own, Uncle Alex.” He laughs and begins the long walk across the yard.
When he gets to his room, Jake’s lying on the bed scrolling through his phone. “Everything okay?” he asks.
Alex didn’t play that day, but he’s still tired enough that he shucks his sweatshirt into the laundry basket and crawls onto the bed. Jake puts down his phone and lies on his side, curved like a comma, smiling as Alex does the same. For a second, the world is the brush of Jake’s feet against his and the trace of his hand at Alex’s hip.
“Evie and I worked stuff out,” Alex says.
“Good.”
“You asked me about moving back here. I want to. Maybe sooner rather than later.”
“Like at the end of the season?”
Alex nods. “I don’t think I’m going to play next year.” He looks down at the quilt, running his finger over the seams, focusing on the homey imperfections that come from hand-stitching. He doesn’t look up for a second, not wanting to see Jake’s expression. If he’s subtly disappointed or aggressively understanding or if he’s masking the former with the latter.
“You probably think I should keep at it,” Alex continues. “But I have enough money to not worry about it anymore—for all of us, my aunts and Evie. I feel weird telling you. You kept playing despite everything and I’m walking away when I should keep at it for love of the game or whatever...”
Another stroke of Jake’s hand at his side. “You played to support them?”
“Sofia didn’t have much when she adopted me. That couldn’t have been easy.” It feels vulnerable to admit, even here. “I played so they could have whatever they wanted.”
“Then you played for love too.” Said softly enough that Alex has to kiss him. Jake’s palm settles under his jaw, tilting his mouth up, and they kiss until warmth gathers between them. Until Alex has nowhere to look but at the threads of his eyelashes and the familiar curve of his smile.
“You know,” Jake says, pulling back, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d think Evie waited for you to come home to have that fight.”
“Sounds like it’s been going on for weeks.”
Jake tilts his head from side to side, not quite a disagreement. “Just saying you give awesome pep talks. I should know.”
“We’ll see if it takes.”
“It probably will.” Jake adjusts so that they’re lying fractionally closer. “I remember thinking how cute it was when you carried her back from a game that first year. And that you’d make a pretty good dad.”
