Page 104 of Between Now and Forever
“Hard.”
“Now you know howIfeel every day.”
She laughs. “Look, I know we talked about this last night. But if you don’t feel comfortable coming over here tonight, I understand.”
“Do you not want me to come?”
“I didn’t say that. It’s just that you aren’t here yet, and I know you got home about twenty-seven minutes ago because Carter yelled the moment you pulled into your driveway about wanting to go get you to play catch.”
I touch my still-swollen eye. “Do you think you could get him interested in something less painful? What about ... piano lessons?”
Gabrielle bursts out laughing. The sound settles in my gut, unwinding one of the knots that’s been plaguing me all day.
“No to the piano,” she says. “Your eye might feel better, but your ears would not.”
“Damn it.”I lean against the counter. “We’re hanging the light on the porch, right?”
“Yup. I about killed myself trying to get in the other night in the dark. It’s a matter of life and death at this point. I mean, I’d do it myself but—”
“It’s electrical,”we say in unison.
I can’t wipe the smile off my face. “I’ll be there in a few.”
“Okay.”
“See ya.”
“Bye, handsome.”
I slide my phone down the counter until it crashes into the bananas.This woman is going to be the death of me.
My boots are by the door. I slip them on and then head across the lawn. Carter sees me coming when I’m three steps into the grass and hauls ass across the yard. His hair flows behind him, and his smile is as wide as Texas. It does something to my insides that concerns me.
“Okay,” he says, stopping on a dime at my side. Then he walks beside me, no worse for wear. “I’ve been thinking. Some guys are field guys. Some guys are batters. Maybe you’re a batter.”
This child.“Carter, buddy, I have some old videotapes of me playing baseball that my mother took when I was in high school.”
“Really? They had videotapes back then?” His face contorts. “Wait. What’s a videotape?”
I sigh. “Anyway, maybe we can sit down and watch some of it before we practice again. Just so you know that I know what I’m talking about.”And that I was recruited by colleges my senior year.
“Okay.”
He has no idea what I’m talking about.
“Hey, Jay?”
“Yeah?”
“My brother might hate your guts, but I don’t. I like you.”
Whoa.I clear my throat. “Did Dylan say he hated my guts?”
“No. But it sure sounded like it.”
Fair enough.
Still, my hated guts twist as we reach the front porch. Carter babbles on about how to hold a baseball, but my mind is elsewhere.
