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“Play by play,” she lowers her voice and answers with a sheepish smile.
“Penelope, that’s fantastic. Congratulations!”
Sutton and Mandy finally release each other, but just barely, tears streaking both of their faces.
“Maxwell.” Mandy’s eyes roam my face and I feel myself growing nervous under her scrutinizing gaze.
“Amanda.” My voice cracks like a prepubescent boy.
“She’s my best friend.” I don’t have to ask who she’s talking about. Iknow.And I know Amanda knows Sutton has been living here. But I don’t know how much Sutton has shared with her. “I’m not going to give you the ‘take care of her or I’ll take care of you’ speech that you gave James, although it would serve you right. Just…be kind to her heart.”
“I will.”
As the sun starts to set, a few of the players with young kids start to pack up and head home, wishing us good luckbefore we set out for the All-Star festivities, and the rest of us gather around the fire pit, roasting marshmallows and swapping baseball stories.
As the fireworks start, Mandy takes her husband’s hand and holds it tight. Kaline sits by James, his head resting on James’s lap. Sam is inside on a video call with Maggie; Detroit’s game went late tonight but even time zones can’t keep those two apart. Sutton sits beside me on the ground, legs stretched out in front of her, face turned to the sky as she leans against me, and I wrap an arm around her waist, hoping the few remaining Olympians in the group don’t see – or choose to ignore it.
When the fireworks over The Sound wrap up, Elise and Sutton pack up leftovers to send home with Luca, Perez, and Nico, who gratefully accept the leftover chicken and side dishes.
“Need us to walk you home, Coach?” Nico hangs behind as Luca and Perez head toward the door. His eyes dance between me and Sutton and I see the moment awareness dawns on his face. “Never mind. Have a safe flight. Good luck in KC.”
“Thank you, Nico.” I pull him in for a hug before sending him off with the other two bozos that have wormed their way into my heart.
Sam and Kaline follow them out the door, promising to be careful on their walk home. I’m left with my sister, Sutton, and four party crashers that I’m a little worried are crashing in my living room tonight, but instead they’re helping Elise and Sutton clean up from the party. I join Jake and James on the patio, throwing away plastic plates and cups, and making sure all the furniture is back in place.
“Any trade rumors you want to share?” I casually ask as Jake helps me pack up the cornhole boards.
“Nothing you should be worried about. Although if you’dhave added a no-trade clause during your last negotiation we wouldn’t be worried about this.”
“Yeah yeah, easy for you to say Mister Television Analyst.”
“We should be going.” Jake pulls me in for another hug, and I hold on just a tiny bit longer this time, reluctant to let him go again. “We’ll see you in Kansas.”
The Hutchinsons leave and Elise disappears to the basement. After locking the doors and closing up the house for the night, I find Sutton sitting on the bottom step of the staircase that leads to the second floor, Loretta curled up beside her a purring like a six-cylinder engine. Sutton lazily combs her fingers through Loretta’s fur as I crouch down in front of them, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to Sutton’s cheek.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”
“Me too.” Sutton smiles, reaching out a hand, she grabs me by the shirt and pulls me in closer. Her kiss is far less gentle as she slips her other hand into my hair, tugging softly. Loretta coughs and retreats up the stairs as I wrap my arms around Sutton and deepen the kiss. The fireworks display tonight pales in comparison to the fireworks when her lips meet mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Slow Dancing
SUTTON
I always look forwardto the All-Star break. A week in July with baseball that I don’t have to be responsible for. A week to catch up on sleep and chores around the house. To take a vacation or visit friends and family. I usually get my best sleep during the All-Star break, but not this year.
No, this year I’m on a plane with Maxwell and Elise, on our way to Kansas City. As soon as our Sunday afternoon game ended, the three of us headed right for the airport so that we could have as much time in Kansas City as possible before all the chaos of All-Star festivities.
The votes are in, the teams are set, and the home run contest lineup is set. Max is ready to start, Roger is excited to get the team together, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not nervous. I’ve spent my entire coaching career with a team and a staff who know me, and are used to having me around. I’m going to be stepping into a clubhouse with some of the best ball players in the league, and my imposter syndrome is following me around like a sinister shadow.
Max, Elise, and I are staying in a short-term vacation rental for our time in Kansas City; close enough to the stadium that we won’t feel rushed on game day, but far enough away thatfor a few days we still have a little bit of a break from the business of baseball. Max and Elise each rent a car, and she hits the ground running, heading right toward the city to hit up a museum that she’s been excited about since getting word that Max would be taking part in this year’s game.
Max and I find the closest grocery store and he walks in with a list in hand. I offered to have groceries delivered to the house, but he insisted that we go to the store together and he has no impulse control. There’s a small gluten-free section in the store and Max deliberates over loaves of bread for so long that I’m able to grab all the fruits and vegetables on our list and come back to find him in the same place.
“We don’t need that,” he says as I reach for a box of premade pizza crusts. “I have a recipe.”
“This will save us time,” I insist. “We’re not here for fun, we have responsibilities, and I’m not sure that you’ll have the time…”
