They never hated the man like my dad evidently did, but they never joked with him the way they already do with Sean.
It’s bizarre, feeling torn apart like this. Missing Meryl and her kids so much that it physically hurts to think this may be the last time I ever see them again. But at the same time, wishing they’d never come at all.
And I can’t talk to Sean about any of it.
Partially because we have an audience, and partially because whenever I slip my hand into his?—
He doesn’t squeeze.
Aldridge returns from taking Phineas to the restroom. When he sits, he says, “Kay, the crowd looks good today. I’d heard attendance was down from last year, but it looks like you’ve solved that problem. Do you think it’s the roster shift or the PR push?”
I think it’s Sean.
But I can’t say that. I don’t want to put Sean on the spot, and I don’t want to minimize my efforts or the team’s.
“You forgot a third factor,” Sean says. “Kayla. She shows up at every church potluck, Little League game, and town council meeting. People see her face. They know she’s not just a name on a sign or an owner in her luxury box. She cares about people. They can feel that.”
I don’t know whether to kiss him or cry. He knows how hard this has been—he’s seen every awkward potluck, every side-eye at city hall. But he says it like he believes it and like everyone else should, too.
Before I can respond, Aldridge grabs my attention again. My neck is starting to hurt from looking back so much.
“Still,” he says, casually. “The numbers look good. I’m curious how you pulled it off.”
“Are you looking for trade secrets?” I ask as something cold starts to curl around my ribs.
“No, I swear,” Aldridge says, holding his hands up and laughing. “I only came because Phineas’s club soccer team had a tournament in Columbia this weekend. Meryl wanted to take the kids somewhere fun before we head home.”
“No, I wanted to seeyou,” Meryl amends. “I miss you, Kay.”
I feel like I’m swallowing broken glass for how it cuts all the way down.
“And I tagged along because I’m the World’s Greatest Uncle. I have the mug to prove it,” Aldridge says with a cheeky grin. “But yes, I am asking for tips. You have the Midas touch.”
“That’s the truth,” Meryl says. “Kayla can turn any garbage situation into gold. Do you remember that gala you helped me with?” She laughs. “I nearly had a nervous breakdown when a big CEO showed up unannounced with her five poodles, but Kayla just cleared one of the tables, asked the caterer to whip up five bowls of plain chicken, and convinced the photographer itwas a great PR shot. We raised an extra twenty thousand dollars from that photo, alone.”
I smile, caught between pride and nausea. I remember that gala. I threw up that night on the way home from not having eaten all day. Aldridge ordered me chicken soup from a nearby deli, tucked me into bed, and slept on a chair in my room to watch over me.
“She’s amazing,” Aldridge says, his voice tight, like he’s remembering the same thing.
I glance at Sean, trying to read his expression, wishing he’d put his arm around me and claim me as his, already. Wishing he’d go alpha or get super territorial—anything except this polite distance that feels nothing like the man I’ve fallen for.
A thud sounds behind me, followed by a squeal, and then lemonade splashes across Sean’s back and shoulder. He jolts forward.
“Oh no!” Meryl says behind me.
Sean stands up, twisting to see the damage as Meryl and Louisa both apologize. I scramble for napkins, but Hunter, sitting two seats down, raises a hand like he’s got the answer to everything.
“Sis,” he says, completely calm. “What are you scrambling for?” He lifts his T-shirt cannon and points it at Sean’s face. “Catch.”
With a loud pop, the T-shirt fires at Sean’s face, and he catches it like only a goalie can. He unravels the shirt and looks at it with a laugh.
“If She’s Your Wife, Why Is She Playing With My Mullet?”
We all groan.
“What the heck, Hunter?”
“Don’t act like you don’t love it. You married the mullet.”
