Callie snickers at Leighton and Penelope.
“Fine.” He gives it back to Ellis.
Callie walks her up to the dartboard and presses it into the board with Foster’s help.
I remember Foster Davis in college. I remember him in the minors. I remember the younger version of him who would have made fun of the man he is today.
And last, my best friend on the team, Decker. I’m still not over the fact that we almost lost him as a teammate. The Colts wouldn’t have been the same without him.
Deep down, I always knew he was a believer in love. But he masked it well.
Decker and Penelope couldn’t get their shit together for so many years. Now look at him, sitting there with Penelope on one side and Hazel on the other, sneaking french fries to a golden retriever in a sports bar.
“Gentle, Sparkles,” he says, feeding the dog a fry from the Portillo’s they brought with them.
Did he even get a say in what they named their dog?
Love. Ugh.
They’re all happy. Even Decker and Foster have squashed whatever shit was coming between them. From what Decker told me, therapy got them to where they are today. It’s nice that we can all be in the same room without tension rising every time one of them says something to the other. The other day, I overhead Foster talking about their mom moving to Chicago to be closer to Ellis and Hazel.
So, I’m alone on the single train now. And that’s fine because I have the Chipmunks, although I wish their offseason coincided with mine.
“Another round of chocolate milks?” Ruby comes in with a tray for the kids.
Is this really my life now?
Sadly, it is. I love my friends, but I feel a little left out.
That doesn’t mean I’m going to try to find someone to settle down with though.
I check my phone.
There’s a text.
I read it.
I put my phone in my pocket, and I look around the table one more time. Decker with his family. Foster with his. Hayes with his. The dog on the floor who’s already won Ruby over. Just look at the dog treat on the tray of chocolate milks.
I finish my beer and stand. “All right.” I grab my jacket off the back of the chair. “I’m out.”
Everyone looks at me, then at each other.
“Where are you going?” Decker asks.
“Out.”
“It’s eight thirty.” Foster frowns.
“I’m aware.”
“You never leave before eleven,” Hayes says.
“New chapter.” I slide my arms into the sleeves of my jacket, then walk over to the door.
The whole table is still watching me. They never mind their own business. I can’t fault them—I don’t either.
I stop right before I open the door and hear Ruby talking on the other side. “What the hell? This is a bar, not the safe haven baby box at the fire department.” A few seconds later she walks in with a baby carrier.
