"Spiral?" I ask, nodding toward the cage and motioning for him to get started.
"Yeah," Jo says. "She's sort of freaking out. Or was. I think. It feels like things ended better than they started, but she's scared."
My chest tightens. "Scared?"
"Yeah. I really think you should hear the rest from her, but just make sure she tells you, okay? Don't let her back out."
I shake my head trying to make sense of it. How could this happen after last night?
"Okay…" I say, though I'm still stuck in my head.
"Listen," she adds gently. "You guys will figure it out. But when she calls you, don't let her put it off—no excuses. She's about to make helping me her whole personality, I can feel it. But she deserves to be happy."
That part, at least, is clear.
"Yeah," I agree quietly. "She does."
"Okay, great. Well, then… batter up, Montgomery. And don't tell her I called."
"I won't," I promise, watching as Jace's face tenses when the pitching machine clangs to life. "Under one condition."
Jo scoffs playfully. "I knew I liked you."
"Tell me where you are."
Jace looks back at me, and I raise my brows. He shakes his head, but steps into his stance anyway.
"Ashford Hospital," she answers. A muffled voice over the loudspeaker calls for Nurse O'Reilly. "But we're leaving soon and heading back to my apartment."
"Where's that?"
"Briar Point. Should take like two hours."
"Perfect. Shoot me the address. I'm right behind you." I pause. "But don't tell her that either."
Jo chuckles. "And he hits it out of the park, folks. Good job, baseball boy."
I force a laugh, my thoughts already past the conversation. "Thanks, Jo. I'll see you soon."
I hang up the phone, unsteady. Somehow flooded with information but still missing the most important piece.
Tessa.
I turn toward the field.
"Roo!" I call. My little girl whips around, not a care in the world, completely unaware that her whole life is about to change—or maybe not.
Time to find out.
"Come here for a second!"
I filled Ruthie in—or at least gave her enough information that it wasn't a lie. I told her Tess needed my help, and she agreed I should go to her.
I think it helped that Jace offered to hang out with her until her aunt or uncle could come pick her up. He was a little less enthusiastic aboutSammy's nails on his leather seats, but the promise of a full detail seemed to satisfy him more than it probably should—especially with his salary.
So, here I am, standing in line at Drippy's for cinnamon rolls to bring to Jo's apartment. Is it the best thing to bring over after a diabetic scare? Probably not. But I'm not sure I've ever seen Tessa more content than when she has a mouth full of cinnamon goo and lips coated in icing.
I'm still not exactly sure what I'm doing. All I know is that Jo told me that she thinks Tessa's afraid, and I've decided it's my job to make sure that she isn't. Not now. Not ever.
