Page 22 of Double Play

“And you think I’m too stiff to relax?” She arches a brow, popping it higher than the ridge of her red glasses.

“I’m just curious where that woman went. The one racing out into the snow to make an angel. The minx daring me down a diamond run when I’d only ever been on flat plains and baseball fields.” The one having spontaneous sex with me in a cozy bathroom.

“That woman . . .” India lowers her lids. “Has lived a little more truths in her life.”

My brows pinch wondering what she means. Wondering what Isaiah has left out of my curious probing about his sister over the years.

However, with a sudden explosion of bright red and twinkling white lights against the midnight blue sky, our attention turns to the colorful display.

While India turns up the volume on the music streaming app, I focus on her more than the celebration.

With each burst of a new firework, her silvery eyes sparkle. Like a little girl enthralled by the explosion of color, she’s riveted to the confetti-like display. Yet beneath that childlike enthusiasm is a reminder that this woman still holds a spark within her. The one once flaming with confidence and drive. With humor and ease.

She still has those qualities, but like the initial boom of the shooting cannon and the sudden burst of the container, the softer side—the dripping sparks and drizzling flames—the brightness of the fireworks, is what I miss about her.

Again, watching her face, seeing her smile widen, hinting how much she’s enjoying the explosion of colors, makes her as brilliant as any firework.

More brilliant.

Wildfire.

ten

. . .

[Declan]

When the fireworks finally end, I insist India stay at my place due to the lateness the hour and the possibility of ridiculous traffic.

“You can take my daughter’s bedroom.” I pop open Montgomery’s bedroom door and India and I both stare into the space from the hallway.

In some ways, the room is a reminder once again of what happened between us. While India was in her mid-twenties during that wedding week, her bedroom in the Colorado house was still decorated for a younger girl.

I chuckle at the similarities and anxiously scratch the back of my neck, like I’ve walked a girl to her front door, and I don’t know whether I should kiss her or not.

Then again, I wasn’t one to date much and front porch kisses happened only back in high school.

India and I seem to prefer bathroom meet-ups.

“I really should get home,” she repeats for the fifth time, while keeping her eyes trained on my daughter’s double bed.

I could suggest we share the room together, instead of me taking the couch. However, there is something about sleeping in my daughter’s room next to India that won’t work for me. Plus, I’m used to my couch. Often my own bed feels too lonely, and I fall asleep on the couch watching game tapes.

“If you’re sure?” she questions like she did earlier about my invitation to join Isaiah and me at my place for dinner.

With a smile that isn’t forced, I emphasize. “I’m certain.”

I’m certain that I want to know her again. Know more about her. Her past. Her plans. But now isn’t the time to push. Instead, I leave her in Montgomery’s room with a Tennessee Terrors shirt of mine and an old pair of boxers I never wear anymore.

When I lay on the couch, I stare at the ceiling. My body is wound tight as if it knows India is on the other side of the wall. My apartment isn’t very big and on either side of the living room and kitchen combination is a bedroom, each with a bathroom. That’s it. All the money I have, and I chose to live in such a confined space.

However, the claustrophobia never got to me until tonight. Until India Baker is on the other side of a thin wall, where I hear the bed rustling like she can’t get comfortable in Montgomery’s room, like maybe she isn’t content being near me. Or maybe . . . she’s just as restless because of me.

On that note, the door to Montgomery’s room pops open and I immediately sit up on the couch.

“Everything okay?”

My question startles her, and she lets out a sharp but quiet squeak. Her hand flattens on her chest, just over the Terrors logo on the T-shirt she’s wearing. My tee.