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“What?”

“You…you’re different here. You never want to go out with me and the guys. You’re letting your gramps take you into the fields for, like, farming lessons and shit.” He tightened the Velcro on his batting gloves. “I came here to play baseball and hang out with my best friend.”

“We’ve been winning, Ben. And we can still chill.” I motioned to the field. “But I didn’t come here this summer just to party with Brett and Dominic or tag some buildings or cardinal statues. There’s too much at stake.”

“I know that.”

Coach Roeper yelled for me again.

“It’s like you said. If Granddad loses this tournament, we lose the farm. I…I can’t blow this. Not when it comes to family,” I said.

“And yet you’re still seeing her.” Ben stepped around me and started up the steps of the dugout. “You know, it’s funny. You used to call me family once too.”

Chapter Seventeen

Eliza

“One man in his time plays many parts.”

—William Shakespeare, As You Like It

The hardware store was unusually quiet for a Thursday morning. Thursdays were normally the days contractors came for supplies before taking on big weekend jobs. But judging by the sales reports Dad left open on the desktop computer in the back office (so careless…I can’t even), Thursdays had been slow like this for a while now.

Maybe Dad wanting to leave Fairfield wasn’t only about new stadium opportunities?

At the back of the store, Lauryn sang into the top of her broom handle like it was a microphone. She whirled around and belted the next few lines of “Waving Through a Window” from Dear Evan Hansen to the back wall of paintbrushes and tape.

I laughed and turned up the song from her playlist before I grabbed the box of gloves and headed toward Aisle Four, straightening the hammers and band saws as I passed through Aisle Three. I sang too, but much softer than Lauryn. Her voice belonged on the stage. Mine stayed in the shower.

After adding the new gloves to the display and straightening up the cleaning products in the plumbing aisle, I headed back to the front counter. Lauryn now sat on it, legs swinging and head down, while her hand flew over a page in her sketchpad. She held it up while I grabbed another box behind the register. “So what do you think? I’ve been sketching like a madwoman since we got back from the Gem and Mineral Show.”

I gawked at her newest design: earrings in the shape of a treble clef with stones framing the bottom. “Oh my God, they’re gorgeous. How will you get the stones in place like that?”

“With a good set of needle-nosed pliers and a hell of a lot of patience.” She laughed and closed the sketchpad. “So you wanna come over later? I’m in the mood to bake cookies.”

I nearly dropped the box cutter on the floor. “Your mom is letting you bake again?”

She huffed. “Come on, E. That was a long time ago.”

It wasn’t, but I didn’t correct her.

“Besides, Mom said I can bake again so long as I’m not home alone, so if you’re there, I’m good!” She smiled.

Lauryn’s mom put a heck of a lot more trust and faith in her than my parents did. The last time Lauryn tried baking, she almost burned down their apartment because of wax paper in a hot oven. It was…messy.

“I need to swing by the theater after work and set more cues. I’d really like to finish act one today. But I should be able to come over after dinner,” I said. With an extinguisher, just in case.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and something fluttered in my stomach when I read the text.

Reed: You busy right now? Wanna meet me at the Fairfield town sign in maybe a half hour?

I did a little jig behind the counter and showed Lauryn the text.

Her eyes widened. “What are you waiting for?”

“I can’t.” I frowned and gestured to the empty store. “I’ve still got a few hours left for my shift. And I really need to set those cues—”

“You’re ahead of schedule, right?”