AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Can we, Mom?”
She blinks at me, and the corners of her mouth turn up just a tiny bit. When she looks at Ryle, though, the smile grows.
“Sure.”
21
Julie
Eric drops Dani off at the game. He’s meeting Jerad at some apartment complex. I guess Jerad really is thinking about moving here. Thankfully, Dani finally quit trying to push me at him. We’ve hung out a little bit this summer—the four of us. I’ve made it clear I have no interest in dating him. I’m nervous about tonight, though. About Dani sitting so close to me on one side, and Truman and his family on the other side. I mean, Truman and I aren’t hanging on each other. In fact, there’s at least a foot between us on the bleacher, but we’re talking and laughing together, and his family is talking to me like I’m part of them.
Dani notices. Of course she does. She catches my eye a time or two or ten and raises her eyebrows as if to ask what’s going on, if I’m okay. Beyond telling her that Truman and I have been talking more lately, I haven’t said much about it. Whatever Truman and I are doing feels special, and it’s all new again, and that makes it fragile to me. I’m not ready to share it with anyone, not even Dani.
Instead, every time she catches my eye, I smile to let her know it’s okay. I’m okay.
Ryle does get a nice hit, though it’s not exactly a homerun. His coach helps him stretch the hit into extra bases, and he sends him home even though the pitcher is holding the ball. The lefty on the mound makes a play on Ryle at the plate, and naturally, my kid slides dramatically and comes up with at least half the dirt on the infield on his pants. He throws his fists in the air, and his buddies slap him on the back.
It's painfully adorable, because it takes me back to Truman’s high school baseball days, and our son looks just like his dad. And because it gives me a vision of what my kid’s going to be like when he’s older. For a minute, time flies, and I’m sad about losing my son.
“Hey.” Truman bumps my arm with his. “What’s wrong?”
I meet his eyes and laugh softly. “I just had a flash of Ryle playing varsity ball like you.”
Truman’s smile is like a warm, solid hug on a cold winter day.
“We’re gonna blink, and this is all gonna be over.”
Truman acknowledges the truth in what I said with a small nod. “But. Hopefully when we get there, we’ll still have each other.”
His quiet words are like an arrow—Cupid’s stupid arrow—in my heart.
“Do you think so?”
“And…” He leans in close to me and whispers so only I can hear him. “We could have more babies.”
Floored by what he said, at the thought of Truman and I making a future together, having more children together, the implication of that—of being with Truman that way again—I stare at him in stunned silence. Dani leans close on the other side to say something, and I feel heat rise in my cheeks.
Truman tips his head to study my face. I glance at Dani and then look back at him.
“No?”
He hasn’t said he loves me. But maybe he does. Maybe if he’s talking about being together when Ryle gets older, if he’s talking about having more kids, maybe he does love me. My heart is pounding in my throat, and I’m hyperaware of Dani watching us now. Rather than answer Truman with words, I reach for his hand and link our fingers together. Truman holds on, even when Dani makes a show of looking.
Ethan catches a pretty nasty-looking fly ball on second. It’s a high one—Twain calls it a tall can of corn—and it looks wicked, like it’s got some spin on it. Maybe the batter hit it off the end of the bat. Ethan looked equal parts thrilled and surprised to catch it. When their team comes off the field after the final batter, Ethan looks at us on the bleachers and flashes us a thumbs up.
“Wish we would have recorded that,” Harper says with a groan.
“I did!” Lilian leans forward and rests her hand on Harper’s shoulder. Still in the cast, Harper is on the bottom bleacher. She turns with a smile to thank her mom, but her eyes stop on me and Truman. On our intwined fingers.
I don’t know why but I hold my breath. Harper and I have talked more this summer than we ever did before. She’s been at my house a few times, enough to stir things up between me and Truman. She meets my eyes and smiles, and I know then she said the things she did on purpose. Maybe Truman talks to her about us. Maybe she had a hunch. Whatever the case, she meddled, but at the moment, I’m kind of glad she did.
The rocket pops on ice are a hit after the game. They’re still frozen. The boys are thrilled. And it’s hot enough outside that the parents don’t say a word about the cold, sugary treat. I stand at the end of the bleachers watching the boys gather around Ryle, all of them talking to him and at him all at once. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him this happy. It wasn’t that long ago that Ryle was a very quiet boy.
“Where’d ya get these?” One little boy asks Ryle.
“You can get ‘em about anywhere,” Ryle announces. His nonchalance tickles me. “But my mom and dad got ‘em for me.”
My heart is so full at the moment it hurts.
