Page 37 of Stealing Second

“You didn’t think so last night.” His lips twitch up as he nods to the door and turns around, putting his back toward it. “Code.”

It doesn’t go unnoticed that Rome turned his back so that he’s not privy to my door code. This leaves me to wonder if he’s a good guy or a bad one, trying to make me think he’s this thoughtful.

“Right.” I punch in the code then open the door. “We live next door to one another. I don’t want?—”

“Cecilia.” His calm, commanding voice stops me from continuing.

I walk in and set everything on my island, making sure there is no space for my ass to be placed, then turn and look at him. “It just won’t?—”

“It’s raining. We’ll discuss this when there’s time.” He nods toward the porch. “Let’s get your things in before it really starts coming down, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

After everything that needs to be brought in is unloaded from my vehicle, I turn and see him, hands shoved in his pockets, standing in the light drizzle at the bottom of my porch stairs.

“Need any help getting things set for your family’s arrival?”

“It’s very nice of you to offer, and thank you for your help, but I’m good.”

He nods toward his place. “You change your mind, all you have to do is holler, okay?”

“Okay.”

He’s walking away, and as beautiful of a sight as it is, there’s something about it that just doesn’t feel right. But trusting my gut when it comes to people—specifically men—has never served me in a positive way. Just this once, though, I would love to wish that Gym Bro/Hot Neighbor/Rome could be like the men I know who are good. Men like my brother-in-law and Doc Underwood. Or like Francesca and Fawna, who are constantly saying how overprotective their fathers are but make it seem like a good thing. That way, I might finally be able to feel the things I know I should … especially now, after the whole counter incident that runs through my head like a movie reel.

Then I remember a conversation with Fawna and Francesca.

Francesca told me, “As adults, we tend to forget the magic of the wishes we made as children. It’s time to tap back into that.”

I could not recall ever throwing those precious wishes away on things like happiness or love. I saved them for warmth and safety for me and my sister.

8

The Game

Sunday

Eyes on my phone screen, I watch Chloe’s location dot move from Trenton-Mercer Airport closer and closer to me. I’m excited and much less anxious to see Chloe than I have been in years. I hated feeling like a burden and that I always needed something from her. She was adamant that I was going to put that giant brain of mine to good use. She’d put me before herself since as far back as memory serves. Even when I didn’t do the same for her all those years ago.

Chloe is three years older than I am. She’s the one person in my life who’s been a constant and whose love never came with a string. I’m not sure how old I was when I found out Chloe was my half-sister, but it was many years after our mother’s death. Sadly, I don’t remember much about our mother. I’m not even sure the memories of her are my own or if they’re ones Chloe shared with me through stories or pictures.

My parents married when Chloe was just three, and I was born ten months later. Our mother died when I was four.

In the photos I’ve seen, we looked like a happy family. Mom was beautiful, stunning. My father was an average-looking man, but people were drawn to him because he was charismatic and very rich. He was a lawyer to the stars.

Chloe looks just like our mother, both blonde with the body of a pinup model—voluptuous, glamorous. She’s always done up, like our mother was in pictures. She’s never hidden the fact that her body is only more like our mother’s because her ex gave her fake boobs as a Christmas gift.

I have red hair and am five-foot-four, and my curves didn’t come until much later in life. Chloe has always told me that I’m the one who looks most like Mom. I have her eye color, the large, roundness of them, her lips, and her face shape.

I never liked my sister’s ex. I even asked her why she was with someone like Spud White. She said it was because he made her feel like the queen of their mobile home. That imaginary crown he gave her came at an enormous cost. The price was almost her and Danny’s life when she finally left Spud. Danny was only with her by coincidence—they weren’t together at the time. Spud shot him and beat them both with a baseball bat. It happened in my last year of undergraduate school, and then I told her that I wasn’t going to vet school. I would not let her sacrifice any more for me. That was when she took a job as a nanny with John and Whitley Paul and was able to get her cosmetology license, and then she went on to finish her four-year degree in education online.

The way Danny loves her, that kind of love, it’s rare and beautiful and, at times, kind of hilarious. She might as well have shoveled dirt on him, just to see how long it would take for him to walk away. He didn’t. He stayed the course. Danny waited for her to heal physically, emotionally, and mentally for years. It took that long for her to finally believe he loved her and for her to believe she deserved love. Hell, I think he enjoyed the push and pull, the challenge of showing her in every way she needed it that he wasn’t going anywhere.

After Aggie came, it was like a switch flipped. Now they’re a united front. I never doubted she’d be an amazing mother, even though there was a time when she herself did. Now, they help Whitley and Pope run a national organization that helps abused women and children get back on their feet after leaving their situation.

I head over to the oven, open it, and peel back the foil—aka The Texas Crutch—and see that the brisket is moist and falling apart. It’s perfect. Next, I check on the mac and cheese. I used the same recipe that Chloe always did when making it for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

When I was home for the holidays, Spud used to mock our traditional meal, always saying she wasn’t living in old man Summerland’s camper in the woods anymore—like Spud’s place was a fucking palace—but she still made it as a side. She and I would eat it for days.

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