Page 36 of Proof

Luna chuckled. “I’m the one usually doling out platitudes.”

“Today it is my turn. I am sure it is nothing for you to be concerned about.”

“Then there’s this other thing.”

“What thing?”

“A friend from my past. It was fifteen years ago. I had a huge crush on him, and he fell in love with someone else.”

“Do you still have feelings for him after all this time?”

“No. Not in that way.”

“So what is the matter?”

“After he moved, we kept in touch on every birthday and holiday. We even had dinner after an alumni reunion. It was good to have my friend back in my life. During COVID, we were emailing each other every day, and then he suddenly stopped.”

“Have you tried to get in touch with him?”

“I sent an email a couple of days ago but haven’t heard back.”

“I am sure he will be happy to hear from you.” Chi-Chi’s calm voice was soothing.

“I’m sure you are correct.” Luna smiled.

“Come. As you say, let’s get this party started!”

Cullen was exiting the men’s room as Luna and Chi-Chi were leaving the ladies’ room. Cullen stopped short and caught his breath. “Chi-Chi. You look stunning.”

She smiled. “Thank you. And you look . . . hmm, you look like you need a fresh apron.”

Cullen looked down at his dusty trousers. “Good idea.” He nervously smoothed his hair. “See you in a few.”

Luna smiled to herself. She couldn’t remember when Cullen had been this awkward.

The guests began to arrive promptly at six. Gasps of delight echoed through the beautifully adorned atrium. More sounds of pleasure drifted from the patio, and moments later, the band began to play.

Everything was perfectly placed, with tables for the registration book, raffle, and the cranes and high-tops lavish with food. The party was in full swing as Ellie and her crew looked on. She looped her arms around Chi-Chi and Luna. “Bravo, ladies. But let’s try not to have to do this again.” The women cackled, but they knew should anyone have a party emergency, the Stillwell Center would be there to save the day.

Chapter Ten

180 miles away—Charlotte, North Carolina

Thursday Afternoon

Chicago Ain’t My Kind of Town

Chris was standing to the left and rear of the catcher. Carter was playing second base. A pop-up fly ball was aimed right at him, and he missed it. It was such an easy play. What happened? Chris thought to himself. He always maintained impartiality with the players, never showing favoritism to his son, nor did he reprimand him any more than he would another player. Besides, Chris believed in instructing rather than scolding. His voice was cool and calm. “Eye on the ball, guys.”

The batter took another swing at the ball, this time hitting it between second and third base. In an attempt to make up for his last mistake, Carter ran toward the ball, colliding with the third baseman. Chris blew his whistle and flagged the team over to the bench. “Today you’re playing against each other, but that is not an excuse for not paying attention. When we get to a real game on Saturday, everyone needs to be sharp. Alert. Mistakes can cost you the game.” The boys murmured their agreement. “Okay. Grab some water and pretend you are vying for the World Series.” Chris couldn’t help but notice that Carter seemed a million miles away. “Hey, pal,” Chris called out to him. “You okay?”

Carter gave him an adolescent shrug and walked back to second base. Normally, Carter had no problem telling his father what was on his mind. He hadn’t learned about “filtering one’s thoughts” yet. Maybe in a couple of years, he’d understand the positive uses of finesse, although many people never did. Chris chalked it up to his age and the awkwardness that went with it.

Another inning went by, and Carter appeared to be concentrating on the game—but still, Chris felt something was gnawing at his son. Tonight would be all about laying the cards on the table, allowing Carter to speak his mind about whatever subject he wanted, although Chris was sure most of the conversation would be about Chicago. Chris still wasn’t sure if Lucinda had told their son her plans. It wouldn’t surprise Chris if she waited until the movers showed up, but there was going to be a battle before that happened.

After six innings, Chris called the game. “Okay, guys, you looked better these past two innings. Play like that on Saturday.”

“You got it, Coach!” several of the boys shouted.

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