Page 70 of Undeniably Perfect

Amery punches his arm.

“Hey, hands off the merch. That arm has gotta see us through the World Series.”

“Don’t fuck around with her. Tell her how you feel. That’s all I have to say about it.”

“I will…I will…I just need to get through the next few days.”

“You ready for this?”

“The series or Tabby?”

Amery runs a hand through his hair. “Well, both I suppose.”

“Series, fuck yeah. I feel good about it. We can do it. And Tabby…she’s mine, she just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Well, then. I look forward to watching you win…the series and the woman.”

“Thanks. How’d you tell Lyla that she was the one?”

“Just say the words. I had to get up the guts to admit it out loud but after that…well, that’s all she needed to hear.”

“I’ve never felt this way before,” I admit. I immediately hear footsteps behind us.

“Fuck…did you guys just start batting for my team?” Ward’s voice comes from behind me.

I roll my eyes as I turn around. “No, you fuckknob. I’m talking about Tabby.”

“Oh, ’cause that shit was gonna get real awkward if you were professing your love to Amery right here in the parking lot.”

“You’re such a fucker, Ward.”

Ward grins at us. “Takes one to know one. Hey, did you make Tabby meow, because, with that giant-ass grin on your face all of practice, it was sort of obvious that you got laid.”

I punch Ward in the arm, and he doesn’t even flinch. “Ow!” he says overly dramatic.

I give him a pointed look. “Whatever, and none of your fucking business.”

“Just don’t fuck things up and get in a funk before the series. We need your head in the motherfucking game.”

“Noted. No pressure.”

I climb into my car and give my friends the one-finger salute as I pull away. Time to go relax with my lady.

Tabitha

I look at the computer again, checking every detail of my photos. I hit the “no going back” button. They are off to be officially printed for the gala. Each individual will sign their wall-sized photograph and it will be auctioned off for the children’s hospital charity. I’ve had exhibits before, but I haven’t done a gala like this. It’s a big opportunity for me, and that both scares and invigorates me. Portraits are my bread and butter, and this could put my business on the map. I sigh, realizing that to be on a map I need a studio. I send a quick email to my insurance adjuster inquiring about where we are with my claim before I look back at the photos I’ve just sent for printing. These versions are for the actual subjects. I always give them their own copy as a courtesy. And I may have made an extra one for the Moores’ hallway of photographs.

I smile remembering it. There’s a small hallway beyond the foyer in their home and Mrs. Moore has family photographs hung all over it in no particular order. There are family photographs of all the kids at different ages. Some just with one kid or two or all five of them. A few of the entire family and some with their extended family and friends. I look down at my purse. I have two photos of my mom that I found at my grandparents’ house. One of her when she was a kid playing in the snow and one of her when she was a teenager.

Everything else was destroyed in the fire. Seeing what Mrs. Moore called her “wall of fame” made me want one of those someday. The thought of having a family is both terrifying and happy at the same time. I’ve snapped so many candid shots of families down at the National Mall, and I love looking at them. Parents playing with kids, siblings running around and playing games, little ones sitting on their parent’s shoulders, babies in their mother’s arms. I have a whole album of them. I find them fascinating. There’s just something about families. Maybe it’s because I never had a real one, not like the kids I grew up with or families on television. Part of me so desperately yearns for that it physically hurts. And another part of me is terrified that if I let people get that close that I would fuck it up and lose them. I don’t know if I could go through that again.

My phone pings and I look down to see an email from my insurance adjuster.

Phil: We just got a police report. They should be sending it your way soon, but I attached it to the email. Jarrod admitted to starting the fire. We will be issuing a final check for the remainder of your insurance claim.

I stare at my phone in shock. A moment later it rings.

“Hello?” I answer.

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