Page 60 of Love in Pieces

Abby tags along atpractice the next day. She invited Meredith to sit with her in the bleachers. I’m glad she’s still trying to maintain a somewhat normal life amid all this chaos. They sit high up where I can’t hear their conversation, but they’ve been talking the entire time. A smile has rarely left Abby’s lips, making my chest ease. Thank God for best friends. As much as I want to be the one who’s always keeping her safe, I can’t be the only one she relies on.

“You’re up, Dal.” Coach Charlie stands with one leg on a seat, resting an elbow on his knee. He lazily points toward home base, telling me to get my butt moving.

I nod, grabbing my usual bat on the way out of the dugout. I glance up toward Abby and Meredith, but they are far too busy talking to be paying any attention to this scrimmage. I have somehow managed to make it to second base after one of Dante’s wild pitches. With my hands braced on my knees, I’m ready to start running when a pop fly flies over Dante’s head, then over mine, and into the centerfield’s gloved hand. I barely move, knowing I’ll end up right back here. With two more strikeouts, I head back to the dugout to put on my gear but freeze just past third base when I see my dad sitting in the bleachers, watching me intently.

I blink a few times, making sure I’m seeing things correctly. Logan follows my gaze. He pats me on the back before pulling on my uniform slightly. “Let it go, Dal. Let it go. At least until the game’s done. Then you can have it out with him.”

I force the anger down and try to direct the emotions into the game. After an awful end to practice, the cool water from the locker room shower pours over my body. The spray of the water hitting the tile beneath me does little to drown out the noisy thoughts in my head. He hasn’t been to a game or practice in over a month, and now he decides he’s ready to waltz back into my life. Just like that? I don’t think so.

I pray that he’s gone when I leave but I have no such luck when I find him leaning against my car in the parking lot. Logan hastily turns around, trying to get away from the impending argument.

“Good luck. I’m going to go wait with Abby and Meredith.” He jogs away before I can protest, his shoes tapping lightly on the concrete before disappearing completely.

I roll my eyes, ensuring my dad sees the disgust on my face. “What do you want?” I ask, stopping a few feet short of him.

“I’m trying to be supportive.” His face is flat with no emotion to pick up on his true intentions.

“I don’t need your support or want it for that matter. I’ve been doing just fine without you.” My annoyance is clear, but I try to keep my tone calm.

“Really.” It’s not a question. “Because after what I saw today, I think you could use a few pointers.”

“Okay.” I move closer to my car, forcing the key into its slot. He moves just enough for me to get the door open but stands his ground. “If you’re here to tell me how bad I’m doing, you can leave. That’s what I have a coach for.” He takes a deep breath, cocks his head, and stuffs his hands in his pockets. I shove my bag into the back seat before turning to face him head-on. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

“I just want to talk.”

“About what?” I ask, my voice louder this time.

“Anything. I haven’t seen you since you asked for tickets to the game. I think I sent you the ones for tomorrow's game, right? Are you and Logan going?”

“No, I’m taking someone else.” I hang my head, trying my hand at a decent conversation.

“Who? Connor?”

“Just a friend. Why does it matter?” I lean my back against the car, watching a truck pull out of the lot. They hit the gas hard, leaving a trail of black smoke in their wake. Abby’s a bit more than a friend, at least I hope that’s what she’s thinking, too, but I’m certainly not going to tell him that. The last thing either of us needs is my dad butting into our lives. Abby certainly doesn’t need his two cents muddling up her brain during all of this.

“Congrats on graduating. I was there, you know. But you left with your friends so quickly after that, I never got a chance to congratulate you. I didn’t call or text after our conversation earlier in the week. I didn’t know how you’d react. Or if you’d even pick up.” He pauses, shifting on his feet. “When do you start at the hospital?”

The smell of the black smoke fills my nostrils when the wind shifts suddenly. I ignore the slight assailment, opting to answer his question instead. “Not for a while. I’m taking the position of a lady who’s going on maternity leave, but she isn’t done for another couple of months. So, I’ll be at Landry’s until then.”

“Well, I’m proud of you for following your dreams, whatever you decide.” He turns his head, likely trying to make eye contact.

I won’t grant him that. I’m having this conversation to get him off my back. “Yeah, thanks.” I keep my eyes on the ground, kicking a pebble away from my tire.

His head turns back toward the field. “You missed that last pitch. If you dig your right heel in a little—”

“Okay, time to go.” I open the driver’s side door, sliding in quickly, keeping the windows rolled up even though it’s boiling in here. The engine fires up easily, and my dad steps away. I don’t feel like picking a fight right now, and I don’t think he does either. I shoot Logan a text, practically begging him to come save me from my father. Dad gives me a strained smile but proceeds to his own car and drives off. Once he’s gone, I finally roll the windows down, the fresh air offering much-needed relief from both the heat and my father.

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