Page 110 of Time Out

“This is a house?” Ruth rasped from the back of Davis’s truck.

He’d already pointed out three homes where his teammates lived, but it seemed each home in the neighborhood grew larger and more impressive.

“It looks like a hotel,” she whispered, and I rolled my lips together to hide my smile.

There were moments Ruth was morose and quiet, where she watched Davis fold his own laundry and scowled like she should have been the one doing it. There were others where she showed her youthful innocence.

I much preferred these moments to the others.

“And they’re so kind,” I told her. “But if you get uncomfortable with anything, let me know, okay?”

“Will they be drinking?”

“Probably.”

“Dad says that’s a sin.”

“Technically, the Bible says drunkenness is a sin,” Davis said, and when Ruth talked like this, it always surprised me of his knowledge of the Bible. For some reason, he seemed to be able to help her more than me.

Although that could have been because, in our world, women were taught by men. At least about important matters.

“And having a drink or two, or for some people three, doesn’t make them drunk at all.”

“Yeah, but…”

“And there are verses about people being drunkards, which means they’re essentially drunk all day. But Jesus drank, didn’t he? And he made more wine so people could keep celebrating at a wedding?”

“Well, yeah…”

“No one’s going to be drunk here,” I told her. “But it is pretty common for people to have a drink or two of wine with dinner. It’s not like you’re going to get to a drink. You’re not even legal age.”

Ruth rolled her eyes, but her smile had returned.

Perfect timing because as Davis stopped his truck, the front door opened, and Belle rushed out.

Dressed in a midi-length floral dress, it flew in the wind behind her along with her blonde hair.

“Is that Belle?” Ruth asked.

“The one and only tornado,” Davis muttered.

I slapped his chest and hopped out of the truck as Belle wrapped me in a hug. “You’ve had the craziest week of craziest weeks.”

“Tell me about it.”

Since we were going to dinner at her parents’ house, both Davis and I dressed up. I think part of it helped Ruth feel better in her own floor-length skirt, even if it was clear the quality was no match for Belle’s designer labels.

Davis, for his part, had made me drool upon seeing him. Dressed in a deep, royal-blue but not quite navy suit, his tan shoes shined as he stepped toward both of us. All of it fit his body to one hundred and ten percent perfection.

“Hey Davis,” Belle said.

“Trainwreck express,” he greeted her with a laugh. Funny how he’d met her so few times and knew her so well.

“This is my sister.”

“Ruth.” Belle reached out her arm to shake her hand. Belle was a hugger, but I think everyone knew Ruth wouldn’t be receptive to hugs from strangers. Might have been the most insightful thing Belle had ever done. “I’m Belle. Annabelle, actually, but nobody calls me that. Welcome to my parents’ home.”

“Thank you.”

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