Page 91 of Tagging Bases

We turn around and find two teenage boys watching us with amused expressions.

“Liam!” Charlie’s face splits into a wide grin as he bounds over to the taller of the two—a lean kid with a swimmer’s build and a mop of sun-bleached hair. He engulfs the boy in a bear hug. “Harrison, Daniel, this is my cousin,” he announces proudly, slinging an arm around Liam’s shoulders. “He’s the best swimmer on the Bomont High School swim team.”

“I don’t know about ‘the best,’” Liam mumbles, ducking his head to hide the pleased flush on his cheeks.

Charlie laughs and turns to the other boy, a stocky kid with close-cropped hair and a square jaw. “And this is Chet. He works part-time at the hardware store with Roy.”

Chet nods at us, his expression guarded but not unfriendly. “Nice to meet you,” he says in a voice so deep I swear it’s coming from the earth’s core.

I step forward to shake their hands, feeling somewhat self-conscious about my disheveled appearance. “Likewise,” I say with a smile. “Thank you for coming to celebrate Esther’s birthday.”

Liam’s eyes light up at the mention of the party. “Are you kidding? We wouldn’t miss it for the world. Aunt Esther and Uncle Robert throw the best parties.”

Charlie chuckles, ruffling Liam’s hair. “That they do, kid. That they do.”

As if on cue, Esther’s voice rings out across the yard. “All right, everyone! It’s time for the birthday girl to make her grand entrance!”

A cheer goes up from the gathered crowd as she emerges from the house, resplendent in a flowing sundress and a wide-brimmed hat.

“Let’s get this party started!” someone declares. And with that, the festivities begin in earnest.

I haven’t beento a birthday party in years because my parents always insisted that they were a frivolous waste of time and money. Something that only the less fortunate engage in to make themselves feel special for a day. Anniversaries, on the other hand, they celebrate with gusto.

“Birthday parties are for poor people,” my mother would sniff dismissively whenever I dared to broach the subject as a child.

It sucked having to hear about the other kids’ birthday parties when mine were marked by quiet dinners at home, a perfunctory “Happy birthday” from my parents, and no presents.

Watching Daniel spin a blindfolded girl around before gently guiding her hand to the donkey, a pang of sadness strikes through my heart at all the parties I never experienced.

The little girl shrieks with delight as she manages to stick the tail somewhere near the donkey’s left ear. Daniel scoops her up into his arms, peppering her cheeks with exaggerated kisses until she dissolves into giggles.

“Good job, munchkin!” he praises, setting her back down and holding his hand out for a high five. “You’ll be a master at this in no time!”

She beams up at him, her missing front teeth only adding to the adorableness of her smile. “Thanks, Mr. Daniel!” she chirps before scampering off to join her friends.

Daniel catches my eye over the children’s heads and winks at me. I return his wink with a blush and a smile.

Charlie’s voice pulls my attention away from Daniel and his gaggle of pint-sized admirers. “Dad! Come on, hurry up! We’re getting restless over here!”

I glance over to see him bouncing on the balls of his feet, two plates clutched tightly in his hands, as Robert carefully slices into the massive cake. The cake is a masterpiece—three tiers high and slathered in fluffy buttercream frosting, with delicate sugar roses cascading down the sides in an ombré of pinks and corals.

“I’m going as fast as I can, son,” Robert chuckles. “You can’t rush perfection.”

Charlie huffs out an impatient breath, but there’s a fondness in his eyes as he watches his father work. I smile at the sight of them together, the easy affection and good-natured ribbing vastly different from the stiff formality that characterized my family’s interactions over the years.

Finally, Robert slides two generous slices of cake onto Charlie’s waiting plates.

Charlie promptly spins on his heel, ready to make a beeline back to where I’m standing, but in his haste, he stumbles over his own bare feet. The plates tip precariously in his hands, and for a heart-stopping moment, I’m positive he’s going to slam right into the grass, taking our dessert with him.

But he manages to right himself at the lastsecond. He flashes me a sheepish grin as he closes the distance between us, holding out one of the plates like a hard-won trophy. “Voilà! One slice of the most delicious birthday cake known to mankind, just for you.”

I accept the plate with a laugh. “My hero, risking life and limb to bring me sugar. However, will I repay you?”

Charlie waggles his eyebrows at me. “Oh, I’m sure we can think of something.”

My cheeks heat at the insinuation, and I shove a forkful of cake into his mouth before he can say anything else. Charlie’s eyes widen in surprise before fluttering closed as he lets out an obscene moan of pleasure.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles around the mouthful of cake. “That’s fucking amazing.”

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