Page 16 of When Fate Breaks
“Mostly.”
“Well, here,” I motion towards the side gate leading to the backyard. “Let’s go drop those off in back first. No sense in you dragging that into the house for you to bring it right back out tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Blake says, following after me through the tall wooden gate.
I hold my breath as we round the corner of the house, knowing the greenhouse is about to come into view. The moment it does, I hear the wheels of Blake’s trunk skid to a harsh stop.
“Holy shit,” he breaths.
I cover one eye with my hand as I slowly turn back to him. I don’t even make it all the way around, however, before Blake is storming past me and into the withered structure. My stomach drops as I see him frantically spinning around, obviously not knowing which source of wreckage or disarray to take in first, his hand fisting into his hair. I cross my arms and keep my eyes on the ground, deliberately ignoring the exposed skin of Blake’s torso as his arm remains raised in the air.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I say.
“And what’s that?” Blake asks breathlessly, his back to me.
“It’s too far gone. And a waste of time…Yourtime.”
Blake freezes, turning back to me, his lips parting.
“I know it’s awful, but–”
“Evangeline.”
“What?” I question, glancing up and stumbling a step backwards when I realize Blake is now standing directly in front of me, his arm braced against the open door frame of the greenhouse. My eyes trail to his forearm, finally able to examine his tattoo up close. I notice now that there are mountains in the background, poking up from the tops of the trees. I also realize that the trees are actually surrounding a body of water.
A lake.
“If I’ve learned anything in this life,” Blake says, bringing my attention back to his face, “it’s that you so rarely have any idea what I’m thinking.”
My mouth falls open, heat rushing to my face. Blake tilts his head, his brows pulling together. I take a step back at the same moment he pushes off of the greenhouse, taking a step forward. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, but both of our heads snap in the direction of the house at the sound of the very loud antique door bell.
I turn back to find Blake’s eyes still glued to me, his mouth now shut. I swallow against the sudden dryness in my throat. “That’ll be dinner,” I mutter. “I ordered pizza. I hope that’s okay.”
Blake’s lips roll into his mouth. “Yeah, pizza’s great.”
“Great,” I say, walking clumsily backwards towards the back door of the house. “I– I’ll be right back.” Blake’s eyes follow me the entire way until I trip across the threshold, letting the door fall shut behind me.
4
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
“You locked the store up, right?” Mom calls from ten paces behind Dad and me as we power walk through the dirt make-shift parking lot.
“Yes, babe! Always do! Now, come on, you’re lagging!” Dad shouts back over his shoulder.
Mom jogs a few steps to catch up with us just as we cross under the red and white hanging banner readingMonty Classicat the entrance of the baseball park.
“Oh, sorry! I just keep feeling like we’re forgetting something,” Mom says, digging through her tote bag for the fourth time since we left the truck.
“It’s Steph, Mom,” I say, laughing. Steph is away at her first ever summer sleep-away camp in Dadeville for the week and our entire family has been out of whack since we dropped her off two days ago.
“Oh my God, you’re right, Annie,” Mom says, slapping a palm to her forehead. “My brain just isn’t used to this much quiet. It doesn’t know how to function like this.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing the Di Fazios are in town,” Dad chuckles. “Your brain will be back to normal in no time.”
We just reach Field #2 when we see Kyle Di Fazio standing on the top row of the bleachers, Emily sat next to him, waving his arms above his head and motioning us over with a huge smile on his face.
Blake started playing baseball at a local league shortly after our vacation in New York City and, apparently, he was pretty good. He’s now playing on a traveling team whose most recent tournament just so happened to be in Montgomery, Alabama, a short half hour drive (twenty minutes if you’re my dad) from Ramer. Dad promised Kyle we’d make an appearance, so we closed the hardware store for lunch this Sunday and ran over just in time to catch the end of Blake’s last game.
