Page 23 of Curveball
“Thanks, bug,” I murmur. I crumble a small bit of the bread into my bowl, then take a bite. I close my eyes and hold in the hum of appreciation that should probably be left for the bedroom.
And here come distracting thoughts of my Palmer Girl and the soft scent of her when I kissed her neck.
“You outdid yourself, Adele,” I announce, out of gratitude, sure, but mostly to divert my thoughts.
She thanks me for the compliment and I turn my attention to Natalie.
“Okay, this stuff you talk about.” I roll my finger to let her know I’m waiting for the play-by-play.
She dips her spoon into her bowl and lets it hover. “Well, you know, school stuff. Classes, and, oh, our last parent conferences are this week. You should get an email.”
“I’ll watch for it. Dilly might need to take this one too. I nod and wind up my finger again. “Don’t stop now.”
“Well . . .” Her eyes hit the ceiling, as though the answer she needs can be found up there. “We talk about how we’re both into sports. The varsity catcher hurt her knee and I want to get moved up from JV. He was giving me pointers for talking to the coach.”
She puts the bite into her mouth and dips the spoon back into the bowl. So far, she’s matching me bite for bite.
Adele had served us all a glass of sweet tea, and I take a sip.
“That was good of him. You learn anything worthwhile?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll talk to her at school tomorrow.”
I pause for another bite and organize my thoughts.
“How’s everything going for him and baseball? Dylan—is he any good? He told me he’s working on his slider.”
She shakes her head. “He’s mad because the pitching coach is moving to a school way down in Lynchburg, and he’s not even waiting till the season is over.”
Adele looks thoughtful, and then adds, “That doesn’t sound like a fair deal. Does the school have someone to replace him? Or maybe his parents can find him a private coach if he’s got that kind of talent.”
It sounds like a bigfuck youto the players on the team—the rest of the coaching staff, too—and pretty unusual. Good chance there’s more to the story that the administration isn’t making public.
Finished, Nat drops her spoon into her bowl and lets it clatter. “Well, you see, that’s just it. His ERA is crazy good. Like,he’s on track for All-State.” She takes a breath and reaches for Adele’s hand. “We’re so lucky to have Dilly to help, but his dad is . . . gone.”
Adele pats her hand. This woman is strong, but she has a soft heart for our girl.
Nat turns her eyes to me, and her lashes are wet. “I know how it’s hard to get me everywhere I need to be. But he doesn’t have time for much extra when his mom has to work all day.”
Gone. The fuck does that mean? Gone, like, out of town, or gone, like, permanently, for any number of reasons. My imagination is off the rail, but my memory is crystal clear. Her lips fervent on mine. Her eyes teasing me only yesterday. My dick . . .oh fuck. I dive off this train and back into real life.
Adele’s bowl is empty and she sops up what’s clinging to the bowl with her last bite of cornbread. Come October, I’m eating a whole damn pan of the stuff, not the single bite I allowed myself today.
She peers up over her empty bowl to ask Natalie, “So, you just talk about school stuff? Nothing that’s going to make me worry?”
Nat nods and swallows a nibble of cornbread. “Mostly we help each other study, so we don’t get behind like before. He’s really smart in algebra, but he sucks in English lit.”
“But he’s only a friend?” So far, no stalkerish or serial killer vibes. But still, my voice is a little harsher than I intend, and Nat lifts her overly patient gaze to me.
“Well, yeah, Daddy. He’s not, like, my boyfriend or anything. Becauseeww. This isDylan.”
But Dylan isn’t hideous, and chances are reasonable he isn’t a eunuch.
I want to relax when she swears they’re just a boy and a girl who happen to be friends.But before the concept has a chance tomorph and solidify as comfort in my mind, Adele kicks me under the table andoh, shit. Hannah and I were just friends.
With benefits.
Chapter 10
