Page 65 of Curveball
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. So, no coffee tomorrow. Thanks for driving her today, though.”
“Hey, you already thanked me. And I don’t mind, at all. I told her to let me know if she needs help after she gets back from her trip.”
“She’s looking forward to it. Her trip, that is. Something about boys in board shorts. Lord help me.”
“Lord help Adele,” she adds, and we both laugh.
And . . . now I’m out here, standing beside her car, and our conversation is lagging. There are so many things I’d ask her about if we had more time than we do and I knew we wouldn’t be interrupted.
Has she heard from Alejandro Lopez again?
Has she missed seeing me the way I’ve missed her?
Can I take her out . . . to dinner, maybe? To Lower Broadway for the music?
Will she stay through the night so I can fuck her till it’s time for morning coffee?
Gunnar’s party might be fun. I want her to relax and enjoy herself. I don’t want it to be overwhelming for her, with so many people she doesn’t know.
“Hey, you want to come to tonight’s game? I know, you have school in the morning, and it’s not even my turn in the rotation, but you can meet some of the wives, and, you know, I’llbethere.” I sound like an eager teen, asking my crush on a first date.
I’m okay with that.
That is, until that damn regret shows up on her face again, along with a slow negative shake of her head that makes her beautiful wild curls sway.
“Wish I could, really. Dylan’s leaving tomorrow too, for his camping trip. And if I don’t help him pack, he’ll end up taking twelve T-shirts, one pair of socks, and no underwear at all.”
That motherhood thing again. She’s really good at it.
“Camping, huh? Sounds like fun.”
“Fun? I hope so, for him, at least. It seems like one of those rite of passage things boys should do, so . . . I’ll send him off with this friend and his family, and I’ll try to keep myself busy until Tuesday, so I don’t worry he’s gotten himself eaten by a bear.”
“Wait, he’s not coming home until Tuesday?”
She nods silently, a Cheshire cat grin on her face.
“I’ve got a three-day trip over the weekend but we both won’t have kids after I get home?”
“The baseball gods are good, right?”
I lean in and smack her lips again, just because I want to.
“I’m sure we’ll figure out a way to keep you occupied.”
The door slams and Nat thunders down the brick steps that lead from the front porch.
“The thought did occur.”
Heavy military-style boots clomp across the driveway, the passenger side car door swings open, and a backpack is tossed to the floor.
I lean in close, my invitation intended for one special person.
“Start by coming to my game tomorrow afternoon. I’ll leave you a pass.”
Nat slumps into the leather passenger seat with a heaved sigh. “Sorry it took so long. I thought I turned my flat iron on but I didn’t, at first, and then, I couldn’t get my bangs right, and . . .”
I tune out my daughter and focus on Palmer’s response.
