Page 18 of The Chad Next Door
Sister. So sheistheir aunt, which must mean she has a different last name. The kids likely took their dad’s name, though I didn’t find any info on him either. Hope would know, though now isn’t the time to ask something like that. Nor is it my business.
Is that going to stop me from digging? Probably not.
“So, is there a reason you’re holding my hand?” Hope nods toward our hands hanging between us, a little smile playing on her lips. “I mean, it’s a good hand, I know. But if you need help crossing the street, you only have to ask.”
She’s really going to lay into those old man jokes, isn’t she? I won’t let them bother me, even if they do.
“I can cross on my own, thanks.” And yet I still don’t let go. Why am I not letting go?
Lifting an eyebrow, she glances around the empty road as if searching for someone to help her out of this situation. Though, I don’t think she’s uncomfortable. She’s not giving off a wary vibe, just a confused one. I’m confused too. The last time we spoke, we both ended up frustrated.
“Are you scared to be out here all alone?” she asks.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not alone. I have Duke.”
“Ah, yes, the vicious retriever.”
The vicious retriever who is currently resting his head on her feet like they’re the best of friends now. It’s usually my feet that he’s warming, and I don’t like the jealous feelings creeping up in my chest. They’re feet, for crying out loud, and I’m usually more annoyed with him than anything when he does it. But Duke doesn’t like my siblings this much, let alone a woman he barely knows, so I have no idea what he’s doing right now. I’ve always been his favorite.
“Were the kids excited about going to a new school?” I ask, mentally kicking myself for making this even weirder than it already is. Why would I need to know that? I wouldn’t. I don’t. But I still want to know. And now I’m wondering if Zelda is making friends or if her strong personality is making her a target because a bully can get a reaction out of her. Is Link going to talk to anyone, or will he be as quiet as he’s been with me?
Hope swallows, her hand tightening around mine though she’s looking at Duke below us. “They were pretty on edge this morning, actually. Link wouldn’t let go of my hand when I dropped them off, and Zelda threw a fit when she found out they would be in different classes even though they’ve always been in different grades.”
“Oh.” I clear my throat, finally relaxing my hold. To my surprise, Hope hangs on. Maybe she needs the reassurance that she’s not failing as a parent just because her kids were afraid of a new situation. “When my brother and sister went to middle school, my sister Brooklyn had a meltdown. She and Houston were always in the same class growing up, and suddenly she had all these new teachers and none of the classes were with him. She didn’t know how to handle that for a while.”
When she looks up, there’s a bit of hope in her eyes, like she desperately needs to know that the kids are doing normal kid things. So I keep talking.
“Houston was fine, but he’s always been good on his own. He’s the most independent out of any of us, which is good because he’s on the road most of the time.” I cock my head. “Though, I guess he’s got his team with him.”
“Team?”
This has nothing to do with Link and Zelda’s situation, but Hope seems to be brightening back up again. I didn’t mean to bring her mood down, so I’ll do what I can to pull it up where it belongs.
“Yeah, he’s a baseball player. For the Red-tails.”
Suddenly Hope’s other hand is on my arm so she’s holding me with both hands and staring at me with wide eyes. “Wait, is your brother Houston Briggs?”
A smile breaks out of me, and I tell myself that it’s because she’s so excited. Not because she is apparently someone who enjoys sports because it doesn’t matter if she likes sports. It’s not like this is a relationship that will ever grow beyond this weird hand-holding thing we’re doing on the side of the road.
“Does it make me cool or lame if I say yes?” I ask.
She jumps up and down a couple of times, to Duke’s displeasure. “Definitely cool! I mean, I’m a Burrs fan myself, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love Houston Briggs too.”
I groan. “I can’t believe you just said that. You do know that the Burrs are playing my brother’s team in the World Series right now, right?”
Though she can’t help but grin, she tries to turn incredibly serious as she says, “Yeah, okay, well, it’s unfortunate that the Red-tails are going to lose tonight, but it’s still—”
“Excuse me? Have you seen them play?”
Honestly, I don’t care if they lose. Of course I hope they win, but if they don’t it means Houston only has to pitch one more game before he can get some real rest because he stresses over the games regardless of whether he’s pitching. He won’t admit it, but he’s slowing down, and I have my suspicions that he’s hiding an injury. He’s had a few odd throws recently that don’t make sense outside of an underlying issue that he’s probably ignoring because that’s what he does. He ignores problems and works himself harder, and one of these days something is going to snap.
Hopefully it isn’t one of his tendons doing the snapping.
Hope pulls me back to the present—literally pulls me closer—and narrows her eyes at me. “Yeah, I’ve seen them play, and they’ve lost two games already. Tonight’s gonna be the third, and then we’re only one game away from winning.”
“You mean the Red-tails?” I counter. “Yeah, you’re right. They’ll win tonight, and then Houston will be the starting pitcher again in Game Six. Your little Burrs are toast.”
Surprisingly, she seems to see some sound logic in my argument. Houston is pitching tonight, and he hasn’t lost a single game this season when he’s the starting pitcher. Barring something catastrophic, the Red-tails are going to win.
