Page 86 of Run the Play
Corie stops walking and turns to stare at me. “Are you being real right now? You’re buying a ring?” Her eyes are wide and full of excitement.
“Correction. I bought a ring. I need to pick it up.”
“How would you have done that if she agreed to come with you?” She places her hands on her hips, tilting her head to the side.
“Easy.” I shrug. “I would have told you ladies to do your thing and that I had some things to pick up on my own. It would have worked out just fine. It just so happens that it’s easier this way.”
“Can we do that first?” She’s practically bouncing on her toes.
“Let’s wait until the end. I don’t want to lock it up in my truck, and I don’t want to pack it around all day.”
“When are you going to ask her?”
“Soon. When you know, you know, right?”
“Dad used to say that.”
“He did, and I feel it in my soul. There will never be anyone else for me but her.”
Corie slaps my shoulder. “Stop it. You’re going to make me cry.” She blinks a few times and pushes her tears away. “I’m going to get a sister.”
“Yeah, Core, you’re going to get a sister. Now, let’s spoil her.”
“Okay, what are you thinking?”
“Anything. Everything. She’s gone so long with the bare minimum. Even when she was with He Who Shall Not Be Named. I just want to give her the world.”
“Let’s start with some clothes, oh, and a new handbag.”
“I trust you. You know her style. I’m just here to carry the bags and swipe my card.”
“Best day ever!” she cheers and leads me into the first store. She goes from rack to rack, pulling things off and tossing them over her arm. She’s smiling widely.
“Toss some things in there for you too,” I tell her.
“Oh, I’m all set. My closet is busting at the seams, but thank you. Save your shopping spree for your future wife.” She skips off to the counter, and I trail along after her. I swipe my card, and we’re off to the next store.
My sister definitely understood the assignment. The entire back seat of my truck is filled with shopping bags.
“Is it too much?” Corie asks, biting on her bottom lip. She’s trying to hide her smile.
“Nope, and if Rowan complains, I’ll tell her to blame you. That you needed retail therapy.”
“I’ll take the heat.” She laughs, just as her phone pings.
“Work?” I ask. It’s Saturday afternoon, and we have a bye this week, but as the social media director, she works odd hours.
“Yeah.” She taps her phone, and her mouth falls open. “Wait. What?” she says. I watch as she reads whatever it is on her phone.
“Everything okay?”
“Landry, look at this.” She turns her phone toward me, and I ignore the article headline for the image. It’s of Corie and me and our parents at a Rampage game. I know exactly when that picture was taken. I was eleven and Corie was four. It was the last game I ever attended with my dad—emotion wells in my throat, sitting heavy on my chest.
“What are they doing? Digging up old articles about our parents now?” I ask, trying to understand why a media outlet would be interested in this.
“Did you read the headline?” she asks.
“No.” We just got back to my truck. I didn’t check my phone while we were shopping. I’m eager to get out of here and get home to Rowan, but whatever has my sister’s attention on her phone, has me keeping the truck parked.
