Page 131 of Running Home to You
“No, but she wrote her a letter,” Mick said before Abby smacked her. She flashed her an orange slice smile in return.
T.K. groaned. “Not the letters.”
“I think it’s romantic.” Jill smiled. “What did you say?”
Abby shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Did she write back?” T.K. asked. “You know she’s—”
“I’d rather not.” Abby’s cheeks burned, and while her heart fluttered at the mention of her, she wasn’t ready yet. “Please.”
“Oh, here’s Junie.” Jill smacked the shoulders nearest to her. “Let’s go Junie!”
They cheered as she stepped up to the plate. She swung and missed the first pitch that Dylan lobbed in.
“That’s okay!” Abby clapped. “Just keep your weight centered like we talked about!”
“Scoot up in the box!” Mick shouted.
“No, stay where you are! Just let it come to you!”
“Rip it, Junie, this pitcher is a cupcake!” T.K. shouted, earning a glare from Dylan.
“The ball’s dropping early.” Mick shook her head. “Scoot up, Junie!”
“No, don’t!” Abby yelled.
Juniper turned back to them, eyes wide and exasperated by the conflicting advice.
“Choke up a little bit too,” Mick said.
Abby smacked down Mick’s hands as she demonstrated. “Don’t listen to Aunt Mick. Connect on a straight line, okay?”
“I’m her godmother,” Mick said. “She should listen to me.”
“Well, I’m her hitting coach.”
“Well, I’m an actual college coach now!”
“And I’m her mother!” Jill shouted over them. “Both of you shut up. Come on, June Bug, eye on the ball! Just have fun up there!”
Abby, Mick, and T.K. rolled their eyes at the advice. Juniper gulped and got back into position, and while it was nothing more than a children’s game, Abby held her breath. The pitch came in slow and when Junie made contact, they all leapt from their seats. As she rounded the bases, the fans thundering, the players scrambling to the ball, Abby swore it was the best the game had ever sounded. Gentler. Softer. Slower. Full of love and almost perfect.
“She should be here,” Abby muttered.
Jill smiled at her, Mick nodded, and as they lost themselves in high fives and hugs, Abby knew she was ready.
Insley
These days the table was full for family dinner. Two squirmy little boys, an old mustached man, a district court judge with the first traces of gray threading into his hair, and an effortlessly elegant law professor had already gathered when Abby slipped into the sixth seat. As she nodded at Audie across from her and smiled at Isla, who passed her the salad bowl, she wondered if they also thought this strange but warm mix of unlikely people was proof that they had achieved the impossible.
“Big game this weekend,” Audie said to her.
While it was just the alumni game, while she was nearing thirty and well past playing competitively, it made her feel young. Like another one of those moments they had missed out on but now got to make up for.
“Just hoping I don’t embarrass myself.” Abby smirked.
Audie shook his head, waving her off. He leaned conspiratorially to the grandson nearest to him. “Your aunt was the best hitter I’ve ever seen. She hit a home run almost every game.”
