Page 62 of The Score We Never Settled

With her being with me full-time.

“But you’ve thought about it?”

She bobs her head side to side like she’s ping-ponging the idea in her head and chews.

And chews.

And chews.

And fucking chews.

“Layla Jean…” I warn, because the uncertainty of what’s going on in her brain is unsettling.

We’ve spent two and a half years with this long-distance thing, and it’s been hard. Layla comes up to Tennessee when she can get away, and I’ve been working my ass off to be ready when my coach or the director calls me in with the news I’ve been called up to the MLB.

The last few weeks have been especially hard because I’m getting homesick.

I’m getting Layla-sick.

We have phone conversations every night, video calls mostly, but it’s not the same. The relationship we have doesn’t haveprecise names attached to it because she refuses to tell her Uncle Ben that she’s in love with me until the time is right.

I still don’t know what that means.

She’s about to turn twenty-one, I already am, and I’m ready to move forward with our lives and strengthen what we have.

But with the miles and mountains between us, the every-couple-of-months trips, it’s starting to take a strain on me.

I want it all, and it’s right there, but Layla refuses to upset her uncle, and I won’t force her. I feel like if I do, it’ll always be something she was never ready for in the first place.

And it doesn’t help that he’s been having some health issues, so I do understand her not wanting to bring it up now. He was just rushed to the hospital last month for high blood pressure after he had a dizzy spell and blurred vision.

The wordsstroke riskwere brought up, and Layla has been slightly terrified ever since, even though she won’t say it. She’s been monitoring his sweet and salt intake, making him take walks around town for exercise and to keep his stress down.

And I’m a stress factor of the highest degree.

“What?” Layla finally asks. “I haven’t said anythin’.”

“It’s going to drive me crazy.”

“That’s why I haven’t said anythin’.”

I look heavenward because I need strength and patience for the time when this girl and I can finally be together and find a white ceiling fan.

I should just turn it on and jump.

“Briggs, we talked about this.”

A sigh flees from my chest, and I nod, still looking at the small, chained string that would turn the fan on. “I know.”

“And you know I love you.”

“Know that, too.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I drop my head, falling back into focus with Layla, who has abandoned her second chicken sandwich and is looking at me with all seriousness.

I believe her, I do.