31. Marnie
I do not feel comfortable being here.
Sure, I changed my clothes. I might have had Dusty in mind when I picked out the super short black shorts and tank top.
And yes, I might have put a little extra effort into my hair.
But that was for Dusty. I want to see him.
I want him to like what he sees.
But I don’t have any interest in mingling with his friends.
What’s the point? I’m not sticking around.
I wouldn’t have even known about his beer league if Sienna hadn’t begged me to drive her. I was confused about why Sienna would want to watch her older brother play baseball until I saw who was rounding the bases.
We pull up just in time to watch Trinity get tagged out by one of Dusty’s friends. Sienna’s unbuckling her seatbelt before I can even throw the car in park. “Thanks for the ride, Marnie.”
And then she’s gone, scampering off to join her friends. Leaving me alone in a surprisingly robust crowd of strangers.
I slowly climb out of my car, wondering how starved for entertainment these small-town people must be if they’ll gather like this for a casual ball game.
I’ve never really seen one like this. Dad and I used to go to the Salt Dog games back before he got sick. I loved the booming music, the popcorn. The ridiculous mascot.
This is different. No uniforms. No announcer. Just a bunch of farm boys, like overgrown kids, playing a sport they love.
Dusty and Sienna are literally the only people I recognize, and they are very much out of reach. I look over my shoulder, staring at the street, wondering if it’s too late to turn around.
“You’re Marnie Novak, right?”
I turn back to see a pair of curvy girls grinning at me. One’s a redhead, the other’s a blonde, but they wear matching smiles. There’s a distinctly mischievous look on their faces that makes me instantly wary.
“Marnie Black. My mom was a Novak, though.”
“I’m Andy.”
The blonde walks forward, offering me her hand. “That’s Erin. She’s married to Josh.”
“Nice to meet you.”
I say, wondering who in the hell Josh is.
Erin is wearing a vintage polka-dotted dress. Andy has on a flowy skirt and a high-necked tank top. I’m feeling slightly underdressed, but this is a baseball game. I figured everyone would be in cut-offs and t-shirts.
Erin laughs. “Not everyone in the state of Nebraska knows who Josh is, Andy.”
Andy grins. “Right.”
“Oh, wait.”
I tilt my head. “Andy… Are you the bird lady?”
Erin hoots with laughter. “I guess you’re the famous one.”
Andy wraps her hand around my arm and leads me towards the bleachers. “You pegged me. I work for the Songbird Foundation.”
She gestures for me to sit on a peeling wooden bench. She points out a tall beast of a man with a short beard. “That’s my boyfriend, Bo. He’s best buds with Dusty. And so is Josh, Erin’s husband.” She points out the dark-eyed heartbreaker waiting on first base. “And then there’s Skyler. We haven’t found him a woman yet. He’s the last man standing.”
Jealousy slices through me. “Dusty has a girlfriend?”
Erin sits beside me. “You two aren’t…?”
“No.”
l put my hands up, like I’m warding the idea off. “We’re not really… I mean, not like that…”
Andy and Erin exchange knowing looks.
“Must have gotten our wires crossed.”
Andy settles next to me, handing me a beer from a cooler at her feet. “I heard about you from Bo. I sent him over to Dusty’s to snoop.”
I’m a little overwhelmed by Andy’s instant familiarity with me. But there’s a frank openness to her that I find appealing. “And what did Bo find out?”
“Very little. He failed at his job.”
Erin shakes her head. “Never send a man to do a woman’s job.”
Andy glances at me. “You’re from Lincoln?”
I nod.
Erin peers at me. “What part?”
“Near south.”
She lights up, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. “Get out of here. I lived in Near South before I moved to Silver Bend. Andy did, too.”
“She owned Mimi’s.”
Andy says.
My heart twists in my chest at the casual drop of that name. I’ve been able to shelter that hurt in my chest, because most of the people out this way didn’t know about it. Didn’t know what I lost.
“Shut. Up.”
Erin says. “I love that place. Your gluten-free donuts are out of this world.”
Andy winces, glancing at me.
“It burned down.” I blurt.
Erin stops short. “No.”
“Yeah. Afraid so. But I’ve already got a job out here. I’m doing the cakes for RayAnne Elliot’s wedding.”
“I’m going to that wedding.”
Andy says. “RayAnne used to babysit me.”
“Small towns, am I right?”
Erin asks, rolling her eyes. “Andy grew up here. I’m a transplant, though.”
Andy nudges me. “Oh. Here you go, Marnie. Dusty’s up to bat.”
I see it’s going to take some work to disabuse this woman of the idea that Dusty and I are an item. I glance over just as Dusty looks our way. Our gazes connect and I feel a zing of heat travel straight down to my center.
Judas. Is it fair for any one human being to be that beautiful?
He sets his beer down, ambling casually over to home plate.
Bo passes him a bat, clearing out of the way.
“He’s going to bunt,”
Andy mutters, leaning forward on her knees.
“How do you know?”
Erin asks.
“It’s what he always does.”
Andy laughs. “Look, Ben’s team is moving in.”
Dusty taps the bat against the plate twice, pausing to point straight out into the dark night sky. Just like Babe Ruth.
There’s a chorus of catcalls and heckles.
The pitcher winds up, throwing a blinding pitch out of odds with the casual feel of a beer league. Dusty has to lean back as the ball blazes past him, nearly hitting him.
He backs up, shoulders loosening, and stares the pitcher down. It’s a strangely tense moment, but then he laughs, shaking his head as he walks back up to the plate.
The pitcher winds up again, this time throwing a mean curve ball. Dusty swings with easy grace, ball connecting with the bat in an earsplitting crack.
That sound, that demonstration of pure athleticism, travels right down my spine. We all watch, transfixed, as the ball sails through the night air, disappearing into the neighboring field.
Trotting the bases like a cocky conqueror, Dusty finally rounds the bases to home plate.
His smile is wide, careless.
But when his gaze lands on me, it’s all fire and hunger.