14. Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Dallas
I t’s the morning of the awards ceremony, and Abby has been running around the apartment like a mad woman. She’s mostly worried about how she’ll look, but I’m not worried about that at all. I know for a fact that she’ll be the most beautiful woman in the room tonight. She’s been on the phone with Meredith all morning, who has decided she’ll come over and help her get ready later. I’m not sure I’ll be much help, and Logan sure as hell wouldn’t be either.
“Abby, we’re heading out for the game. I’ll be back with plenty of time to get ready so please don’t stress about that, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Good luck!” she yells from her room.
Well, I think that’s all I’m going to get out of her today. We leave to meet the bus at the field to bring us to the away team's territory. Logan and I take up residence at the back of the bus and I finally cave and tell him my plan for tonight. I came up with this idea the first night I brought Abby to the pond and now feels like the perfect time to do it.
“You need me to do what?” he asks, looking up from his phone.
“Wine, dude. I need you to pick up a bottle of wine. You, for some reason, know what you’re talking about when it comes to wine, so I’m making that your job.”
“You know this. My mom’s a fanatic with wine. It’s all she talks about at dinners.” We both laugh because I know he’s right. Every time I’ve been over for dinner, the conversation always starts normally, but it’s always quickly derailed by whatever bottle of wine she pulls out for the night. And then dinner turns into a history lesson.
“Red or white?” he asks, sitting up a little straighter. This is why I asked him to do it. I knew he’d take it seriously.
“Fuck if I know.”
“Okay, how about sweet or dry?”
I roll my eyes. “Also don’t know that one.”
“How do you expect me to pick out a bottle of wine if you have no idea what she likes?” He chuckles, already pulling up a list of wines on his phone. “Colors, labels, names, flavors, anything ring a bell?”
I shake my head, mouth hanging open, and shrug. “That’s your job.”
He laughs with a long sigh. “Fuck me, I guess. If she doesn’t like the wine, you make sure to blame yourself. And if she does like the wine, you give me credit. Got it?”
I fake a salute as we pull up to the field. It’s the same field we played at for the last game. This time, nerves run high. We lost the last game. We have to win this one if we want to keep moving forward. Otherwise, today is the end of the line and likely the end of my baseball career.
I lost one of the scouts when I was gone from practices the week Abby was in the hospital. It hurt a little, but I cared more about being with her than about what any recruiter might have to say.
Just as quickly as the game starts, it ends. We won, but just barely. Dante had to step out after the second inning with a sprained wrist. He’d said he twisted it ever so slightly to put a little more spin on the ball and ended up screwing up his wrist instead. Coach was not thrilled with his reasoning. Kevin stepped in for the rest of the game. He’s a good pitcher, but Dante has that extra edge we need right now. At the front of the bus, Dante sits in his seat, icing his wrist, so we can hopefully use him at the next game in two days.
Logan glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “So, are you going to be cordial with your father tonight?”
I haven't given much thought about him being there tonight. Of course, he would. He’s one of the LAO directors. “For Abby’s sake, yes.”
“Maybe for your sake, too?”
I cock my head. “That’s a lot harder than you think it is.” I’ve not thought much about my father lately. My mother, yes, but my father has been sent to the recesses of my mind. I don’t need him occupying precious space that could be used for more important matters like baseball and Abby.
“I’m not saying you have to forgive him but at least try being nice to him. It’ll make you feel a little better whether you believe me or not.”
I chew on that for a bit before changing the subject. “Can you do me one more favor while you’re out getting wine?”
Logan looks across the aisle at me. “Depends on what it is.”
“Could you pick up some actual wine glasses? We don’t have any.”
“What? Solo cups won’t work?” he asks with a laugh. “You are really going all out on this, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve never taken her out on a proper date before, and I feel like I’m long overdue. Plus, she could use a good sabbatical from everything for the night.”
He eyes me strangely. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“Like what?”
“So … antsy. It’s weird. A good weird, but still weird.”
I roll my eyes and settle into the seat, trying to keep myself from overthinking this entire date. When we return home, Meredith and Abby are getting ready in the bathroom. A cloud of hairspray wafts from the open door. I could smell it the second we walked in.
“We have these things called windows you know,” I yell toward the bathroom, faking a cough in the process. Meredith sticks a hand out past the door frame and flips me off before returning to her duties.
When I peek in, Meredith is holding a curling iron to Abby’s black hair while Abby tries applying makeup between curls. Meredith shoos me out before I’ve gotten a good look and tells me to busy myself with something else. The only thing that keeps me busy is the TV until I need to get ready myself. We leave in an hour.
As I hike up my black slacks and button them, the maroon shirt tucks in easily. Abby and Meredith disappeared into Abby’s room—old room? I’m not sure what to call it anymore. We only ever sleep in mine now. She still stores all her things in hers, and I still want her to have that space if she needs it. But bits and pieces of her stuff have slowly migrated into my room. Her nightstand now houses a stack of books, her favorite pair of reading glasses, and a notebook and pen. It seems she’s got notebooks and pens everywhere. She even has a drawer of clothes in here.
One thing I will give my dad credit for tonight is teaching me how to tie a tie. The black tie lies over the matching black vest, and I slip on the black suit jacket over top. I didn’t ask, but if Abby’s wearing black, this should match perfectly. I think she has been so nervous about the event itself that she doesn’t care what I wear at this point.
I lean against the kitchen counter, mindlessly scrolling through my phone while the girls finish getting ready. Logan found something on TV to keep himself busy all night though I think he’s secretly excited to have a night to himself.
When Abby’s door clicks open, I almost drop my phone. I’ve been anticipating seeing her in this dress all day.
Holy fuck.
I move from the kitchen to stand in front of the hall where Abby now stands. The dress looks far better on her than it did on the hanger. Her long hair drapes over her shoulders in soft waves. One side of her bangs has been pinned to the side to give me a perfect view of that beautiful face. Her makeup is heavier than usual, but it only makes her blue eyes stand out even more. I would kiss her right now if those plump lips weren’t painted in dark red lipstick. And then I think, do I really care?
Thick, high-heeled black boots a little more than ankle-high click on the ground when she takes a few steps closer, smiling sheepishly. She looks up at me through those long lashes once she reaches me, and I think I might melt where I stand.
“You look … stunning, Abby.” I’m not sure where the words come from, certainly not from my conscious mind, but I’ve managed to say them somehow.
I’m almost ashamed of where my eyes look. Almost. Her gorgeous face first, the long dip of the fabric down her chest, down the length of her legs that peek out from the two slits on either hip. I’d be more ashamed if Abby weren’t eyeing me the same way—like a piece of meat she’s ready to devour.
Her smile remains as she looks me up and down. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.” She grabs the lapels of my suit, pulls me closer, and gives me almost a whisper of a kiss to not smudge the lipstick. We stare into each other's eyes for a few moments, but it’s cut short.
“You two are adorable,” Meredith says from behind Abby, pulling us both from our trances. “Now turn around for a picture.” She’s already holding her phone up.
Abby turns her head and smiles, likely also rolling her eyes. We both oblige Meredith’s request. She takes more pictures than I’ll be able to sort through in one sitting.
Once she’s had her share, Abby turns back to me and I ask, “Ready?”
“Nope,” she says with an odd cheerfulness before heading for the door, tugging me along with her.
The ceremony is held in a large, grand ballroom in the heart of town. The interior almost looks straight out of a fairytale castle. I didn’t know Oxly had such extravagant places. The foyer is wide open. A small circular table sits in the middle, with a large floral arrangement of white roses, peonies, and some greenery. A large sign stands next to it with a gold-embellished greeting for the event.
Abby and I walk hand in hand, Meredith trailing behind us, through the large, intricately carved wooden double doors. The high-ceilinged ballroom is already bustling with people dressed to the high heavens in suits and elegant dresses. Caterers wander the space with champagne and hors d'oeuvres placed carefully on gold trays. To the right sits a long glass bar top where a line of people stands, mingling amongst themselves.
On the left is a long line of tables with food in stainless steel trays, roasting over open flames. It’s buffet style. Good to know we can eat whenever and whatever we want. In the middle, circular tables scatter the space with white tablecloths. The middle of each table hosts a floral arrangement similar to the one out front. At the far back wall, a wooden stage stands about three feet above the polished wooden floor. A small orchestra plays a soft melody while everyone meanders about.
“I’m going to the bar,” Meredith says as she slips past us.
“Champagne?” a nearby server offers.
“God, yes, please,” Abby says, snatching one off the tray.
I fail to stifle my chuckle. “You’re a little out of your element, aren’t you?”
She sticks her tongue out at me before taking a drink from her flute of bubbling champagne. “I don’t do things like this, okay? I haven’t even been to a wedding since my sister got married six years ago. And that wasn’t even half as fancy as this. Have you?”
“Where do you think I got the suit?”
“I was afraid to ask in case you’d bought it just for this occasion.”
“I didn’t, but I would have.” I laugh a little when she gives me a coy smile. “I’ve been to my fair share of fancy events with my parents being so high up in the different systems they’re a part of.”
“Well, then give me some pointers because where I’m at right now, I think I might crawl into a hole.”
I take her arm and wrap it around mine. “All you have to do is keep looking pretty and sip that glass. Everything else will come easy. This is for you, you know. All these people, they’re here for you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Not just me.”
“No, but it’s still partially for you. Enjoy it.”
“I hate the spotlight. You know that.”
“I do. And you know what else I know? That you’ll survive tonight, no matter what happens.”
She takes a deep breath and squeezes my arm tighter. “Okay.”
We make our way toward the bar for me to grab some water, and just as I turn around with my glass, my father’s face blocks my vision. Be nice, I try to remind myself.
“Abby. Dal. It’s good to see you.” He smiles and starts to hold his arms out like he’s coming in for a hug but second-guesses himself and pulls them back. “I’m glad you could make it.”
Abby squeezes my arm, a knowing sign of support, and maybe a bit of a plea to put on a happy face for the night. “Of course. I haven’t gotten to thank you yet. I am really grateful for what you did.”
“I’m honored to have you here. You are an amazing writer, Abby. You deserve every bit of praise you get for your work.”
Abby smiles and nods, almost a bow. Just as the awkward silence starts, Meredith comes back to us.
“Hi,” she beams. She extends a hand toward my father. “I’m Meredith, Abby’s best friend.”
He shakes it gently and responds, “It’s nice to meet you, Meredith. I’m Dr. Kraus.”
“So, you’re the one responsible for kicking this girl in the butt and getting her to actually do something with her writing. Genius. This man is a genius.” She points toward him with the drink in her hand and it almost sloshes over the rim.
He smiles politely. “Hardly. I’m just the support. Abby is the one with all the talent.”
I look at Abby and can tell she’s getting overwhelmed. All this praise is too much for her all at once. “Okay. I think we should find some food before the festivities start.”
“Of course. I’ll talk to you guys later,” my father says before holding his glass up in acknowledgment.
Once we’re far enough away, Abby leans up and kisses my cheek. “Thank you,” she says.
We find an open table to sit and eat our meals of chicken breast, potatoes, and veggies. Meredith joins us, sitting to the right of Abby. We’re about halfway through our food, making light conversation about everything besides the night's events—Abby’s request—when Rose joins us.
“Hey!” She hugs Abby and me before pausing at Meredith with an outstretched hand. “Hi, I’m Rose, Dallas’s sister.”
Meredith quickly finishes chewing the food in her mouth to greet Rose. “Nice to meet you. I’m Meredith, Abby’s best friend.” They shake hands, but both their eyes and grasped hands linger a little longer than normal. Rose turns away a little flustered and sits down to my left.
Abby eyes me with a smirk so small that most people wouldn’t catch it. But I saw that look. And I know exactly what just happened. The short exchange between Meredith and Rose is likely the same way I felt when I finally got to really talk to Abby that night in the bathroom at the party. My heart could have leaped out of my chest at that moment. I was trying so hard to play it cool.
Abby and I quickly finish our food and make up some bogus excuse as to why we need to leave them at the table. I think they’re too deep into whatever conversation they’re already having to notice we left.
“So, that’s a thing,” Abby says, that smirk still playing on her lips.
“You know? I’m not at all surprised.” We glance back at the table, and they’ve already moved next to each other, both looking as consumed in each other as ever.
Another hour passes. Abby keeps mostly quiet, only speaking when she’s spoken to. I didn’t expect anything more. A few of my father’s colleagues recognize me and that keeps us busy, talking about how I’ve been and what I plan to do with myself after college. As I’m in the middle of explaining my future position at the hospital, the orchestra slows their music until they come to a stop, and someone taps on the microphone on stage. Five people stand in a line. My father is one of them, standing at the end. A woman clears her throat before speaking. Everyone turns toward the stage, immediately falling silent.
“Good evening. I’m Dr. Stephanie Jones, head chairperson of the LAO. Thank you all for joining the Literary Ambassador Organization for tonight's award ceremony. We are glad so many of you could make it. If you could please find your seats so we can begin.” She pauses as everyone shuffles back to their respective tables. Dallas and I return to ours where Meredith and Rose have barely stopped talking through her announcement. Once most people have sat down, only a small line remaining at the bar, she starts again. “Thank you. Now, before we get to the awards, each of us would like to introduce you to the finalist and their submitted work. Then we will get to the awards, and finally, the top three placements will read a segment of their work, anything they choose.” She smiles, looking around the room at the heads turned toward her.
Abby’s head whips around to mine with horror in her eyes, and in a frantic whisper, she says, “Read? I might have to read my stuff? I can’t do that in front of all these people.”