Chapter 4 Selene
FOUR
SELENE
The Star Harbor public softball field was attached to our local park, so the moment my sister Elodie opened her big fat mouth in front of Winnie, asking if we wanted to watch the softball game, I knew I was trapped.
Winnie’s delighted shriek disappeared as she pounded up the stairs.
“Don’t forget bike shorts!” I called up after her. I turned to my sister. “Winnie is in a dress phase.”
Through the thin walls of the duplex, I could hear the muffled droning of a television. When it flicked off, my eyes shifted back to my sister.
“How’s it going with the new neighbor?” she asked.
I tamped down the cartwheel of emotions that fluttered low in my belly with a shrug. “It’s fine. I don’t ever see him.”
In fact, it was easy to not see someone you were actively avoiding.
Sometimes I could hear his deep, throaty laugh through the wall. It rattled through my spine like a threat.
Or a promise.
Austin’s heavy footfalls thudded around his side of the duplex, and Elodie made a face. “Sheesh.” She grimaced. “I know you said the walls were thin when the Jeffersons were having wild sex, but I just assumed you were being a prude.”
I shot my sister a playful snarl. The previous tenants had moved out a few months ago, and, to be honest, it had been a relief. I found it depressing that two geriatrics in their late seventies had a far more exciting and active sex life than I did.
I didn’t mean to, but over the last few days I would catch myself going still, listening to hear any movement from Austin’s side of the home.
Winnie’s tiny feet thundered down the stairs, and I caught her at the bottom with a hug. “Walking feet, please.” I set her on her toes. “Don’t forget we have a neighbor again.”
“Sorry, Mama,” Winnie said.
“Meet you there?” I asked my sister, who nodded. I hoisted my purse over my shoulder. “All right, let’s go, kid.”
I let my annoyingly attractive new neighbor slip from my mind as Winnie filled the car with conversation now that my workday had been shortened by the lack of before- and after-school care.
My brain was filled to capacity juggling being a single mom and full-time business owner.
“Mom.” She groaned my name like a full-blown teenager. “Did you hear me?”
My eyes flicked to hers in the rearview mirror. “What, sweetie?”
Winnie huffed and rolled her eyes. “Nothing.”
I fought back tears. I didn’t want her to remember me like this—stretched thin and half listening.
I hated that my stress seemed near constant at this point, and poor Winnie was catching the brunt of my distraction.
I swallowed back tears as my grip tightened on the wheel.
“I’m sorry, bug. I’ve just got a lot on my mind lately.
” I hoped she could understand and hear the sincerity in my voice. “I’m trying my best, I promise.”
Winnie kicked her feet and stared out the window without a response.
The Remington County Men’s Softball League played every Wednesday night. Not all the games were in Star Harbor, but we tried to attend the ones that were.
As I put my car in park, Winnie didn’t wait before she was unharnessing herself and flying out of the vehicle, running as fast as her little legs could carry her.
“Just be careful!” I called. Up ahead, my sister Kit shouted, “I got her! And if I have to, we’ll trade her for a funnel cake.” Kit tickled Winnie as they hugged.
I raised my hand in thanks. After grabbing a blanket from the back and a small cooler filled with snacks, I made my way toward the field.
The men’s twelve-inch softball league games could be pretty fun. Sure, our guys were the second-oldest team in the league, but it was humorous, if nothing else.
A portable speaker was blaring a mix of early country and nineties R&B. The rusted stands were nearly full, and lawn chairs in uneven rows lined the foul lines. Off to the side, a group of small children were setting up a lemonade stand.
I scanned the crowd and smiled when I saw Winnie perched high above my brother Hayes’s shoulders and Elodie waving me over to a spot she had saved. I squeezed in next to my sister Kit.
“Thanks for saving us a spot.” With a sigh, I unloaded all our belongings.
I looked at my oldest brother, squinting in the late-afternoon sun. “Are you playing tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he grunted as he hoisted Winnie off his shoulders, settling her feet onto the ground.
I examined his too-tight T-shirt. “What are you wearing?”
Hayes’s nostrils flared as if he was as thin on patience as I was. “Getting out of my truck, I snagged it. Tore a hole the size of my face. It was unbelievable. I had to borrow a spare shirt and all they had left was a small.”
Hayes stretched his arms in front of his chest. The sleeves nearly tore, and it was so short, you could see a small strip of his abdomen. It was cut high enough to qualify as a crop top and tight enough to pass for a second skin. The shirt looked like it was almost small enough to fit Winnie.
I bit down a laugh. “Ah,” I said with a knowing nod.
Poor Hayes seemed to have almost comically rotten luck. Ever since the end of his senior year of high school, he had been plagued by it. That meant, in our small town, rumors swirled about him being cursed by the Lady of the Dunes.
Of course, none of us believed it, but sometimes it was hard to ignore that our moody, forlorn older brother had absolute shit luck.
The team started to take the field and Kit clapped. “Well, get out there, big dog. Woof, woof,” she barked.
He groaned and rolled his eyes, but he also cracked a rare smile.
“There he is!” Winnie pointed, drawing our attention to the field. “There’s Cal.”
I swear, my little girl, side by side with her aunt, sighed wistfully as Elodie’s boyfriend jogged onto the field. Ever since he’d put himself in the path of a rogue foul ball and saved Winnie, he was a hero in her eyes.
I looked at my younger sister, and a tightness twisted in my chest. She had come to life over the last few months—thriving and happy.
“Ooh, girls, looks like we got some fresh meat on the team in front of us.” Three older women I recognized as fellow Keepers peered into their own sets of binoculars.
I followed their line of sight, my eyes landing across the broad shoulders of none other than Austin.
“Oh, that’s so fun,” Elodie said, turning to Kit. “Did Brody convince him to fill in for Wes?”
My youngest sister’s face twisted. “How the hell should I know? Brody is Hayes’s friend, not mine.”
A disbelieving rattle formed in my throat before I could stop it, which earned me a slicing glare from Kit. Brody and Hayes had been best friends since elementary school, and Kit had been teased for many years about the summer she followed them around with stars in her eyes, mooning over him.
The crush lasted only a summer, and once Tommy Fitzsimmons moved to town, her crush on Brody had all but evaporated. But every once in a while I wondered whether there was still a tiny bit of that ten-year-old Kit lingering at the edges, hoping for her brother’s best friend to notice her.
To me Brody would always be the protective older-brother type, but his brother was a different story entirely.
I knew Austin was twenty-eight. Old enough to be considered a man, but far too young for a delusional thirty-six-year-old single mom to fantasize about.
Austin was in the shortstop position, and as they warmed up, a ground ball quickly rolled his way.
He was impossibly fast, scooping up the ball and effortlessly throwing it to Cal at first base.
The sharp whack of the ball hitting Cal’s glove made me jump.
Cal pulled his hand from the glove, shaking it out. With a grin, Cal pointed at Austin. “Hell yeah, let’s go.”
“Maybe with Austin on the team, we’ll actually win a game,” Kit mumbled, hiding her giggle.
The team could use a win, especially after all the worrying about Wes.
I leaned forward to speak to Elodie. “Wes is home now, right? We haven’t really seen him around or anything.” My voice trailed off. Wes was healing, as was expected after such a traumatic injury.
Elodie nodded, sadness washing over her features. “He’s home. Cal visits him a lot and says that physically he’s healing really well. Mentally it’s been”—she paused, chewing the inside of her lip—“kind of tough.”
My heart ached for poor Wes. He had grown up in Star Harbor and had always been such a fun-loving guy. Winnie was dangling from the back of the bleachers, using them as a makeshift jungle gym. I reached into our cooler to grab a sparkling water and hopefully ease my parched throat.
Watching Austin bend in half to touch his toes and stretch certainly wasn’t helping things.
“Has anyone heard from Clara?” I asked my sisters, desperate for a change of topic.
Clara, our middle sister, hadn’t been back to Star Harbor in nearly a year. Her fiancé’s thriving tech company did more than enough to keep her social calendar completely booked. Oftentimes I would reach out without hearing much back other than that things were fine.
Maybe it was my big-sister intuition, but something just felt off.
“She didn’t come home once this summer,” Kit accused. “It’s like she thinks she’s too good for this family.”
I shrugged. “Maybe she just has a lot going on. I know Greg and his calendar keep them very busy.”
“Greg and his calendar.” Kit snorted a disgusted sound. “What a douche canoe.”
Elodie and I glanced at one another and hid a laugh.
Winnie’s head popped up from behind the bleachers. “What’s a douche?”
Collectively we dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Come on, baby.” I reached over and helped to haul Winnie back on top of the bleachers. “Let’s focus on the game. It’s about to start.”
I tried not to stare, but goddamn. After effortlessly launching a ball over the outfield wall, Austin rounded home and jogged toward the dugout, grinning, sweat damp. He was completely unaware of how infuriatingly hot he looked.