Thirteen Geny
I can’t stop looking at the parking lot for Grace’s or Frank’s cars. I’d give anything to listen in on the conversation they’re having. Is she telling him things she hasn’t told me? Is he even asking the right questions?
“Hey,” Wyatt says. He puts his hand on my bouncing knee. “She’s fine. It’s just standard protocol.”
“Then why did you ask if she needed a lawyer?”
Wyatt sighs. “I don’t know. That was dumb. Of course she doesn’t need a lawyer. She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Is faking your death not wrong?”
“Is that what she did?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. You were the one out in the water with her that night.”
His hand slides off my knee. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Grace’s car pulls into the parking lot, and I stand up, ignoring his question. I step around him and off the bleachers. Carter sits in the dugout, waiting for the game to start. I give him a thumbs-up through the chain-link fence as I pass, and he returns it with a grin that melts my heart.
Jack stands beside him. It’s his first year assistant coaching. It’s Wyatt’s first year not coaching. He’s been working a lot of overtime hours since my hours have been cut.
I walk toward Grace, but my mind is on the little family I’ve created here in Raven. The family I know I wouldn’t have if Grace never died. Or disappeared. Whatever it is she did. None of this would be mine if she never left.
It’s a gut punch, but something I’ve always known. It’s the basis for the constant tug-of-war between my emotions. Grief and guilt. Is everything I have in jeopardy now that she’s back? I hate myself for the thought, but it’s there nonetheless.
I taste stomach acid and swallow it back. I wave at Grace as she heads toward me.
“Hey,” I say when she’s close enough to hear me. “Is everything okay? What happened?”
“Everything’s fine.” She smiles and walks past me.
I turn and catch up with her. “That’s all I get?”
“What more do you want?” She laughs, barely looking at me.
I open my mouth, then shut it. I don’t know why I try. She isn’t going to tell me anything. She’s already made up her mind to keep me in the dark, and there’s no changing Grace’s mind.
“It’s so weird to be here again,” she says.
Bile burns my throat. How much time had Grace spent here growing up? She never missed one of Wyatt’s games back when he played town ball. And the only time she missed his high school games was when her cross-country schedule interfered.
Now she’s here to watch his son play. My son.
But if Grace finds it uncomfortable at all, she doesn’t show it. She walks as if this were any ordinary family occasion, stopping at the fence behind Carter and crouching down.
“Hey, bud,” she says. “Are you ready to play?”
Carter nods excitedly. “Yes!”
“You gonna hit a home run?”
He laughs. “I can’t hit that far!”
She looks at him like he’s crazy. “Not with that attitude. I want to see a home run. You’re going to hit one for me, right?”
He’s smirking but looks at her unsure.
“Righhhht?” she goads.
He nods.
“You have to have more confidence than that.” She laughs.
“Yes!” he shouts.
“Who’s gonna hit a home run?”
“Me!”
“That’s right!”
She presses her palm against the fence, and Carter gives her a high five. She smiles and waves goodbye before turning and climbing up the bleachers toward Wyatt. I follow behind her.
I’m not sure how it is that I feel like the odd one out in my own family, but I do. And I don’t know if it’s my own insecurities playing with my mind or if Grace is actually stepping into my place the same day she’s come back.
Grace sits with a space between her and Wyatt, leaving a spot for me between them. I take it and try my best to push the negative thoughts out of my head.
Wyatt married me.
Carter and Jack are my kids and they love me.
Grace is my sister and she loves me.
I repeat the mantra as Grace leans over me to ask questions about Carter and Jack. Does Jack play baseball? What position? What position does Carter like to play?
Normal questions. Just an aunt trying to get to know her nephews. Just my sister trying to make conversation.
“I’m going to get some snacks and use the restroom before they start,” she says. “Be right back.”
I watch her saunter toward the concession stand and disappear around the corner to where the bathrooms are.
Frank’s truck pulls into the lot in the distance.
He’s back in his normal attire. Tina, his wife, isn’t with him today.
She only comes to a few games a year. She was the same way with Wyatt’s games, so it doesn’t bother me. But Frank makes almost all of them.
He stops at the concession stand, and I turn my attention back to the field.
Things feel uncomfortable between Wyatt and me, and I can blame only myself for that.
Springing Grace staying with us on him the way I did.
Then bringing up the night at the lake. It was dumb to bring up that night. Now it’s on both our minds.
I reach over and slide my hand into his. He takes it, but he doesn’t look at me or say anything. Things have been rough between us for some time now. We stopped trying to fix it and just learned to live with it. I thought that was good enough, but it isn’t anymore. Not with Grace back.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He squeezes my hand. “It’s okay.”
I scoot a little closer to him and hope I’m not being cringey. Am I trying too hard? Am I making it obvious that I’m insecure?
I glance back at the concession stand and see that Grace is there talking to Frank. She’s handed a bunch of things and hands off a few to Frank before they both make their way over.
“I got you Twizzlers, Gen,” she says. She hands me the red package of my favorite candy. “Popcorn for you.” She hands Wyatt a bag of popcorn, grease marks on the side. It’s his favorite.
“Thanks,” he says.
“Sure.”
She sits, reaching out for the pretzel and big cup of what I know will be a blue slushy.
“Pretzel and slushy for me.”
Frank sits on the bleacher seat below us, closest to Wyatt. The game starts, and we all watch and cheer for each kid. Grace gets louder when it’s Carter’s turn to bat.
“Home run!” she shouts as he steps up to the plate.
He grins and waves at her. Jack tosses the ball to him, and he swings as hard as he can, missing the ball and spinning himself in a circle.
“That’s okay, Carter! Try again!” Grace shouts.
Jack helps him get back into his batter stance and tells him to keep his feet planted before heading back to his pitching spot. The kids get a few chances to try to hit a pitch before getting the tee. Carter is about fifty–fifty on hitting pitches.
This time, when Jack tosses the ball, Carter swings hard, but keeps his feet planted. The bat smacks the ball with a satisfying crack. It isn’t a home run, but it rolls to the fence, which is basically the same thing. We all cheer loudly as he runs the bases, looking as proud as he’s ever been.
As we settle back into our seats, a woman walks over and looks at Grace hesitantly.
“Hi,” she says, and Grace looks up at her.
The woman glances over at Frank and then back to Grace.
“My name’s Brooke. Do you have a second? Can I talk to you? In private?”
I’m about to interrupt and ask that she please leave us alone, but Grace stands up before I can.
“Sure,” she says.
They walk away, and I try not to squirm in my seat.
“Why does Brooke O’Neil want to talk to Grace?” Wyatt asks.
“Grace was friends with her sister a long time ago,” I say, staring straight ahead at the field.
“Oh yeah. Wow. I forgot all about that. Grace was a mess when Morgan died. Still don’t know why Brooke would want to talk to her now,” he says.
Neither do I.