Waiting
Everything changed after the spring showcase, though they never discussed it.
Abby knew it from the way they studied side by side, occasionally brushing shoulders or thighs.
She knew it in the way she held her breath until Kate withdrew, then spent the remainder of their time in the library desperate for her to return.
Desperate for Kate to gently tap her on the back and pull her attention away from their books.
She knew it on the field too when they weren’t just together, but moved as one. When they turned two, with Kate at shortstop and Abby at second base. When Kate hit first, and Abby knocked her in for a run. An extension of the other.
That’s why Abby awkwardly waited for Bible study to end.
If she was honest though, she didn’t exactly mind it.
Not when Kate came through those church doors.
She’d flash Abby a smile, sometimes a brief wave when she saw her and something about it felt like faith.
That if she waited long enough, Kate would appear, and the rest would fall into place.
Of course, she wondered if Kate noticed the skeptical glances as she left her church group behind to join her.
She made quite the Jezebel for the faithful, puffing cigarettes with her shades on, the hood of her sweatshirt raised in the sun.
But if they ever said anything to Kate, or she caught wind of the disdain that Abby recognized from the distance, she never mentioned it.
Just as she never forced Abby into the pews.
Blake Davis was a different story.
“What am I going to have to do to get you to join us?” He always pleaded with a grin, like it might be the day that David beat Goliath.
Like if anyone could convert her, it would be him.
He seemed to be the king of New Hope Baptist and Collegiate Athletes for Christ, always with a small entourage in tow.
And again, if Kate noticed, or if it bothered her, she never showed it.
She trailed at a distance, chatting with a friend on her way to Abby.
“Maybe an exorcism.” She blew smoke over her shoulder, though she considered fumigating him with it. “Oh, wait, that’s the Catholics, right?”
He feigned a chuckle. “I really think you might like it.”
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
“Right, well, maybe next time.”
The little flock of followers behind him whispered among themselves and glared. Kate dawdled down the church steps, but when she spotted them together, her pace quickened.
“You know, I was hoping you could help me with something.” Blake fished a baseball card out of his pocket. “Audie was one of my favorite players growing up. I can’t imagine him being my dad.”
Abby gritted her teeth. “Yeah. Me neither.”
Blake just kept smiling. “Do you think you could have him sign it?”
“Blake, don’t.” Kate slid between them, eyes widening at the baseball card, then at Abby.
“Why?”
“No, it’s fine.” Abby took the card. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.” Blake clapped her shoulder, and she barely withheld a growl. “If he ever comes to a game, I’d love to meet him.”
“Sure, but he’s really busy. I doubt if he’ll make any this season.”
“We should get to the library,” Kate said.
They scrambled to leave, but not before Blake pecked Kate’s lips goodbye. Abby rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses and squashed her cigarette into the pavement, grounding her shoe into it far longer than necessary.
“Sorry about that,” Kate said, as they walked to campus.
“Don’t worry about it.” Abby adjusted the backpack on her shoulder. “How’s he supposed to know about Audie?”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
She bit her lip and considered not answering. Kate would have let her get away with it too. Let her light another cigarette and stew. Which is probably why she told her anyway. Why she always ended up telling her.
“I was eleven. He showed up at one of my softball tournaments. Cheering louder than everyone.” Abby kicked a rock down the sidewalk.
“He and my mom got into a screaming match in the bleachers. I wanted him to see me play, but not with how upset it made her.” She shoved her hands in her pockets.
“He was around sporadically before that, but I never really knew him. And the blowups my parents would have…that was far worse than missing him.”
“What about now?”
“He called after Mom, but I didn’t answer. It’s been ten years. I don’t need him.”
They strolled in easy silence. The one that belonged just to them.
“You never try to make me go in,” Abby said after a beat.
“You don’t want to.”
Abby stared at the pavement, searching for another rock to kick. “You don’t think I need saving?”
“Do you?” Kate asked.
She shrugged. “I think it’s a work in progress.”
“It usually is.” Kate smiled before handing her a stack of laminated note cards. “Quiz me?”
Abby smiled in return, but a smidge of shyness held it back, like if she grinned too big, Kate might detect how much she adored her. “You know, at this rate maybe I should take the LSAT too.”
“You should,” Kate said, and Abby knew by her cheerful lilt that she meant it.
“How’d you know you wanted to be a lawyer?” she asked as they crossed the quad.
“I guess I’ve always been passionate about fairness.
That we all deserve an equal shot.” Kate’s gaze shined brighter at the topic.
Just like when she played shortstop. Like her entire heart lived in it.
“When I was little, I never understood why my brothers got to play on my dad’s field and I couldn’t. ”
Abby nodded. “That’s right. He coaches baseball?”
“Yep. Two decades now. He calls it God’s game.”
“Oh, how American of him. I always imagined God would be more of a soccer fan though. More global appeal.”
Kate released a peeved, stifled laugh that Abby knew meant she didn’t want to admit she found it funny. She shoved her ever so slightly, and Abby chuckled before nudging her back. And for a few perfect, heart-stopping seconds, Kate left herself leaning against her shoulder.
“I think it pushed me into playing harder,” she said gently. “Holding on to the game tighter. And now, making sure no one is left out. At least that’s what I hope to do.”
Their gazes met as their steps slowed. Abby hated that Kate drew back. Hated that she stopped talking. Hated that they’d reached the library steps.
“You’ll make a great lawyer,” she said.
“Thanks.” Kate bit down a smile and cleared her throat. “Now, quiz me already.”
She lingered as Kate climbed the steps, chattering without realizing Abby wasn’t following behind her. While they were together, Abby realized she was still waiting. For what, she couldn’t say for sure, except maybe more.
The windsurfers and boats in the river bobbed like distant bathtub toys from the condo’s perch on the ridge.
Kate didn’t know how much money professors made, but Isla’s curated home suggested a certain air of wealth.
Everything about her did, even with her bare feet and oversize button-down billowing in the breeze as they ate dinner on the deck.
It made Kate even more self-conscious to join the professor off campus, but when Abby invited her, she didn’t dare say no.
Lately, Kate would’ve blindly agreed to just about anything for another minute with her.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done. Ever since Abby started spending time with you, she’s been getting better. Lighter even,” Isla said when Abby left the table.
“She does seem better.” Kate glanced at her untouched wine. “But I don’t think it’s because of me.”
Isla angled her chin to the side. “Seriously? Give yourself credit. You’re really special to her.”
“She’s special to me too.” Kate considered her wine and wondered if it might settle the jitters she hadn’t shaken since Abby picked her up.
She’d gotten used to enduring the giddiness in the brief moments they touched, in a gaze held too long, in the anticipation of their next meeting, but never had it consumed her so fully that she struggled to touch her dinner.
“You’re not talking shit about me, are you?” Abby plopped back into the seat next to her.
“No.” Isla winked at Kate. “I was just telling her I know a great civil rights attorney she should intern with in the fall.”
Kate shook her head. “No. I wouldn’t want to impose, and you’ve already done too much,” she said. Isla insisted on writing Kate a letter of recommendation for law school and connected her with her vast network of attorneys and professors to help beef up her applications.
“It’s not imposing. Luca would be lucky to have you.”
“See, babysitting me might pay off.” Abby sipped her wine.
Kate frowned. “Don’t say that.”
She spent so much of dinner trying not to look at her too long that when she allowed herself a glimpse, it surprised her all over again.
Abby’s inky hair, long and wavy, her tan skin visible beneath a tank top, shorts, and tired leather sandals.
A stark contrast to the Abby on the field or in the classroom.
A starker contrast to winter Abby, who trudged through the cold in layers of faded hoodies, well-worn flannels, and tattered jeans, never without a beanie.
This Abby, sun-kissed and languid as if she belonged on the beach, was so natural it was as if Kate witnessed her return to herself with the change of seasons.
And perhaps that’s what made it more beautiful—that she’d seen her through the winter.
Just like when she smiled or laughed, it struck deeper knowing that she’d once seen her broken.
Never on trend or fashionable, Kate had tried on a dozen outfits before dinner, finally settling on white jeans and a chambray shirt.
Upon picking her up, Abby beamed and told her she looked pretty.
Kate could barely mutter thank you. Just as she barely picked up on the conversation about her possible internship with her focus fully absorbed by Abby’s lips.
“So, this attorney doesn’t happen to be the one you moved here for, is it?”