Present Day
“Abby?”
She stared ahead, shoulders clenching at the voice behind her.
One she hadn’t heard in two years. She knew a reunion was possible when she agreed to scout at Insley.
That she might very well come across another name on the list of people she owed an apology to.
Abby clutched the plastic chip in her pocket as the reckoning drew closer, footsteps thumping above the cheers for the batter who knocked a ball into right field.
“Cruz, you are one unbelievable fucking asshole!”
Abby peered up at the woman in an Insley Softball windbreaker blocking her view.
“Hey, Mick.”
She waited with her teeth clenched, braced for everything from more yelling to fists.
In two years, she’d picked up the phone more than once to apologize for the awful things she said before hitting rock bottom.
But then she never knew where to start, thought a face-to-face would be better, then would put it off until the next time guilt woke her in the middle of the night.
Until two years flew by and she ended up here.
Mick surveyed her with arms crossed, as if the game and fans around them meant nothing. Then after a long sigh, she snatched Abby’s hand and yanked her up.
“What are you doing? Come here.”
Abby startled, then relaxed as Mick smacked her into a hug. A lump filled her throat. She squeezed her back, wishing it could make up for everything she’d ruined. When they released, Abby sniffled, thankful for the shield of her sunglasses.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were here,” Mick said.
“I know. I came for work and—” Abby paused as her lips drooped. “And I didn’t know if you’d want to see me.”
“Of course I want to see you.” Mick punched her shoulder. “You really are still an idiot, aren’t you?”
“Some things never change.” Abby forced a smirk even if it didn’t fix the rest.
They sat down as the bottom of the inning started, squeezing next to Tanner, who grinned and scooted down.
“This is Tanner, another scout,” Abby said. “Tanner, this is Mick. She’s the head softball coach here.”
“Nice to meet you,” Tanner said. “Did you play with Abby?”
“Oh yeah, we go way back. Did she tell you she’s the greatest ballplayer in Insley history?”
“She failed to mention that.”
“Because it’s not true.” Abby scoffed, embarrassed but heartened. She didn’t know how Mick still had a kind word to say about her.
“You guys here for Kayson?” Mick asked.
“Yep.”
“He’s a good kid.” She raised a mischievous brow at Abby. “He plays like Hutch, don’t you think?”
Abby swallowed. Of course, he played like her. That was the whole reason she was there. Why she never stopped chasing the game. I miss you so much that I search for you in others.
“Never noticed.” She shrugged.
Tanner left after the next inning and Abby wished he’d stay as a buffer. It left her to do the heavy lifting.
“So, we going to talk about it?” Mick asked.
Abby wrung her hands, keeping her gaze on Kayson. It was enough silence for Mick to unleash her wrath.
“I mean, I know you do this. You disappear, and it was bad enough when you did it to her, but I’ve always stuck by you.
What you said, cutting me out for two years?
It hurt. I beat myself up at first, but now you come back, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me you were here? Are we really not friends anymore?”
“Hey, I know, I know. I’m sorry.” She stopped Mick’s flailing hands. “I’m really sorry.”
Mick’s face wilted. Her voice fell beneath the game. “What happened, Abby?”
The crowd cheered as the Eagles smacked in a few more runs. She drew in a ragged breath. “You think we could get out of here?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” Mick punched her shoulder and Abby hissed, never so grateful for the tender spot it left on her biceps.
“This is seriously still your spot of choice?” Abby asked as they stood outside Sunny’s. The bar hadn’t changed in almost a decade. She swore the same beer residue coated the floorboards.
“I thought we could, for old times’ sake.” Mick shook her shoulders. “Plus, I wanted to show you something.”
Tacked up on the wall, among the other immortalized Insley greats, was a photo of their senior fivesome. They sat on the bar in their letterman’s jackets, Mick kissing a trophy in the center, Abby’s arm draped over Kate’s shoulder, Jill and T.K. raising drinks on Mick’s other side.
“I think that was the last time we were all here together,” Mick said.
Abby nodded, caught between a smile and a frown. “We’d won the regional title. Left for nationals a few days later.”
“The four of us came back for graduation, but it wasn’t the same without you.”
Abby gritted her teeth and pivoted to the patio. “Let’s sit outside.”
“Sorry,” Mick said as they plopped to a splintered picnic table. Abby took the spot across from her and stretched her legs across the bench. “I didn’t mean to bring up old shit.”
“I guess it’s unavoidable,” she mumbled. “But if we could ease into my failures, that would be appreciated.”
“Well, maybe this will help.” Mick waved at the server. “We’ll do a pitcher of beer.”
Abby shook her head and blushed. “Uh, just a Coke for me, please.”
Mick’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, scratch that. I’ll do the same.”
“You can drink whatever you want,” she said when the server left.
“No, it’s fine.” Mick narrowed her gaze. “I’ve never known you to turn down a drink.”
“Well, I turn them all down now.” Abby pushed out a grim smile. “Two years sober.”
Mick’s mouth fell. She let her take it in, catch up on the math and new context. “When did this happen? How?”
Abby picked at her napkin as the waiter dropped off their drinks.
“Not long after I was a total dick to you.” She winced.
“It was mostly booze, but I got tied up in painkillers after my injury. I messed a lot of things up, which we can talk about later.” Abby sighed.
“The main thing is, I’m here to say sorry to you. ”
“Oh, shit. Am I getting an amends?”
“Yeah.” Abby furrowed her brow. “Why are you smiling?”
“It just, it seems official. I’ve never had one of these.”
“Oh my God.”
“Can I record it for Haley and Shupe?”
“No!”
Mick snickered. “Did you write me something?”
“No. No, I was just going to talk to you.”
“Like a speech?”
“No, not really. Can you just try to take this seriously?”
“Ugh, fine. Go ahead.”
Abby laughed at how things hadn’t changed.
Mick certainly hadn’t. Her straw hair still pointed out with a cowlick at the back of her pixie cut and her hazel eyes favored green over gold.
Her big smile, round head, and husky, huggable build never failed to remind Abby of a cartoon character.
She wondered, now, sitting across from her, how she’d ever been afraid to come back.
Worse, how she ever managed to hurt her.
“I had time to reflect on the last few months I saw you. The way I treated you before I got clean.” Abby frowned. “First, I’m sorry for ruining your wedding.”
Mick waved her off. “You didn’t ruin my wedding. It was a little broken glass, and you already apologized for that.”
“Well, I’m still sorry. To Haley too. And your folks. I’m sure they hate me.”
“Are you kidding? My parents still ask about you every Christmas.”
Abby cracked a smile at the memories, then let it fade at what she nearly destroyed.
“I’m sorry for our last conversation. I was really fucked-up and I shouldn’t have taken things out on you.
” Her eyes prickled. “You are my family, Mick. Kate was Kate, but you were my first friend here. My best friend. You’ve always been there for me and I’m sorry I was too selfish to appreciate it, caught up in my own shit.
Not just then, but the years before that too. ”
“You’re hard on yourself.” Mick reached across the table and squeezed her forearm. “But I accept your apology.”
Abby sniffled. “I love you.”
“I love you too, idiot.” Mick stood to meet her for a hug. “You’re a good person, Cruz. A good friend.”
Abby slackened in the embrace, and when Mick clutched tighter, keeping her on her feet, the air settled deeper into her lungs. They’d shared hugs before, but none that Abby fully let herself go in. While she was the one tasked with mending the bridge, this was Mick mending her.
“I don’t know how you can say that after everything.” She dabbed a single tear as they retook their seats.
“Because you never stopped fighting, you know? And no matter how down you were, you still made us smile or hit one out of the park. In some ways, you were the best of us.”
“No. That’s Kate,” she said before she could stop herself or the blush that came after.
“In her own way, yeah. Kate’s our captain, our heart, but when shit hits the fan, when we need a clutch hit, it’s always you. You know why?” Mick’s eyes glowed with gentle admiration. “Because you’ve seen the shit. You’ve known loss and you persevered. Through this too.”
“I don’t know about that, but thanks, Mick.” Abby fiddled with the straw in her soda. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell you.”
“You’re not a welcome topic of conversation.” She shrugged and Abby ignored the punch in the gut. “So, you apologized to her too?”
“I did.”
“Before me?” she shouted and tossed a crumpled napkin at her.
Abby chuckled. “You’re my last one.”
“You saw her then?”
“No. I sent a letter.”
“You two and your letters.” Mick rolled her eyes. “You know I invite her to the alumni game every year and she never comes.”
“Really? I thought that would be her favorite day of the year.”
“Me too. You should come though.” She smacked the picnic table. “In fact, I’m demanding it as part of my amends.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Nah, I think it is,” she said. “How long are you in town for? You should stay with Hales and me.”
Abby shook her head. “I’m headed back to San Diego for a few days before I ship back out.”
“No.”
“Yes. You realize I have a job to do, right?”