Insley
These days the table was full for family dinner.
Two squirmy little boys, an old mustached man, a district court judge with the first traces of gray threading into his hair, and an effortlessly elegant law professor had already gathered when Abby slipped into the sixth seat.
As she nodded at Audie across from her and smiled at Isla, who passed her the salad bowl, she wondered if they also thought this strange but warm mix of unlikely people was proof that they had achieved the impossible.
“Big game this weekend,” Audie said to her.
While it was just the alumni game, while she was nearing thirty and well past playing competitively, it made her feel young. Like another one of those moments they had missed out on but now got to make up for.
“Just hoping I don’t embarrass myself.” Abby smirked.
Audie shook his head, waving her off. He leaned conspiratorially to the grandson nearest to him. “Your aunt was the best hitter I’ve ever seen. She hit a home run almost every game.”
The little boy’s brown eyes stretched wide. “Better than you?” he asked. The boys were old enough to understand Audie’s legacy, recognizing his statue and records at Petco Park.
“No,” Abby said.
“Much better.” Audie winked. “You know why? Because she never gave up.”
Abby shook her head at him but reflected his smile.
The sun set while she and Isla did dishes, while Luca took the boys up for bath time, while Audie kissed their cheeks before saying goodbye.
Sleep seemed unlikely so Abby didn’t try, lounging by the pool, the slither of ocean and sway of palm trees drowning out everything but her thoughts.
Thoughts of going back, of playing, of Kate.
“What’s that?” Isla asked over her shoulder.
“Just some houses T.K. sent over.” Abby resisted slamming the laptop shut as Isla squeezed onto the lounge chair next to her.
“Are you moving?”
She shrugged. “It’s been two years. Thought it might be time to get out of your hair.”
“You’re hardly in my hair. You’re on the road two-thirds of the year.”
“Well, the boys are getting older and I—”
“But you don’t have to go.” Isla frowned. “I don’t know if I want you to go.”
Abby’s eyes widened. “This was only supposed to be temporary.”
But that too reminded her of Insley. While she had moved because of Isla, she never expected to gain such a deep bond. For either of them to care when their roads diverged.
“Are you sure? It’s a big step…”
“I’ll still babysit.”
“Oh, well, in that case, let me take a look.” Isla clicked through the listings before Abby could stop her. T.K. had tracked down options in San Diego, Los Angeles, and “San Francisco?”
Isla raised a brow at her and Abby blushed.
“T.K. thought she was being funny,” she said. Of course, it didn’t stop Abby from browsing additional Bay Area listings on real estate websites.
“Is she going to be there?”
“Who?”
Isla scoffed. “Kate.”
Abby gulped and closed the laptop louder than necessary. “I don’t know. Mick told me she’s never come before. And I haven’t asked since then.”
“What are you going to do if she’s there?”
“Get on bended knee and recite a sonnet.”
“I’m serious! She was supposed to marry that guy, and she didn’t, right? Doesn’t that count for something?”
“I don’t know.” Abby sighed and stared into the pool. “She never wrote me back.”
“Well, weren’t you the one who never wrote her back?” Isla smirked and Abby rolled her eyes. “I always liked you two together. Always liked her, honestly. Maybe better than you.”
“That was no secret.”
Isla smiled. “I hope she’s there.”
“Me too,” Abby whispered.
“Part of me wants to go with you. Not for that, but back to Insley. There was always something magical about it.” She gazed wistfully to the horizon, where the water met the sky. “Or maybe it’s that my life started over there.”
Abby smiled. “Mine did too.”
“Have you forgiven yourself ?”
“Almost.”
“Good.” Isla knocked her head to Abby’s. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Isla patted her shoulder before standing up and backing toward the main house. “Text when you land?”
“Always.”
“And tell Kate hi for me. Tell her we’re proud of her.”
“I will.”
Abby arrived at Insley a day early—in part because Mick insisted, but also because she longed to return to the field. While she’d indulged in a few hitting sessions with Audie, she hadn’t truly played or picked up a glove since getting clean. She couldn’t imagine a better place to wade back in.
She joined Mick at the Eagles’ practice, smirking at the young college players who listened to her friend’s every word, who called her Coach, whose ranks she swore they had been in just yesterday.
Mick gave Abby a vivacious introduction to the squad, which she turned red at.
She encouraged her to share pointers while she observed, and then when they took infield, Mick nudged her.
“Get out there.”
“No,” Abby said.
“Come on!” Mick shouted. “Just take a few!”
The players encouraged and waved her on, until Abby jogged out to shortstop, secretly biting down a grin.
Within minutes, dust covered her sneakers and joggers, sweat coated her back, and a throb radiated from her hips to her knees.
Still, Abby crouched into position with her glove as a ball skipped toward her.
She anticipated the hop, met it after the bounce, and cradled it like an egg before throwing to first.
“She’s still got it!” Mick shouted from home plate. She hit another ball to Abby. “Show these kids how it’s done, Cruz.”
Despite stiff joints and frayed twitch muscles, Abby didn’t miss a grounder.
She couldn’t dive or stretch like she used to, but her footwork, her reads, her throw, didn’t lose their shine.
In fact, this slower, less risky play brought something refined to her game, like gliding on water.
A steadiness she had never valued before.
Soon, the players gathered around as she demonstrated a behind-the-back toss to second.
She took more grounders, flipped her hat backward as the sun beat down on her neck.
She felt twenty-two again, in love with the game.
In love with its sound and its rhythm. It was like she regained a piece of herself every time she snagged a ball.
Except for the piece of her still missing.
That piece being Kate. Abby looked twice for her at second base, frowning ever so slightly at her absence.
“Hit one!” Mick drilled another grounder to her.
Abby scooped the ball, set her feet, and zipped a throw to first base.
“Again!”
She froze before crouching for the next grounder.
For so long, she’d pictured her, what it might be like when she finally arrived, if she were to even come for the game, but she never imagined this.
Kate, in the stands, like some strange but welcome dream, one that radiated with the kindness of the past and the thrill of all that had changed since then.
She didn’t look like the Kate who had once taken the field, but Abby knew every version of her and would’ve known a million more.
Chestnut tresses curled down her shoulders, sunglasses hid her eyes, and she wore a suit and heels—she must have come from work.
Polished, strong, maybe even a touch stern, with her arms crossed.
Abby searched for a smile, for a sigh, for a sign of what she might be thinking.
She only spent a half second gawking, but it was enough to put her in harm’s way. She registered the ping of Mick’s bat too late and knew without seeing it that the ball was destined for her shin. It hit bone before she could move, and Abby grunted, doubled over, and gritted her teeth.
“Fuck!” She hopped on her good leg, ripped off her glove, and slammed it down. “Mick, you motherfucker!”
The college players snorted.
“Dude, I’m sorry,” Mick said, hustling over. “I thought you were paying attention.”
“I got distracted.” Abby glanced at Kate, who’d made it down to the chain-link fence and observed with a grimace.
“Oh.” Mick patted her shoulder. “Sorry, I should’ve made you look cooler. Maybe she saw the other plays.”
Abby shoved her. “Shut up.”
She sucked in a pained breath through clenched teeth and straightened up. Dirt covered her untucked shirt and one of her pant legs was higher than the other. She tried not to limp, but ended up hobbling across the infield, her shin radiating with the promise of a fresh bruise.
It wasn’t how she wanted to see Kate, but something else in her took over. Something carnal and lasting that trumped ego. And even still, when she reached her, Abby didn’t know what to say. She stopped at the fence and let the chain-link barrier ease them into reunion.
“Are you okay?” Kate asked. “That looked really bad.”
“I’m all right, but I think I already feel the laces.” She smiled, unable to fight it, and Kate grinned back. Abby quietly choked on a breath and had to whisper the rest. “How are you?”
“What a surprise!” Mick opened the gate and threw her arms around Kate. “Who would’ve known?”
“You.” Kate shook her head as they hugged.
“I must have gotten my days mixed up and invited you early.”
“Oh, is that it?”
Abby rolled her eyes. “How could you possibly make a mistake like that, Mick?”
She shrugged. “I’ve got to wrap up practice. Just give me twenty minutes.” Mick winked as she backed away. “Don’t kill each other.”
“She’s still as subtle as a brick through a fucking window.”