I pay her close attention, listening for information she may have left out previously.
Sweet isn’t a word I’d use to describe my grandmother, yet she says enough sweet things to make Chloe’s eyes water. Without thought, I take Chloe’s hand in mine. She gives a quick squeeze back before pulling her arm away.
The too brief acknowledgment is a reminder she doesn’t want anything from me except my social media accounts.
“You know you could start PT and work out in Hawaii,” my grandmother points out, wisely changing the subject back to me.
I know that. I also know an entire week without my family stopping by to check on me is what I need more than anything else. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful because I’m not. I love my family.
But they don’t always understand my desire for solitude. Ethan and Drew call me self-absorbed, and they’re right. I didn’t get to where I am in my career by socializing. I got here because I’ve put in the time and effort, and because baseball is what I’m good at. It wasn’t a struggle like everything else in my life, and since understanding that incredible gift, I’ve worked my ass off every day to be the best ball player I can be.
And now that I am the best (hey, my stats don’t lie), I want to keep that distinction for as long as possible. My injury has screwed with that. It’s screwed with my head. The sooner I get back into my routine, the better.
“That’s true, but I’m staying put.”
“You’re choosing exercise over your family for a holiday that is traditionally all about relatives and eating way too much turkey and only happens once a year?” Chloe asks.
Yep, this two against one sucks. “This time, yes.”
“That’s dumb.”
I know she means my choice is dumb, not thatI’mdumb, but it rubs me the wrong way and my entire body tenses. I haven’t been made to feel unintelligent in years and I’m not sure why I do now except to think no woman has gotten to me like Chloe has since high school. A picture of my high school girlfriend, Sarina, floats through my mind. Her telling me how amazing I was the day I was drafted, how smart. Only for me to overhear her tell all our friends the next day how stupid I was and if not for baseball I’d be nothing.
My grandmother meets my eyes. She knows lunch is over. “Grandmother, it was a pleasure as always.” I stand, lean over the table to kiss her cheek.
“Please don’t rush off,” she says.
“I have to. I’ll talk to you before you leave for Hawaii.”
Understanding clouds her blue gaze. She’s always been perceptive, like Yoda, only better and slightly bigger.
Chloe gets to her feet. “It was really nice to meet you, Rosemary. I’m sorry if I’ve cut your lunch with your grandson short.” Seems Chloe is perceptive too.
“It was lovely to meet you. I hope to see you again.”
“Will you tell Louis the meal was excellent?” I ask.
“I will. You sure you won’t stay for dessert?”
Damn it. I feel terrible for leaving early but distance from Chloe is more necessary at the moment. When my head says flee I’m useless to stop the impulse. “I’m sure.”
I make my escape to the reserved parking in the alley behind the restaurant with Chloe at my side. I wish we’d taken two cars. Separation will have to wait a little longer.
“Finn.” Chloe stops once we’re outside, the click of the heavy black door in some way leaving my insecurity inside. In another way reminding me I can’t lock this part of who I am away.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I haven’t known you for very long, Chloe, but I’m pretty sure you don’t say anything you don’t mean.” I’m acting like my seventeen-year-old self and I don’t like it. What is it about this woman?
She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth then walks to the car and climbs into the passenger seat. She snaps in her seat belt, crosses her arms over her chest and turns her head away from me to look out the side window. When I struggle to pull my seat belt across my body and lock it into place with one hand, she leans over to help.
“Thank you.”
She mumbles something in response and resumes her position.
The first few minutes in the leather seats go by in uncomfortable silence. It’s the first time there’s been such heavy strain between us, the air thick and uncertain, and I’d rather miss batting practice than feel this bothered.Huh.