After that we stop talking to watch the rest of the game. I’m twisted up in goddamn knots for the first time in my life, and I hate it. It’s unlike me to be unsure of myself, so while the guys cheer on the Kings, I remember what’s always been most important to me. Baseball. It’s uncomplicated, fulfilling, and never leaves me in doubt. It’s what I’m best at. Chloe distracted me in the best possible way, but no more.
*
“Fetch!” I tellSammy, tossing the ball across the field. She’s grown since I last saw her. Joshua has, too. He’s taller, put on a few pounds. His mom says he’s the happiest she’s ever seen him, thanks to his four-legged best friend.
He’s standing on my left; his brother Jesse is on my right. We’re at the park across the street from their house. It’s Saturday morning. The sun is shining, but the smell of chimney smoke fills the air.
“See how good she is now?” Josh says when Sammy brings the ball right back and drops it at our feet. He picks up the toy and throws it again.
“You’ve taught her well.”
“We’re doing puppy school and our teacher says Sammy is one of the smartest dogs she’s ever seen,” Jesse says with pride.
“She’s an A-plus student,” Josh adds.
I know about the training. I’ve made sure the Davidson family has everything they need where Sammy is concerned. My mom was upset with me when I told her I’d given Sammy away—until she heard the reason why. I’ve never lost Mom points and gained them back so fast in my life.
“Except she likes to eat our shoes.” Josh pets her head and then lobs the ball again.
She catches it midair, returns it, chases down a pitch from Jesse, returns it. I wonder who will tire first, Sammy or the boys.
I look down at the boys’ feet. Sure enough, the rubber toe of Josh’s sneaker has a chunk missing. “I can see that. Have your feet grown since I last saw you?”
“Yep. I’m a size one now,” Josh says. “No more baby shoes for me.”
“I’m a size four.” Jesse lifts his leg to show me.
I remember my mom buying me and my brothers shoes almost every month, our feet grew so fast. Monday morning I’ll have a box of new shoes in their sizes and a few sizes up delivered to their house. It’s my fault, after all, their shoes are being eaten.
The boys talk nonstop as we play with Sammy. They tell me what Santa brought them, what movies they’ve watched, how when they go back to school it won’t be long before baseball season starts. For me either. In just six weeks I’ll be taking the field with my team for our first full-squad workout. Two weeks after that I’ll be in Arizona for our first spring training game. I close my eyes for a second to picture the emerald-green grass, the snow-white bases, the scoreboard. I can’t wait to get back out there. My fingers tingle thinking about wearing my glove on the regular.
“All right, guys, it’s time I walk you home.” I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to stop by Chloe’s. Rena told me her flight from Sacramento was landing this morning, and it’s walking distance to her house, but given our relationship has cooled off, maybe it’s best to leave the ball in her court.
Josh skips ahead with Sammy. He’s got the ball in his hand so Sammy is trying to snag it out of his palm. Her playfulness gets to him and he throws the ball. The kid has a good arm and the ball sails toward the street.
Sammy takes off running for it. I see a car turn the corner. My pulse picks up as my stomach sinks. “Sammy, no!” I shout. She doesn’t listen.
I give chase, passing Josh who has started to run, too. “Stay here,” I command, grateful when I glance over my shoulder to find he and Jesse are huddled together, stricken looks on their almost identical faces.
Don’t do it, Sammy. Don’t run into the street.The car continues, albeit at a slow speed, but whatever tons of metal it weighs is no match for a thirty-pound dog. “Sammy! Stop!”
She slows for one thundering heartbeat before the ball bounces and she can’t help but follow it.Shit.I’m closing the gap, closer…closer. She’s just about within reach. The ball rolls into the street. Sammy stops at the curb,thank fuck, but a split second later she’s on the asphalt. The car puts on its brakes, screeching toward a stop. I lunge off the sidewalk, catch Sammy’s fur in my fingers and yank. She yelps as I crash to the ground with her in my arms. The smell of burned rubber stings my nose.
There’s another thing that stings. Althoughstingisn’t the right word, not by a long shot. Scathing pain radiates in my shoulder and across my collarbone.Not again. Please God, not again.The last thing I remember is Sammy licking my face.
*
When I wakeup my eyelids feel too heavy for my face. My throat is parched. The bed I’m lying on is comfortable as hell, though. There’s a vitals cart to my left. Looks like I’ve got a steady heart rhythm and normal blood pressure. That’s reassuring. And at the foot of the bed and to my right is my entire immediate family, staring at me like I’ve woken from a year-long coma. That isn’t so reassuring.
“Hello, darling,” my mom says.
I try to sit up. Pain hurtles through my neck and shoulders, my upper chest. A whimper slips through my pursed lips. I’ve got a goddamn sling on my left arm again.
“Don’t move.” Ethan puts his arm across my body. “I’ll bring the bed up for you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as the events of earlier flood my memory. “Is Sammy okay? Josh and Jesse? The driver of the car?”
“Everyone is fine,” my mom says. “The Davidsons are in the waiting room. The boys told us what happened and they feel terrible but we assured them it wasn’t their fault.”