Page 133 of Running Home to You
“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 playedor 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.”
