She thought of me. She remembered.
“Thank you, but it’s okay. This was kind of last minute.” I twist my ring again and tell them about the ultimatum.
They don’t say anything at first, their gaze faraway. I side-eye Pen, wondering what I could’ve said wrong.
“Danny didn’t tell them about the lessons,” she answers my unspoken question.
My brows arc high, shocked that he didn’t tell them and worried he probably didn’t want them to know that.
“He’s really letting you?” Julio asks me as something flashes across his eyes.
“He didn’t want to at first, but we talked.” I fiddle with the other rings. “And now we do this once a week. It’s been a little hard with his schedule, but we’re making it work.”
“And he’s making progress?” he questions with a strain in his voice.
“Yeah, slowly but surely, he’s learning. He’s a lot more confident than he was two months ago.”
They both look shocked.
“Two months?” Esmeralda’s voice is thick with emotion.
I nod, offering a small smile. “And I’ll take as long as he needs. This isn’t something that should be rushed.”
“No, no, it’s not.” She places her palm on my shoulder. “Thank you for helping him.”
“You don’t need to thank me. I’m just doing my job.”
Julio shakes his head. “We do. Danny would’ve never told us. He doesn’t like?—”
“Papa,” Pen warns, sighing wearily. “Wonder why he doesn’t?”
He rubs the nape of his neck. “Can you…keep us updated?”
“If Daniel wants that, I will,” I answer.
His forehead wrinkles, eyes narrowing like he didn’t like the answer, but he chuckles. “Thank you for being patient with him.”
I sheepishly shrug.
He smiles like he understands how I feel. He’s nice but stoic, it’s weird and I kind of don’t mind it. “You should come to the bakery sometime.”
“Uh, yeah, one day.”
“Anytime you want.” Esmeralda grins, and they both take a seat next to Pen.
“Sorry about that,” she whispers and digs in her clear vinyl bag, pulling out a baseball.
“That’s okay. What’d you bring that for?”
“For you.” She places it on my palm, and looks to the kids by the railing, getting their baseballs and jerseys signed by the players.
Daniel’s taking pictures with a few kids and when they’re done, his eyes instantly find mine. Sparks, flutters, butterflies—I’m not sure if those are the words or if there’s one to describe the rush that spreads through my body at seeing him.
Whatever that word may be, I’m so happy, I can’t remember ever genuinely feeling this. I place my palm to my chest, rubbing it because my heart is going crazy.
“Go.” She gently shoves my shoulder, snapping me out of it. “The game will start soon.”
I’m up and heading toward him. He tracks my movements, eyes set ablaze as they coast down my body then linger on the jersey with his number.
