“I wish I was,” her friend told her, sounding extremely irritated. “He hasn’t been home since before the funeral. Kick his ass to the curb, Mar, I’m not kidding. What kind of man doesn’t come home to look after his kid?”
“He’s hurting, too, Blue,” she tried to reason, but even she knew she was full of it and making excuses for him. “He probably just needed a breather.”
Blue scoffed on the other end of the line, and Marlowe knew she was trying not to rip her apart. “He is never here, Mar. I don’t think he’s been around a single time in the last three months that I’ve stopped by. That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’re hurting more than he is. Margot wasn’t his friend, she was our sister.”
“How is Claire?” Marlowe asked, cutting into her friend’s rant to make sure her daughter was okay.
“She’s fine,” she responded, her tone already lighter, and a smile came to Marlowe’s face. “She’s been asleep for a few hours now. When are you coming home?”
Marlowe looked back over her shoulder to see the stranger still laying out on the chair, but his eyes were glued to her. When their eyes met, he sent her a smile and she couldn’t stop herself from reciprocating it. “Give me twenty minutes.”
She said goodbye and hung up the phone before making her way back over to the man who had brought a bit of light to her horrible day. She sat down but didn’t lie back, and the man sat up so their knees were almost touching.
“I have to get going,” she informed him, and she didn’t miss the way his face fell slightly upon hearing those words. “But I have a question for you.”
“Fire away,” he told her, curious about what she was going to ask him.
Marlowe smiled softly. “Do you believe in fate?”
“I don’t know if I’d call it fate,” he answered honestly, mulling it over. “But I believe everything happens for a reason.”
“And couldn’t one argue that it’s the same thing?”
The man smiled, enjoying how she was challenging him. “One could, yes. But then I would say that fate means things aren’t in our control. However, I believe that everything that happens does for a reason, and then we are in control of how we react to it and what we do with it. Whether or not we let it affect our lives is up to us.”
“I like that,” Marlowe told him with a smile. “And what are you going to do with this moment?”
“Oh, you’ve already impacted me, beautiful,” he told her as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And I have a feeling our paths will cross again.”
Marlowe stared at him for a moment, surprised by how close he was. She knew now was as good of a time as any, that she needed to get out of there before she leaned into him; she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home and a two-year-old daughter that needed her attention. She couldn’t go falling for strangers she met on rooftops.
She stood without a word and made her way towards the metal door she had used to come up to the roof. Marlowe, however, didn’t notice the surprise on his expression as she did so, smiling softly to herself over the fact that she had impacted him.
And he had impacted her, too.
“Wait,” he yelled after her just as she had opened the door. She peeked around it to see him standing by his chair, a curious expression on his face accompanied by a smile of his own. “I never caught your name.”
“I didn’t give you one,” she reminded him, her hand gripping the handle. “Maybe one day we’ll find out if fate is real.”
CHAPTER ONE
FIVE YEARS LATER…
“Run, Claire!” I leap off the cold bleachers, cupping my hands around my mouth. “Run, baby!”
“Come on, Southpaw!” Blue encourages, standing beside me.
Those on the home side are all cheering her on as she now rounds second base while the opposing team fumbles with the ball in the outfield. I clap frantically, still yelling loudly as I will her little legs to carry her to home plate.
As she rounds third, the outfielders finally get hold of the ball and launch it toward the catcher. Her coach is telling her to slide, and my hands cover my mouth on their own accord; sliding is the one thing she has yet to master.
Blue reaches for my hands, pulling my right one away from my face and gripping it tightly in her own. My eyes widen as Claire slides effortlessly into home plate just moments before the catcher gets hold of the softball.
“Safe!” the umpire yells, and our half of the bleachers go wild.
Blue screams, jumping up and down with me in tow, both of us celebrating my little girl. All the surrounding parents are yelling their own cheers, the last game of fall league won from my daughter’s hit.
I push past two parents, not caring as I run towards the field and grip the chain-link fence, watching as Claire pushes herself up to her feet and receives a high-five from her coach. She turns to me with the biggest smile gracing her beautiful face.
