Aaron slides his phone around on the table so we can read the email. It’s a five-year deal from the Seattle Seafarers, worth what I’ve been paid in the past. With options. I’d be able to retire from the game at forty, worse for the wear but on my terms.
I lift my brows at Nola. “How do you feel about ferry boats and good clam chowder?”
We pullout of the restaurant and are driving down Myrtle Street before I can’t hold it in any longer. I slap the steering wheel a few times and pump my fist against the ceiling before letting out a long “wooooo.”
Nola chuckles. “The need to judge you as harsh as you judge me for woo-ing is strong, but this is your night. Feels good to let it out, doesn’t it?”
“It really does.”
“Give me one more. I’ll even join you. Ready? One, two, three.” Her energy is palpable and I can’t help but give in.
The light turns red and we both release long, loud wooos in tandem, and I reach across to shake her shoulder like a madman high on life. “Nola! You . . . you are something else.”
“Oh, and here I thought you were going to say I was the perfect wife tonight and you’re so grateful you brought me along to bust Aaron a little.” The tease in her voice and sass in the way she lifts a shoulder and turns her head towards me isadorable. She’s not playful all the time, but when she is, I feel like it’s a side of her she only shares with me.
I let go of her shoulder and reach for her hand as the light turns green again. She goes quiet but wraps her fingers in mine and settles comfortably into her seat.
“Obviously you’re moving to Seattle, so what’s the next step?” she asks with less enthusiasm.
I think about it for a minute. “Well, I have to sign the contract and I’ll go meet the GM and manager. I need to find a place to live . . . The team reports to Arizona beginning of February for spring training.”
She lets this sink in before earnestly saying, “Merry Christmas, Maxford. You got exactly what you wanted.”
If anybody else had said that to me, I would have agreed wholeheartedly. It’s what I set out to do—be reinstated in the majors. Get signed, play a couple more years. Not many guys get a redo in life like I’m being handed but now there’s a pinch in my chest as I think about what I’m walking away from.
“What are you going to do with your house?” she asks.
“I’m not in any hurry to sell it while Stella’s alive,” I tell her, leaving out the way a permanent address in Boise will make me feel tethered to her even after we part ways. And it’ll be the best for her and Emma to be able to move on with their lives, but I’m already dreading the day.
We’re quiet the rest of the way home and I get her door, helping her out. One of my hands finds the small of her back again and the other fists into a ball. Why do I keep reaching for her tonight? We make our way slowly up the path to the house and instead of going inside, she turns to face me. In the glow of the Christmas lights, I can see teeth trying not to chatter.
“I just want to say I hope I didn’t overstep. I know I can be abrasive when it comes to making sure my people are taken care of.”
My people.This woman is going to kill me.
I shrug out of my suit coat and wrap it around her shoulders, pulling it tight in front of her before giving her a smile. She offers a timid one back and I lean down, brushing my nose against hers. Her lips part and there’s a sharp inhale of breath as she waits for me to make a move. My eyes drop to her mouth and look up to see hope wash across her face. It’s the other night on the living room floor all over again. Nola seems to want this as much as I do and it’s the perfect ending to the night we’ve had.
Pulling her half a step closer to me, I inch my mouth closer to hers right as the front door flies open. We jump apart and Emma stands triumphantly, one hand on the door, one on her hip, and a wide grin on her face.
“Aunt Belle said she heard the car pull up a few minutes ago. What’s taking you two so long?” she asks in a tone that is anything but innocent.
Nola sighs and peels off my suit jacket, handing it to me as she walks into the house. I stand on the porch and collect myself. She wanted me to kiss her; she was anticipating it as much as I was.Kids, I curse, shaking my head and stepping inside.
“Why in the world are you not in bed, young lady? It’ssolate—Elfshould’ve been over a long time ago.” Nola’s flustered and frustrated and looking around the living room.
Cookies and popcorn litter the coffee table, with cans of sparkling water and Diet Pepsi left on coasters. On the TV, Wesley and Buttercup are in the Fire Swamp. Nola doesn’t see the good time shared between aunt and niece that I would’vekilled to have as a kid. Stella and Grandpa had my dad, their only child, who, in turn, married an only child. It was a recipe for loneliness among the three of us, but we always were grateful at least Mom and Dad didn’t stick to the one-child tradition set by their parents.
Emma holds her ground. “It did and then we startedThe Princess Bridebecause it’s the best and I wasn’t tired.”
“Bed. Now.” Nola points down the hall and her daughter huffs, grabbing her blanket off the sofa and starting toward her room as Belle comes into the kitchen from the garage.
“Hey, how’d it go tonight?” she asks, oblivious to what’s been going on.
Spinning back around, Emma’s grin is back in place as she answers for all of us. “I was right about them, Aunt Belle. You owe me twenty bucks.”
18
MAXFORD
