“Are drivers here always so…”
“Aggressive? Annoying?” Millie asked.
“With a death wish?” Naomi asked. She nodded. “Yes.”
“I’d say you get used to it, and I guess you do, sort of.” Ida Jane wrinkled her nose. “But it’s still shocking when someone tries to rip off your back bumper at seventy miles per hour. I don’t like to drive.”
“Which is why you make Uber or Maxim take you everywhere,” Millie added.
“Not true!” Ida Jane shot back. “I make you drive, too.”
They smiled at each other, and I could see the years of friendship connecting them.
“Well, let’s see what you’ve got, what you need, and what you think of the transformation to the house,” Naomi said.
“And then we’ll watch the game,” Paloma said.
“But not properly because most of us can’t have alcohol,” Naomi said on a sigh.
“I brought some of those mocktail drinkie-things,” Millie said.
“Yay,” Keelie exclaimed. “I call a fake G and T!”
My head bounced around as I tried to process it all. I once again envied these women their strong bond. Would I ever be part of it? I was quiet, preferring to observe rather than dive in, but I should have realized they wouldn’t let me hang on the sidelines exclusively.
“Don’t mind them,” Paloma said kindly. She touched my shoulder, letting me know she was a hugger.
Good. I wanted one of those—manyof those—in my life. After spending most of my years deprived of human touch, I was like parched ground to mist. I soaked it up and wished for more. I’d missed Paxton’s easy touch more than just about anything. With him, I’d felt seen, wanted, loved. Since he’d left me, I’d struggled to connect.
“They’re exuberant,” I said.
“We are.” Naomi winked. “Our joie de vivre is half of our charm.”
“What’s the other half?” Millie wanted to know. She shoved her thick, dark frames up her button nose. She was cute in the way many of the women I worked with were: great bone structure and features, long lashes, and a seeming disregard for makeup or even matching clothes.
With Millie, I’d felt an immediate connection. She’d understand my stress about a specific, difficult assignment or research in a way that sensuous and confident Naomi wouldn’t. I wasn’t yet sure about Keelie, who seemed observant and quieter than Ida Jane or Naomi.
“All right. Let’s all grab something from the tailgate and bring it in to Hana’s room,” Paloma said, taking charge.
I had a feeling that was often her role. I clicked open the locks and stood to the side as the women chattered, each grabbing a bag or box from the trunk. Their babies all cuddled in close.
“How did they synchronize the kids’ nap schedules?” I asked Paloma.
She smiled. “They didn’t. But babies tend to sleep better and deeper when connected to their mother.”
“Ah.” Not my most brilliant response, but the only one that came to mind.
Paloma grabbed a bigger box, so I did the same. “Naese said you have a brother.”
“Yes, Aiki.” I bit my lip. “He’s a year older than Paxton. We’re not that close.”
We hadn’t been since he’d broken down and admitted he was jealous of Paxton and had poisoned Mother against him. I hadn’t figured out how—or if—I could forgive him.
“Because of Naese?” Paloma asked. She seemed to already know the answer.
“In part. Aiki was a great athlete, but not as good as Pax.”
Paloma hummed. “Few are. You aren’t the first person to tell me that’s caused discord.” She shook her head. “These guys seem like they have it all—and they have an awful lot, don’t get me wrong—but it’s not as wonderful or easy as outsiders think. Constant jealousy, performance anxiety, the threat of trades and demotions. It can be emotionally as well as physically taxing. That’s why we work so hard to foster relationships between the players and with the CATS. A strong support system makes a huge difference for the players’ and their families’ quality of life.”
