In baseball, we used to joke about the brass balls of someone, the audacity. Miriam’s parents had the biggest I’d ever encountered. Who waits until their daughter has died to try and form a relationship with their grandchildren?
Kenneth and Victoria, that’s who.
Honestly, I shouldn’t have been surprised, especially after what Antonia had told me about them. I’d never really expected them to show up. They’d written Miriam off years ago; why care now?
Scout greeted me at the door, hungry and needing to go out. I hadn’t spent much time with him today because of the service and wake afterward, but I was grateful to Jerome for coming over to check on him.
I let him out while I made his dinner, and once he’d finished, we went out back and tossed his ball. Each time I threw it, he’d return it and then wait for me to chuck it out into the yard for him. We did thisuntil my arm got tired and Scout’s tongue looked like a permanent fixture hanging from the side of his mouth.
While he drank his weight in water, I showered quickly, and then afterward, Scout and I sat on the couch and flipped through the channels.
This past week had been odd, knowing Miriam had passed away but seeing Cutter at school and practice. I had excused him from practice for the week, even though we were getting ready for our first playoff game, but he was there. He put in the time and the effort, and he did what I asked of him without quitting.
I scrolled through the online guide until I found a college game. I turned it on and leaned back, closing my eyes.
The clanging of weights startled me awake. I rubbed my face to clear the sleep away and looked at my watch. It was after eight, and I figured Cutter was in my garage, taking his anger out with some lifting.
“Some guard dog you are,” I said to Scout as I stood. He didn’t bother to move as I made my way toward my garage. I opened the door, surprised to find Antonia instead of Cutter.
She stood at the heavy bag, punching, slapping, and kicking it. Without saying anything, I went over and held it for her, to give her a solid, unmoving target.
Antonia screamed and hit it again and again. Tears streamed down her face as she whaled on this bag as if it had hurt her somehow.
Each hit had to hurt. She wasn’t wearing gloves, and I suspected her knuckles were splitting open. But also, I imagined each blow felt good and was somehow cathartic. This was the perfect way for her to release her anger, the rage she felt inside. Her friend had left her, and no matter how well you prepared for it, the gaping wound left behind would take a lot of time to heal.
Antonia stopped. Her chest heaved, a combination of exertion and crying.
“She’s gone,” she said, her breathing labored.
“I know.” I felt it safe to move, so I stepped out from behind the bag and reached for her hands. Her knuckles were red and likely bruised, but the skin hadn’t broken. “I’m going to put some cream on them.”
I went to a cabinet where I kept a Bluetooth speaker, a small refrigerator full of water and sports drinks, and every other necessity I needed when I was out there. I found the ointment and took it back to Antonia, who hadn’t moved.
She looked utterly defeated. Her shoulders sagged, and she slouched. The hazel eyes that I couldn’t get enough of looked lifeless.
I applied the ointment to each knuckle carefully. “You might bruise.”
“I don’t care.”
This much I knew. After I finished, I contemplated throwing the ointment toward the counter because I didn’t want to let go of her hands. Sadly, I did the right thing and walked away from her.
My timing was horrible, but that was what I got for staying out of the dating game for so long. Also, my flirting game thoroughly sucked. I’d started the second I could with her, but it had taken Miriam and the others to tell her the dinner we’d had was, in fact, a date.
Short of asking her to be my girlfriend, like the boys at school did, I didn’t know what else to do to get my feelings across. She already knew I liked her, but did she understand how much? Did she know I wanted to be there for her?
Was I a fool for thinking she didn’t need time to grieve her previous relationship? Probably, but patience had never been my strong suit.
I lingered at the counter, unable to face her with the myriad of thoughts running through my mind. I heard her breath hitch, a choked sob escaping before she could stifle it.
The sound shattered me.
I turned just as her legs gave out, her body crumbling to the floor. I was there before she hit the ground, my arms wrapping around her, pulling her against my chest. She trembled violently, her fingers clutching at my shirt as though she were drowning and I was her only lifeline.
“She’s gone,” she whispered, her voice breaking, raw with agony. “I don’t know how to do this without her. I’ve never done this life without her.”
Her pain was palpable, suffocating. I held her tighter, my fingers threading through her hair as I rocked her gently, murmuring words of comfort that felt hollow even to my own ears. I wanted to take her pain away, to breathe life back into those hazel eyes that still looked so vacant.
She looked up at me, her face streaked with tears, eyes searching mine as if trying to find something to anchor herself with. Her gaze dropped to my mouth, lingering.
