On the field, Anthony swung and missed for the second time. “Boooo,” José yelled at the umpire.
“Shhhh, José, the baby wants to sleep,” said Leticia in a quiet voice.
“Boooo,” he whispered, making Allie’s heart melt.
Wrapping Julissa in a mint-green minkie blanket, Leticia snuggled her close. She drifted back to sleep and sighed in contentment. Anthony stepped out of the batter’s box and adjusted his grip on the bat.
“I saw the billboard for Mark’s theater,” Allie admitted.
Leticia rocked side to side in her seat. Allie didn’t know if she even knew she was doing it; the woman had taken to being a mother naturally. “His first show opens in the fall. Do you want to go?” Leticia asked.
“I don’t think I should.”
“Should or could?”
“Could,” she admitted. A couple of days after she’d left Mark at the
church—man, that sounded bad, like she’d run out on him at their wedding—a producer had been caught on tape trying to buy cocaine from an undercover cop. Her and Mark’s story lost its momentum despite Aspen’s attempts to stir up trouble. There were a few articles painting the Hollywood starlet as the victim in this situation, but she really just came off as pathetic and spoiled.
When Allie had trudged home from the diner that night, there was a car waiting to take her to Leticia’s. Her new friend was a sympathetic shoulder to cry on with an unending supplyof chocolate ice cream and tissues. Over the next week, Allie went to work, repainted a nursery, and took a lot of chamomile-scented baths. “I miss him too much.”
Leticia patted her knee in sympathy. “It’s because you love him.”
“I know.” In all the time she’d been apart from Mark, she’d never dared approach the L-word in her thoughts. Falling in love with someone in a weekend was absurd. Absolutely ridiculous. Beyond reason. And totally possible when that person was your soul mate.
Anthony struck out. Allie quickly lifted her finger to her lips to remind José to be quiet.
“Bad call,” he stage-whispered.
The announcer wasted no time in moving the game along. “Time for the seventh inning stretch, folks. We’ve got a special surprise for y’all today. Would Allie Gray please step out onto the balcony? Come on, Allie!”
Allie pointed at Leticia. “What did you do?”
Leticia shook her head. “Not me, amiga.”
Allie shyly stepped through the glass door.
“Give us a wave, Allie, so we know it’s you.”
She lifted her hand and saw her movement on the jumbo screen. Laughing, she waved harder. People cheered. She waved both hands and it got louder. She finally understood why people danced like dorks and waved their baby’s arms to get on the screen. This was kind of fun.
She was watching the screen when the door opened behind her, and suddenly, there was Mark standing next to her on the screen. But that would mean ...
She turned to find him right beside her—close enough to touch. A thousand emotions swirled inside. Including joy and excitement at sharing the same three feet of space with the man she was desperately in love with, to worry over what wouldhappen when the press caught wind of this. Her heart pounded against her ribs, threatening to break right through. She placed her hand on his chest. “If you’re trying to be sneaky, you’re not doing a very good job,” she whispered.
Mark pulled a microphone to his mouth, his eyes alight with joy. “Hello, Braves fans!”
The crowd cheered. He whispered in her ear, his warm breath sending shivers of delight down her spine. “I’m done hiding how I feel about you.”
Was he ... were they ... was this ...?
Mark continued, “I’m Mark Dubois. Atlanta is my home, and I love this city.” The crowd cheered. “This is Allie Gray and she’s going to lead us in ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame.’”
Allie’s hand flew to her mouth. She shook her head. The crowd laughed.
“You can—you’ll be great.” He tipped the mic away. “The words will be on the screen, and I’ll be right here with you.” He laced their fingers together. “Sing.”
Allie took the mic. She gripped tight, the plastic sliding in her slippery palm. “Hit it,” she said, and the crowed clapped as the organist started the ol’ tune.
