Rose is up next, and I cheer with the rest of the crowd as she focuses in. There’s a buzz in the crowd even though this is kids’ softball, and my heart warms to be back in Northport again, among people who care about the little moments of life. Who slow down to go to kids’ sports games and throw fundraisers for footbridges that are actually fun and bring everyone together. Rose sends the ball flying over the first baseman’s head, bringing Marissa’s feet slapping over home plate. Rose does a little dance at second base, and I whoop as loud as I can for her. The next girl is struck out, and the inning ends.
Maddy stands up and stretches, grabbing the cooler. “I’m going to see if they want these before the next inning starts. It’s hot. You wanna come?” She tips her head in Luke’s direction, and I’m about to say yes when I notice Izzy bounding onto the field. Luke slings an arm over her shoulder as she pulls a water bottle out of her bag and hands it to him. He chugs it down and thanks her by bopping her on the nose with the empty bottle. They fit so well together. She’s wearingsunglasses, but they can’t hide the way she lights up as she talks to him. Some of the girls come over, shy but excited to say hi to her too. They all clearly know her. She must come to these things a lot when she’s not at school. Serious or not, she’s important to Luke. My heart clenches, and I remind myself that I’m notfromhere. Being a local is a big deal in Northport. In that way, Izzy and Luke are perfect for each other.
*
When the game is over, we grab more snacks and follow the considerable crowd over to the exhibition game. Marissa is giddy from the win, and I’m surprised the usually sports-averse Maddy is invested too.
“You can see the Northport boys at their best. God knows when Luke and the other seniors are gone they won’t have the same winning streak.”
Marissa argues that that’s not fair, it’s a team sport and he’s just one person.
We squeeze into the packed stands around the main field, and I text Jackson our location so he can find us in the crowd. We end up behind Izzy and some of Maddy’s and Luke’s other friends. Luke’s mom and his brothers are here too, down in the front, and Adam stands on the bench wiggling his arms at me. Paula turns her head and waves. Luke appears next to them, and Adam wraps his arms around Luke’s waist, looking up at his brother like he invented the sun. Luke laughs, then looks up. His eyes land right on me, and my breath catches in my throat. But then Jackson slides into the row with us and putshis arm around me. I lean into him as Maddy runs through the rest of the roster and the high school team takes the field.
I recognize most of the guys on Luke’s team, and they’ve all grown similarly, though none of them seem as charismatic as Luke. He stops to talk to at least five or six more people as he heads back to the field. Jackson asks if I’m rooting for one side or the other.
“Hmm,” I say, thinking. “I’m going with the boys.”
“My money’s on the old folks,” he says.
I laugh. “Suit yourself.”
The fire chief is up to bat first, and she makes a big show of trying to get the ump to walk her, eventually getting her way, to the delight of the crowd.
“So it’s not a real game?” I say to Maddy, reaching into the cooler for some of the candy.
She shrugs. “I don’t really pay attention.” She taps Izzy on the shoulder and asks the same question.
“I think it’ll pick up,” Izzy says, pointing to the lineup of first responders, who, unlike the chief, look fresh-faced and young, ready to play. “Don’t worry, we’ll get to see Luke at his best. He’s not one for going halfway.”
“Oh, I was just curious,” I say. It comes out all in a rush, and I quickly turn and offer Jackson some sour worms.
She’s right, though. The next two batters get on base, and the crowd quiets as the pitcher throws the ball to one of the EMTs. The first two pitches are strikes, but he connects on the third pitch. The ball goes whipping toward the third baseman and Luke, who plays shortstop. It looks like there’s no way either of them will get there in time—until Luke does. He dives,catching the ball with an outstretched hand. I cringe as he lands hard on his right side, but he’s up in an instant, the ball flying toward home to catch the runner out too. The crowd goes nuts. Izzy’s jumping up and down, hollering with the rest of them, while Maddy claps and Marissa shouts, “Go, Coach Luke!”
“Okay, maybe you chose the right team,” Jackson says with a laugh.
Luke dusts off his uniform and tips his hat to the crowd. The fact that he has this wider life now, friends who used to be bullies now teammates, girls who’d never looked at him twice fawning over him, townies who proudly say “That’s our boy” like they raised him instead of giving him a hard time for preferring art camp over fishing at the docks. I feel like I’m stuck in a cheery Hallmark movie, just one of those extras lingering on the fringe.
During the third inning I tell Maddy I’m feeling tired, and I ask Jackson to take me home. We slip away, and I wait in the parking lot for Jackson to pull his BMW around. My back is to the field, but I can still hear the announcer’s voice echoing over a wave of cheers.
“And that’s a home run from our own Luke Tisdale, number forty-two, Northport’s finest, showing us how it’s done!” I’m proud of him, I realize, beneath the loss, knowing he’s no longer justmyLuke. He’s found a place here, made it his, and maybe me not fitting in it anymore is just the way it’s meant to be.
Chapter Twelve
Sera
One of the best features of Northport is its Fourth of July celebration. While the town doesn’t have its own parade, it has the best carnival and fireworks by far. Jackson invited me to spend the weekend with his friends on Nantucket, but I wanted to spend the holiday here. My whole family went down to the carnival on Harborside with Paula, Oliver, and Adam. Maddy placed second in the pie contest—right behind Mrs.Stone, of course. Luke was volunteering again, but he’d appear every couple of hours for hot dogs or fried dough, to challenge me to games, and to take his brothers on the rickety rides. It was almost like old times. Poor Dad has a migraine by the time we’re home to pack our picnic dinner and begs off for the rest of the night.
“The fireworks can go off without me,” he says as he pulls an iced eye mask from the fridge. “If that’s okay?” He turns toward the hug I wrap him in and holds me tight for a minute while Mom and Abbi fuss around and get him meds and a glassof water. It’s too bad he’s not feeling well, but it’s nice to be the one taking care of someone else.
“Pizza?” Abbi asks, once Dad’s gone to bed, standing in front of the nearly empty fridge. “It’ll travel well.”
“Fine with me,” I say, sliding into a chair at the kitchen table and lifting my prizes out of my bag. A tiny stuffed whale, a new set of playing cards featuring different types of sailboats that I slip into the napkin holder, and bright pink jelly shoes I’ll give to Maddy because they’re a little small. “Can we not do one of those heart-healthy ones, though? I’d die for some real pepperoni.”
Abbi shrugs and looks at Mom, who is too tired to argue. My last check-in with Dr.Lee went great. She’s happy with how things are looking with the adjusted medication.
I prepare a bagged salad in a Tupperware bowl with a lid as Abbi heats up the oven. Mom admits there are Oreos hidden in the pantry, and I grab those too, shoving them into the picnic bag along with our travel utensils, waters, seltzers, and a couple of Mom’s mini wines. While the pizza heats up, Abbi and I change, running through several different outfit options to accommodate cuteness as well as potential cold from the wind or humidity. I settle on simple jeans and a white tank top that dips a little lower than Mom approves of and tie an old navy-blue hoodie around my waist. I dab glitter on my eyelids and throw on some star-shaped earrings before putting like eight mosquito-repelling stickers along the hem of my jeans.
I grab the food, Abbi gets the beach chairs and a blanket, and we pile into the car. When we get to Northport Beach, it’salready more than half-full, but Mom’s been texting Paula, and she saved us a spot. She’s gone all out for their picnic, and Oliver and Adam are sitting quietly, devouring deviled eggs, pigs in a blanket, and her famous brownies.
