I know, based on her smile—half sympathetic, half bittersweet—that she’s recalling the same conversation I am. Since she’s the one who brought up our past, this time, it feels fair to comment on something I wanted to say earlier.
“You and Cassidy must be getting along, if she is staying with you.”
“Yeah, we are.” She reaches up, yanking the elastic out of her hair and redoing her ponytail. Not really looking at me, but not avoiding either. “My dad’s been coming around more, to see her and to spend time with Tommy. That’s been the hardest part of Cassidy moving back. I feel like an interloper in my own family. I’m the grudge-holder who hasn’t gotten over the past, and it…sucks.” She shakes her head. “I’ll get over it.”
“You mean, forgive him?”
“If I knew how to forgive him, I would have done it a long time ago.”
“You know how to forgive him, Claire. You are just not sure you want to.”
“I guess,” she says softly.
“How is your mom dealing with it?”
Claire blinks rapidly. “What?”
“Your dad being around more. Is your mom…okay with it?”
“Oh. Fine.” She’s closed off all of a sudden, and I’m not sure why. What I said wrong. “Ready?”
She’s already walking away, not waiting for a reply.
I blow out a breath, then follow.
23
CLAIRE
We walk in silence. I’m sweaty, exhausted, and jubilant.
I wondered, when I saw him play in person for the first time, what it would be like to be on a field with Otto Berger. What it would be like to witness that intensity up close, without the barrier of a screen or the distraction of a screaming crowd. I wish I could say the experience was a disappointment.
We reach the top of the path, passing a door that leads inside the practice facility. I wasn’t sure if Otto might be headed inside, but he continues toward the parking lot with me. Meaning he really did show up just to practice with me, and I can’t decide how to feel about that. Coach Taylor asked him to work with me, which is embarrassing and also means this wasn’t his idea. But he never acted like it was an imposition. I caught him smiling a few times while we were playing, and my emotions are mixed about that too. I like being part of his recovery, but I won’t be—soon. He’ll leave, and I’ll stay, and all I’ll be left with are more memories.
The silence between us isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. I’ve hardly said anything to Otto since he asked about my mom, and I know I need to.
“That was…”Fun. Exhilarating. Special.Coming up with the right adjective takes a few seconds. “Helpful,” is what I settle on. Also true, but not nearly as revealing.
“Good,” Otto says.
I risk a glance at him, eyes lingering where his damp shirt clings to his torso. This would be easier if I wasn’t so attracted to him, if he hadn’t told me about his grandfather’s surgery and made me feel like even more of a jerk for my reaction to his New York trip. He was engaged to Juliette. She must know about his strained relationship with his grandfather. He probably had dinner with her to discuss it. Juliette hopefully made him feel better, and I’m a terrible person for resenting that.
“Are you and Will close?”
I wasn’t planning to bring up last night, but I’m curious to know more about his current life.
“You know Aster?” He sounds perplexed, like it didn’t occur to him that I might have recognized who he was with at the restaurant.
“We’ve never met,” I reply. “I just know who he is. He grew up in Dorchester. There was a lot of coverage of his, uh, what happened in Seattle. I saw he got traded to Kluvberg.”
“He is a friend,” Otto tells me. “I should have introduced you.”
“I wasn’t—I didn’t mean it like that,” I say awkwardly. “I was just curious about your… He came to visit you?”
“And his brother. It was Tripp’s birthday.”
“Who was the woman?”
