Page 49 of Convincing the Catcher

CANE

Seeing as Haven, Gigi, and I ended up on the same flight to Montana, we decided to share an Uber because that seemed to make the most sense since we’re all headed to the same place.

A funeral.

Harley hasn’t talked to anyone much, if at all. Even her coach hasn’t heard from her, but Haven said that Harley’s mom reached out to the coach and told her that Harley was having a tough time, but she would return back to campus next week, once the funeral was over.

I hope she will. I hope this doesn’t derail her entire school year and season.

The three of us stand on the sidewalk at the airport, waiting for the driver to show up.

“He’s two minutes away,” I utter, looking at my phone. “It’s a black Escalade.”

“Holy high roller,” Haven says with a snicker. “Uber Black, I take it? Nothing but the best for King Hale?”

“Says the daughter of Mason King,” I deadpan, and quickly, her snickers stop.

Haven understands what it’s like to be the child of a professional athlete. And, yeah, I suppose I’m a spoiled brat for always choosing Uber Black, but it’s just what I’ve grown up doing, and old habits die hard.

“My parents are going to freak out when they find out I flew to Montana and missed practice,” Gigi mutters, more so to herself than to us.

“They’ll be fine,” Haven says to Gigi. “Besides, we’re flying right back first thing tomorrow morning, so aside from missing one stinking practice today—which Coach approved, let me remind you—we’ll be back in time for hitting practice.” She stops, glancing at me. “You know, I was kind of surprised to see you at the airport, headed back to Montana.” She raises her brows. “That’s two trips in one week. Are you and Harley like⁠—”

“We’re friends,” I say quickly, cutting her off just as a blacked-out Escalade pulls up to the curb. “Here’s our ride.”

I can’t tell one of Harley’s best friends the truth—the truth being that I’m here because I’m in love with her friend and I had to come back to be here for her, even though she may not want me here. I can’t say any of that.

And I still haven’t figured out what the fuck I’m going to do if being here makes everything worse.

TWENTY-FOUR

CANE

The whole ceremony, I keep my eyes on the back of Harland’s head. I saw her cry, but for the most part, she’s kept it together. She sits beside her mom at the front, but on the other side of their bench are two sets of elderly couples—people I can only assume to be her grandparents—along with a few others who must be family too.

When her friends went and found her before the service to give her a hug, I asked them not to mention I was here. I plan to tell her after, but I didn’t want to make anything worse right before the ceremony began.

“We’re going to finish with a slideshow that was made by some of Daniel’s family,” the pastor says before stepping out of the way, and a lady walks to the computer in the corner of the room.

Moments later, music begins to play, and when Luke Combs’s voice begins to sing “Even Though I’m Leaving,” I don’t think there’s a dry eye in the room, myself included.

This is a song I’ve never been able to listen to because it hurts too much, making me think of my own dad. But when the slideshow begins to play, I know it’s also the perfect song for Harley’s dad.

I wish, more than anything in the world, that she didn’t have to be in this club with me. The one you can only be in if you lose a parent. Because this club? It’s fucking terrible.

Pictures show, and videos play. Some of Harland’s parents, some of her dad with his family or maybe friends, but so, so many of her and her dad. One of him pitching to her on the lawn while she holds a softball bat bigger than she is. Them at the beach, running into the waves. A young Harland in her catching gear, looking up at her father and smiling, her gear dirty from the game she must have just played. He looks down at her with pure adoration.

They loved each other so much. He didn’t have other kids, just Harley.

I wipe my eyes with my sleeve, and Haven pats me on my arm before sniffling.

All of this, it’s bringing back so many feelings of what it was like when my dad died, and it’s much harder than I thought it would be to sit here.

Once it’s over and everyone either shuffles up or forms a line to pay their condolences to Harland and her mom, I’m torn on what to do.

“Come on, Hale,” Haven whispers, squeezing my hand. “I think our friend will be happy to see you.”

I look at her, unsure, but when she smiles at me, giving me a nod, I know either way, I need to at least try to go talk to Harley. Simply to tell her that I’m here if she needs me.