Page 86 of Saving The Shortstop

“Why isn’t that shithead coming to dinner?” Haven calls back before she heads toward the kitchen. “Hot date?”

I follow behind Cameran and Trent as we all trail into the kitchen where everyone else is. Haven’s mom throws her arm around her daughter, kissing her temple.

“Guess he has to help a friend,” she murmurs, shrugging. “Either way, we will have a good dinner. Right, babe?”

Haven nods, smiling, but again, it’s not her usual smile. “Yeah. Who needs that asshole?”

Anna chuckles, but I’m sure she wishes both her kids were here. Especially when Trent and Cameran’s two daughters, Gracie and Olivia, come from out back, both rushing toward me and Haven, making Noah the only one missing.

This group really is like family. And in a time when Haven needs all the love and support she can get, I’m thankful she has them.

When there’s a knock at the front door, Coach is the first to move.

“I’ll get it. It’s probably Maverick,” he says, keeping his voice low.

Haven’s eyes widen in shock, and she whirls toward her mom as her dad walks out of the kitchen and toward the front door.

“Uncle Maverick is coming? To dinner tonight?” Haven practically gasps. “When did this happen?”

With potholders in her hands, she walks toward the oven and shrugs. “Dad and Maverick were trying to work on things. I think everything that’s happened in the past few weeks was the push they needed.” She smiles, tilting her head to the side. “The nudge that … family matters. People matter. So, he asked him to dinner, and surprisingly, he said yes.”

It takes Haven a second to digest that because for her entire life, her uncle and father have had a strained relationship. And that tension goes back to before Haven was even born.

But Coach is right. Family and people, they matter. And that’s something I’m figuring out more each day.

HAVEN

After dinner has been served and everyone is stuffed with my mom’s cooking, I sit back and try to keep my mind in the present. I didn’t eat much. Since everything that happened with Tabor, I feel nervous a lot of the time, and that nervousness makes my appetite almost non-existent.

“Haven, mind if I steal you for a moment?” Cameran says sweetly, and when I nod, she sets her napkin on her plate before pushing her chair back.

As I follow her out of the kitchen, she glances over her shoulder. “Want to talk in the living room?”

“Sure,” I say, wondering what this could be about. I’m sure she’s just seeing if I’m all right, but to be honest, I didn’t really want to talk about it all tonight. I wanted tonight to just be a normal one, even though that seems impossible now.

She takes a seat on the couch, tucking her legs behind her, and I do the same. Aunt Cameran has this way about her where even just being in her presence makes you feel a little better. Trent is the hard to her soft, although, to me and the other kids in his life, he’s really a big softy.

“First off, let me just say … it’s about time you and D stopped fighting how you’ve both felt since you were kids,” she says, smiling. Reaching forward, she brushes a piece of my hair from my face. “Second, how are you doing?”

“I’m good,” I say instantly because the thing about me, I’ve always preferred to be the one who’s all right. I don’t want to make a big deal out of things—even things like being held hostage.

She gives me a knowing look before she nods. “Yeah, I said that too after my ex showed up in the middle of the night with a knife.”

My eyes fly to hers. “What?”

She takes my hands in hers. “You can say you’re fine all you want, Have, but you can’t go through what you did and not carry it with you.” She smiles sadly. “I know, because I’ve been there.”

I’ve always known that Cameran had a past with an ex who was abusive to her. She came to NE University to get away from him and ended up meeting Trent. Then she started a nonprofit years ago to help domestic abuse victims. What I didn’t know was that he came back for her and held her at knifepoint.

“I didn’t …” I whisper, pausing. “You never told me that before.”

“I might advocate for domestic abuse victims, but I don’t talk much about that particular night too often. Not because I haven’t healed from it—I have. It’s more because I’ve let that night go.” She cocks her head to the side. “But for a long, long time, it was something that haunted me. And I tried to shove it down because I thought that would make everything better.” Tears cloud her eyes. “Turns out, silence only feeds that sort of monster. So, I need you to promise me that you’ll talk to someone when it all gets to be too much.” She drops one of my hands and tips my chin up. “I know that you are your momma’s child. I know that you don’t like making a big deal of things, and you like to look on the bright side. I love that about you, just like I love that about your mom,” she whispers. “But sometimes, it’s okay not to be okay. Sometimes, it’s okay not to be happy and shiny.”

My eyes fill with tears. For the first time since the incident, I don’t feel numb; I feel sad.

“I feel bad that I made someone hurt that much,” I admit, looking away because I’m embarrassed that out of all the things, that’s my concern. “I feel bad that, because of whatever he saw in me, he’s in a mental hospital now and will be for a long time.”

Her hand cups my cheek, and she nods slowly as tears pool in her eyes. “I know,” she says softly. “And for a long, long time, I felt bad that because of me, someone is dead. Your attacker is going to get the chance to get better though.” Her eyebrows pull together. “And Haven, I need you to hear me when I say this. We are survivors. And none of what happened to us was our fault.”