Rounding Third - Michelle Lynn Page 0,57

can’t control me.” She rushes out of the room, and her footsteps pound up the stairs.

“Will you be leaving us too?” my dad asks.

“No.”

“I just don’t understand why you want to torment yourselves?” He continues to talk to the toaster.

“I have a deal to make with you." the words blurt out before I truly think of repercussions.

"Deal? What sort of deal?" my mom questions and my dad turns around.

I’m sure my dad is way too angry to respond.

“I’ll stay away from Crosby as long as you leave Ariel alone about dating Spencer.”

God, the words “stay away from Crosby” transport me back to after the accident when everyone in this town thought it would be better if we separated and grieved on our own.

“No deal. You both stay away from those Lynch boys.” My dad moves to the fridge, popping the cap off yet another beer bottle.

“I’ll let her see him without you knowing, if that’s what you choose. We’ll hide their relationship, like some kind of unplanned teenage pregnancy. Or you can have one of your daughters away from one of the Lynch boys.” My heart flattens, like a bulldozer rolling it into a pancake.

My parents look at one another, and I keep my back straight to show I mean business.

“Accept Spencer.”

They both release heavy breaths, having a silent conversation with one another, weighing the pros and cons.

“You won’t have anything to do with Crosby then?” My father is the first to turn around, showing he’s contemplating my offer.

“Well, I have to be around him when I’m with the team. I can’t give up the internship. You have my promise though. I won’t date him.”

“Deal.”

“Mark,” my mom sighs.

“Katie, I’d rather one than both. Spencer was always a good kid.” He moves to his seat.

So is Crosby.

My mom gives me a long look and stares down to her plate.

“You have to be nice when she brings him home,” I add.

“Uh-huh,” my dad says, picking up his fork.

The conversation is over.

With a snap of my fingers, a miracle has been made, and the deal is done.

And my heart is obliterated.

Chapter Fourteen

Crosby

I hate this town, and the fact that I decided to show my face again confirms how eager I am to move on with my life.

My fist taps on the wooden door, and a piece of flaking white paint falls to the rotten front porch. Slow and steady footsteps pad toward the door, and my heart races, like I sprinted for third after the second baseman made an error.

Taking deep breaths to make sure oxygen continues to fill my lungs, I wait.

Mrs. Ford glances out the dirty window, and the doorknob turns.

This is the moment I’ve feared most in the past two years. There’s no turning back now. The door opens, and there she stands. Her brown hair is speckled with gray, and her eyes are puffy from what I imagine has been years of crying.

“Mrs. Ford?”

She stares at me, and unless she’s lost her mind, she has to recognize me. I might have gained more muscles over the years, but I look the same.

“Crosby?” she asks. Wetness pools in her eyes.

An enormous second-guess occupies me, and I think this was a horrible idea. Panic says that I should tell her she’s wrong and hightail it out of here.

“Yes, ma’am.” My conscience presents itself.

She’s thinner than I remember, and there’s no joy in her face because I took any happiness away from her.

“Come in.” She steps to the side, opening her house to me, showing how remarkable of a woman she is.

She’s the one who taught Noah to be the best friend anyone could have. Man, he proved his worth a hundred times over.

“Would you like some lemonade or iced tea?” she asks, already moving toward the kitchen.

“I don’t want to cause you any trouble,” I answer, my head down, looking at the worn carpet instead of the pictures that adorn the walls.

“Take a seat, sweetie.” She nods toward the kitchen table.

I sit down, and when I place my arms on the table, it wobbles.

I’m surprised that a town that shamed my family into leaving hasn’t helped this woman in her time of need.

I wad up a piece of napkin and shove it under the leg while she busies herself with pouring two glasses of lemonade. She comes to the table, placing the two glasses down, and then grabs a pouch of cookies. She was always good at making everyone feel at ease in her home.

“What brings you to Beltline, Crosby?” she