Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Anyway, the woman today, her name is Layla (in case you want to secretly hate her in the afterlife), and she made me think. She said her family is pushing her to move on and date. I hope my mom never pushes me to move on, but I fear she will even though she never did after my dad died. I guess I’m struggling with figuring out my new normal.
If it weren’t for Reagan, I would have gone with you. I would have left this life. But you knew that, didn’t you?
What am I even doing? Writing to you as if your spirit is looking over my shoulder reading this. I need something. I need direction. I keep looking over my shoulder for you, but you’re not there. You’ll never be there again.
I need my friend. I need “a” friend.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
A week later, I meet Sean and Katy at Reagan’s T-ball game. While grabbing a drink at the concession stand, someone taps me on the back.
I glance over my shoulder. “Oh, hey, Layla. Nora have a game today too?”
“No, I just like the popcorn at the concession stand.” She slides her fingers into the back pockets of her shorts.
I grin. “Sorry. Stupid question.”
She gestures with a head tilt to the right. “On that field. They’re just warming up. You?”
“Same. No game. I just come for the overpriced sports drinks. The blue one is my favorite.”
Layla snorts. “The blue is the best.”
“Hi. What can I get you?” the volunteer parent behind the counter asks.
“Two blue sports drinks and a popcorn,” Layla jumps in and says.
Before I can protest, she throws down a twenty and winks at me. “Let me buy you a drink. It’s the least I can do after vomiting my life’s tragedies on you last weekend.”
I take the blue sports drink and twist off the cap. “It’s unnecessary but thank you.”
“My pleasure.” She takes her change, popcorn, and the blue drink. “Besides, now I can tell my family that I bought a guy a drink, and it will get them off my back for a bit.”
I laugh a little because it’s a joke. Right? She’s not flirting with me. She said she doesn’t think she’ll move on from her husband. And I’m not moving on from Josie … probably ever.
“Listen, the pools not in yet, but Nora has been asking to have Reagan over to play. I guess they really bonded over ice cream. Would Reagan like to go with us to the children’s museum? I get free tickets.”
“Free tickets, huh?” I sip my drink.
“Yes. I work there. I’m their information technology manager.”
I nod. “Okay. I’m going to pretend that I know what that means.”
She laughs. “Think computer geek and just leave it at that.”
“Got it. Well, I’m sure she’d love to go, but I’ll need to check with her mom.”
“Great. You’ve got my number. Just shoot me a text after the game.”
“Okay. Well…” I nod toward Reagan’s field “…I’d better get back before I miss her home run.”
“Oh definitely. Bye, Colten.” She winks at me again.
Winks.
That’s flirting. Right? Or am I reading into it? She’s still grieving the loss of her husband. And she knows it’s only been five months since Josie died. Yeah, I’m reading into it.
“Reagan made a friend last week. I saw her mom at the concession stand. She invited Reagan to the children’s museum after the game. I said I’d check with you and text her,” I say to Katy, taking a seat on the bench.
“I’m sure she’d love that,” Katy says. “What do you know about her parents? Are we comfortable with them taking our daughter to the museum?”
“It’s just the mom. Her husband died last summer. She works at the museum.”
“Oh, she’s a widow. Is she nice?”
I watch Reagan staring at the sky in the outfield instead of paying attention the game. “What does ‘oh, she’s a widow’ mean?”
“Nothing. Does she know you’re single?”
“Yes. She invited Reagan to play with Nora. She didn’t ask me on a date.”
“I know, but everything has a beginning.”
“I’m not beginning anything. And neither is she.”
“Katy, it’s a playdate,” Sean says.
I like Sean. Always have. He’s a no-nonsense kind of guy. Works long hours in construction. Adores my daughter. But doesn’t act pussy whipped by his wife.
“I’m just saying, you’re quickly going to find that Reagan is … for lack of a better term … a chick magnet. She’ll make lots of friends who have single moms. And single moms love single dads, especially widowers who work in law enforcement.”
“Jesus Christ …” Sean mumbles. “Let the guy properly grieve and figure out his own shit in his own time.”
I nod. “Yes, what he said.”
Katy nudges Sean’s shin with her foot. “Stop. I’m just helping him out, so he doesn’t get into a sticky situation.”
“He’s a homicide detective. I think he’s good in sticky situations.”