Hector (Season One: The Ninth Inning #3) by Lindsay Paige, Mary Smith Page B

around me, I know what I’m going to paint.

 
     
    IT’S BEEN A few days since I’ve had the chance to see Zoey. Between games, practices, and things ramping up with the end of the season on the horizon, it’s been hard to do much more than come home and collapse onto my bed. Today, I hope to see her. I’m in the kitchen doing something rather rare for me; I’m cooking.
    I grab my phone, hoping I’m not cooking for nothing. After finding her contact, I call her and wait for her to answer.
    “Hello?”
    “Hey,” I smile. “Please make me the happiest person on earth by telling me you aren’t working tonight and will come over for dinner. So, am I going to be happy or will I have to cry myself to sleep?”
    She’s quiet for a moment, probably so I’ll be on the edge of my seat waiting for an answer. “I can come over. What time?”
    “As soon as you can get into the car. I’ve already started cooking.”
    “I’ll be there shortly, then.”
    We hang up and I place my phone off to the side on the counter. A smile is stuck on my face. Even though I had to suffer through the horrible idea of fun called skydiving, Carissa is a huge fan of Zoey’s, as am I. I’m always pretty happy, but when Zoey’s around, I’m practically overflowing with it. Dinner is close to being done before she finally knocks on my door.
    “Come in!” I shout, pulling some rolls out of the oven. I hear the door open and shut and turn around just in time to see her coming into the kitchen.
    “Something smells mouthwatering.”
    “I hope so. I don’t cook actual meals often. How does pork chops and mixed vegetables sound? Oh, and rolls.”
    “Well, it sounds fatty and delicious. What’s the occasion?”
    “I missed you, but I’m also feeling a little lazy, so I didn’t want to go anywhere for dinner.”
    “I missed you too. Are you always this busy toward the end?”
    “Yeah, pretty much. It’ll get even more so the closer it gets.” I grab some plates and silverware, loading them up with food. “Want to fix some drinks?”
    “Sure. What do you have?”
    “Water and beer. I might have some tea bags if you want that.”
    “I thought you meant there was a full bar hiding somewhere.” She laughs. “Beer is good.”
    I chuckle. “Nope.” She grabs the beers while I take our plates to the table. A moment later, we’re seated and digging in. “How’s your day been?”
    “Good. I finished a painting.”
    “What of this time? How do you decide what to paint anyway? Could I watch you one time?” I spill all the questions on the tip of my tongue.
    “Um, I’m not going to tell you about it. Mainly because I actually like it. When I’m done with it, I’ll show you. Why would you want to watch me paint? It’s probably boring for you.”
    “You’ve seen me play and you enjoyed it. I’m positive it would be anything but boring. Why do you like it? What makes this particular piece something better than crap on a cracker?”
    “It’s something I’ve never done before. I don’t know why this one is special, it just is.” She shrugs, taking a bite of the meat.
    “And you’re sure you don’t want to tell me what it is? I’m even more curious about it now.” I’m already itching to see it.
    “No. Not yet. Soon, I will show you. I promise, okay?”
    “Okay, I can be happy with that. Thanks again for taking Carissa to the airport for me. I’m pretty sure she’ll visit more often just to hang out with you.”
    Zoey smiles. “I had a blast with her, and it wasn’t a big deal to take her to the airport. We had a good talk along the way.” The touch of sadness in her voice confuses and worries me. Carissa told me about their little talk and honestly, I’ve been worried about it. My mom’s a hard pill to swallow, even without meeting her, and I worry Zoey will go running.
    “Sure it was good? She said she brought up my mom.”
    “She did.” Zoey pushes the veggies around with anxiety keeping her gaze down