Quarterback Draw Page 72
“That’s right, Mom,” Grant said. “After the game is over, we’re still brothers.”
“I don’t care which of them wins and which of them loses,” Tucker said. “And I never have to play any of them. Lucky for them.”
Grant laughed. “You mean lucky for you, sissy boy. You opted out of the tough game and decided on baseball.”
Tucker leveled one hell of a confident look at Grant. “Oh, is that right? You want to try and hit one of my pitches and see how tough you really are?”
“Anytime.”
Tucker squinted his eyes at Grant. “How about right after dinner?”
“I’ll take you on right after Grant,” Flynn said. “We’ll see who gets their asses kicked.”
Lydia sighed and leaned over to Katrina. “It’s like this all the time when they’re together. It’s always the Cassidy Olympics. Lots of bragging. And a lot of sports being played out in the yard. That’s why there’s a clearing out back behind the garden. They played a lot of sports back there when they were kids.”
Lydia gave each one of them a look. “I thought they’d grow out of it when they became adults. I was wrong.”
In turn, each of the boys gave her a wide smile. “But you can cheer us on, Mom. Free games, right in your backyard.”
She shook her head.
Katrina smiled and scooped up some fruit salad on her fork.
After dinner, everyone helped with the cleanup, so it was done in record time. By then it was dark, so Easton decided the baseball game would have to wait until tomorrow. Instead, they fixed s’mores on the outdoor fire pit, and pulled up chairs to watch the stars, which were amazing with no city lights to distract from the view.
Easton had lit the torches to keep away the mosquitos. It was quiet except for the sounds of nature. Katrina could have sworn she could hear a running stream.
“Is that water running somewhere?”
“Yeah. There’s a creek not too far behind us,” Easton said. “We’ve had a lot of rain this year, so it’s pretty swollen with water. If you open the windows at night, you can hear it.”
“Which reminds me, Tucker, you and Barrett are in the guesthouse,” Lydia said. “I’m putting Leo in your room here.”
“Fine with me.”
“Are you sure that’s okay?” Katrina asked Tucker. “We really don’t want to put you out.”
“Honey, I’ve slept in some of the worst places imaginable when I played in the minor leagues. Wherever Mom wants to put me has a nice bed with a great bathroom and awesome sheets. Trust me, I’m good.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
She went inside to refresh her lemonade. Leo followed her.
“Easton’s taking me fishing in the morning. Like at dawn or something,” he said.
“You did tell him you’ve never fished before, right?” Katrina asked.
“Yeah. He said it’s time I learned.”
Leo sported a wide grin. She could tell he was so excited to spend time with Easton. She grasped his arm. “Have a good time.”
“I will.” He started to walk away, but then stopped. “It’s pretty great here, Kat, isn’t it?”
She smiled at him. “Yes, Leo. It sure is.”
Anya appeared from upstairs.
“I’m hanging out in the room next to Mia’s,” Anya said with a wide grin. “We’re going to watch movies tonight and she’s going to give me some insights on college.”
“Sounds great. If you need anything, text me.”
Anya nodded. “I’m not going to need you. We’re good. Trust me.”
Katrina sighed. Neither Leo nor Anya really needed her for much.
That strange realization kept pummeling her over and over.
Her siblings were growing up, branching out, and needing her less and less.
She refilled her glass and went back outside, pausing on the porch stoop to see Grant laughing with his brothers.
She hadn’t seen him that unguarded before, so at ease with himself. It was truly a sight to behold. Flynn shoved him, then he shoved back, but it wasn’t with malice. There was an ease to him here, a difference to him. He was so affectionate with his mother—and with his father, too. She could tell how much he loved his parents.
She felt a pain of loss so hard and so deep for her mother right then. She missed her so much. It had been so long, but she could still vividly see her mother’s face, smiling and laughing as she’d sit with all of them, read a book, play board games, or just watch television. It could be the simplest of things, a small gesture, like when she’d tuck Katrina’s hair behind her ears. She could still feel her mother’s touch, and she tucked her hair behind her ear, as if she could sense her mother’s presence at that moment.
Those gestures had meant so much to Katrina. She knew how much her mother had loved her.
She wished she could remember the sound of her mother’s voice, but it had been so long, her voice had faded with time. She could still picture her face. She had a few old photos around the apartment and every now and then she’d pull them out and look at them. Photos of her mother with the three kids all together.
The best of times.
She shuddered out a sigh, closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, trying to hold on to that sweet memory, then let it fade up into the night sky.
“I miss you, Mama,” she whispered into the darkness, choking back the tears that threatened before pushing off the top step and heading back to the crowd.