Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
“Go, Dad!” Juniper hollers again, and Hattie and I trade amused looks. I give the little girl a high-five, my heart full to bursting.
I’m definitely in deep, I think, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
15
Ripley
I’m so full of adrenaline, I feel like I could run laps around the stadium. We won, and it was a solid victory. My pitches felt strong all night, the team was on fire, and I’m still buzzing from the roaring cheers of the crowd. As I head off the field, wiping sweat from my forehead with the back of my glove, my first thought isn’t about stats or my pitching form—it’s about finding Kali. And, of course, Juniper. Because tonight, she was in the stands too, cheering me on with her little lungs working overtime.
I jog through the dugout, weaving through a few fans who’ve stuck around, offering high-fives and fist bumps. The guys pat me on the shoulder, congratulating me on a good game, but I’m more interested in scanning the seats beyond. Soon enough, I spot Hattie’s ball cap bobbing near the exit. Juniper’s by her side, bouncing on her toes, and Kali stands next to them, smiling so brightly it outshines the stadium lights. My heart does a weird little flip. She’s still wearing one of my team’s caps—she must’ve bought it at the merch stand. The thought that she’s representing me sends a surge of pride through my veins.
I break away from my teammates and head straight for them. Juniper is the first to bound over, throwing her arms around my waist. “Dad! You were so awesome! That last strike you whooshed it right past the batter!”
“Yeah?” I can’t help grinning, ruffling her curls. “Pretty good, right?”
“Pretty great,” Kali chimes in, and her voice makes my stomach flutter. She steps closer, eyes gleaming. “I’d say that was a near-flawless performance, Riptide.”
I arch an eyebrow, playing it off. “Near flawless? So where’d I mess up?”
She laughs, nudging me with her elbow. “I mean, you didn’t do a cartwheel across home plate after the final out, so I guess you missed a showboating opportunity.”
Hattie chuckles, adjusting her hat. “I’m taking off, guys. I’ve gotta get home and work on that project for Monday.” She pats me on the shoulder. “Congrats, big brother.”
“Thanks,” I say, giving her a quick side hug. “Need me to walk you to your car?”
“I’m good,” she says, waving me off. “I parked close. You three have fun.”
We exchange goodbyes, and then it’s just Juniper, Kali, and me standing under the glow of the stadium floodlights. The air is still crackling with post-game energy, but all I can think about is how nice it is to have these two waiting for me. My daughter, and the woman who’s becoming… more.
Juniper tugs on my sleeve, eyes dancing. “Dad, can Kali come over? We could have dinner or something.”
I glance at Kali, trying to gauge her reaction. She looks back at me with a hint of a shy smile, and that’s all the confirmation I need. “Yeah,” I say, nodding. “I was about to invite her anyway.” I turn to Kali. “If you’re free? We can just hang out, get some food.”
Kali’s grin widens. “Sure, I’d love that. I’ll follow you guys in my car?”
“Sounds good,” I say, trying not to sound too eager, but let’s be honest, I’m psyched.
Juniper squeals and does a little twirl, which makes both Kali and me laugh. We walk out of the stadium together, the crowd thinning as fans disperse. In the parking lot, I give Kali a quick wave before Juniper and I climb into my truck. The drive home is filled with my daughter’s nonstop chatter about the game—every strike, every run, every cool moment. I respond with half-focused nods, my mind drifting to thoughts of Kali pulling up behind me in her own car, the memory of her smile and the way she looked at me from the stands.
When we get home, the porch light’s on, and I spot Kali’s headlights coming around the corner. Juniper sprints to unlock the front door, and I stroll back to Kali’s car, opening the driver’s door for her. She steps out, a bit of the leftover summer breeze ruffling her hair.
“Hey,” she says softly, and there’s a moment where we just look at each other—this charged gaze that reminds me of last night. We share a grin, and then Juniper hollers from the front porch, “Come on, I’m hungry!”
Laughing, I usher Kali inside. The three of us kick off our shoes, and I drop my gear bag by the couch. “So,” I say, turning to them, “any preferences for dinner? We could rummage through the fridge—though I’m not sure what we’ve got—or maybe order pizza?”
Juniper bounces on the balls of her feet. “Pizza!” she exclaims, like it’s the greatest invention known to man. “Please?”