“Yeah,” he says. “Has she ever told you what that’s about?”
“Not explicitly, but I have a feeling it has to do with how you two became a family. I think there’s some residual guilt there. As if she feels at fault for taking you away from the life you were living at the time her mom died.”
Monty nods, keeping his eyes out on the field and not on me. He clears his throat. “Yeah, I’ve had a hunch that’s what was going on. We’ve talked about it, but I don’t think she’s ever truly understood that nothing about our situation was a sacrifice.”
Finding Max and Miller again, I watch as my son lays on her shoulder, delicately tracing the ink where her too-big jersey is hanging off.
“Do you love her?” Monty asks.
“I do. Very much so.”
“She might break your heart.”
“I’ll love her anyway.”
“I know you will.”
“I mean.” I pop my shoulders. “At times, I still think she’s way too fucking much.”
“Right? The things that come out of that girl’s mouth? Who the hell raised her?”
A laugh spreads between us, the emotional moment put on pause as we watch my son and his daughter together.
Monty exhales a contented sigh. “Just know that I loved her first.”
I nod. “And I’ll love her always.”
To the left of me, Kennedy comes bounding up the dugout stairs with none other than Dean Cartwright on her heels. I’d instantly be thrown off if any member of an opposing team walked through our dugout, but Dean of all people? Every one of my senses is on high alert.
I don’t like the guy, but he’s never done anything to me personally. However, he went at my brother for years while we were growing up, and after our mom died, I did everything I could to protect Isaiah.
Dean went to a rival high school and slept with any girl he learned my brother was dating, which gave Isaiah a real fucked-up complex when it came to relationships, never once having a committed partner who didn’t cheat on him. He constantly talked shit to him on the field, and though my brother likes to pretend he’s unaffected, the truth is, to his core, Isaiah is sensitive.
Therefore, I’ve spent years keeping Dean away from him unless we’re playing against Atlanta, as we are this weekend. Anyone who creates an issue with my brother is automatically an issue for me.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” I ask, popping off the dugout railing.
Dean wears the most annoying smirk as he turns my way.
“Game is tomorrow, Cartwright.” Travis steps up. “You’re not welcome here.”
“Yes, he is,” Kennedy says. “What is wrong with you guys? It’s Family Day.”
“Exactly,” Isaiah calls out. “He shouldn’t be here.”
Dean turns on my brother and that annoying smirk morphs into a Cheshire Cat-like grin. Knowing and pompous. He takes a step closer to Kennedy, which has my brother seeing red.
Isaiah takes quick, fluid steps towards the two of them, but I intercept, hands on his chest to keep him back.
“Get the fuck away from her,” he seethes over my shoulder.
Kennedy’s eyes are narrowed in confusion. “Why are you acting like this?”
“Yeah, Isaiah.” Dean slings an arm over Kennedy’s shoulder. “Why are you acting like this?”
“Get your filthy fucking hands off her or I swear to God—”
“Stop acting like a deranged caveman,” Kennedy chastises. “He’s allowed to be here. Dean is my stepbrother. Chill out.”
I swear the entire stadium goes silent at those words. My brother’s body is frozen under my arm as my eyes lock with Miller’s across the way.
“Stepbrother?” Miller asks. “So, your sister is . . .”
“Yes,” Dean agrees. “My sister is the heartless bitch. I’m Team Kennedy, so don’t worry about that.”
Miller’s lips curve into a smile and I’m not positive what that’s all about, but I’m sure she’ll tell me later.
“Kenny,” my brother whines. “Please tell me this is some sick joke.”
“You’re so dramatic. It’s not a joke. Dean’s dad and my mom got married when we were in high school. So be nice. It’s Family Day.”
“Yeah, Isaiah.” Dean shoots my brother a wink. “Be nice. It’s Family Day.”
Chapter 34
Miller
“Are you okay?” I find Isaiah with a bowl of pretzels in his lap, sitting and sulking by himself in the dugout while Family Day continues on the field.