Page 74 of The Curveball
True enough, Dax Sage helps set up folding chairs. I expect him here, to be honest. Dax knows our families and feels a degree of comfort around our people. Put him in big social settings with new faces, he’s not thrilled.
The best part of it all has to be the way my mom laughs with a curvy woman at the table. The woman has auburn hair cut short, and a smile so much like her daughter it’s like Wren is her clone.
There’s no way that’s not Wren’s mom, and it looks like she’s best friends with Giana Marks already.
Beside Wren’s mom another woman holds a skinny boy on her lap. She looks like she belongs with our side of the family. Her skin is sun-toasted, with dark hair, and dark eyes. Next to her is a bulky guy with a killer mustache who keeps sneaking the little boy M&Ms.
“I see you, Mat.” Darren’s voice breaks. Wren’s brother steps out of the back of the bakery with another little boy on his hip.
“You see nothing,” the guy says in a thick Spanish accent.
“That’s Cleo and Mateo,” Wren whispers.
I nod, then use my chin to gesture at our moms. “Looks like they’re friends already.”
Wren smiles like she’s never seen anything better. “Looks like it.”
“Hey, there you are.” Carter rises from his seat.
For at least three seconds the entire crowd falls into a hush. The kind of quiet that screams in the ears and makes you want to disappear because every eye is locked on you. I’m accustomed to scrutiny, but this is a new level. The people who are most important to us drink every inch of us up. From the tight grip we have on each other’s hands, to the nearness of our shoulders.
Then, it all breaks.
A deafening explosion of people tug, pull, and yank us toward the center of the backyard. Wren is ripped away from me and thrown into introductions with my mom andzia.
“You are stunning,” my mom says, giving her a chokehold hug. “You and your mom are twins. It’s so good to finally meet you.”
“So good to meet you, Mrs. Marks,” Wren says in her soft mousy voice. Her nervous voice. She’s bold and sure with me, and I take a bit of pride with that.
“Oh, you can call me Giana. Or Gi-Gi. Or whatever you want.” My mom squeezes her again. “I’m just so glad you’re here and haven’t killed my son yet.”
“Ma, you’re supposed to talk me up,” I say, coming to her side and pulling her against me in a hug.
My mom pats my face, laughing.
Wren looks at me shyly and links her arm with her mom. “Griff, this is my mom, Lucy.”
Unlike my mom, Wren’s does take a moment to study me with a touch of skepticism. I can handle skepticism. I hold out my hand and shake Lucy’s. “It’s great to meet you.”
“You as well,” Lucy says. “So, you’re the catcher on the team?”
“For now. Wren likes to tell me my knees are elderly.”
Wren’s mom gives her a wink, then smiles at me. “Well, let’s hope she’s wrong. It’s so fun watching you at the plate.”
“Mom,” Wren warns under her breath. “You promised.”
“What?” I smile.
Wren grips my arm and nestles against my side. “Nothing. Trust me, you don’t want this to get awkward.”
“She’s right,” Lucy says. “When you’ve known us a little longer, then we’ll make sure we leave you feeling uncomfortable every time you visit.”
I laugh. “Looking forward to it.”
A few minutes later, my uncle calls us all to our seats, insisting if we don’t start eating he’ll waste away. He’s probably two-sixty and not quite six feet, but Enzo says it every time he thinks there’s too much chatter and not enough eating.
Wren takes the spot between me and her mom. The moment I sit down, her hand falls to my leg, and it’s a new thrill I didn’t know I needed. Good thing she knows I’m chained to her in all truth now. If she didn’t, keeping my hands to myself tonight would be a lot harder.