“Grandpa, are you okay?” Tessa asked nervously as Dad sank into his chair at the foot of the table.
“Yes,” he answered, forearms resting on the table, his forehead deeply lined. “Why?”
“Because you look . . . sad,” Tessa said, her voice dropping to a whisper.
Dad held his granddaughter’s gaze. “I miss your grandma,” he said bluntly. “And I feel like I’m letting her down. She wouldn’t tolerate this kind of nonsense. Not from any of you.”
Everyone looked in different directions, the sense of unease growing.
“Grandpa, no offense,” Gabi said, speaking up to break the weighty silence. “But everybody did fight around Grandma.”
“Gabriela!” Meg choked, mortified.
Gabi shrugged and reached for her water glass. “They did,” she insisted, her gaze sweeping around the table. “But Grandma just didn’t let it freak her out so much.”
For a moment Sarah wasn’t sure if her dad was going to laugh or cry, and then he held his arms out to Gabi. “Come here,” he said.
Without hesitating, Gabriela slipped from her chair and into his arms. Dad tucked her onto his lap, his chin just grazing the top of her head. “Spoken like a true Brennan.” He smiled ruefully at everyone else. “Well said.”
Gabi leaned in, gave him a big squeeze. “So that means we can have cake now, Grandpa?”
His smile turned wry. He had a sense of humor. Had to have one. He’d been raised in a big family, and he himself had raised a big family. “You ready for cake, Gabriela?”
“I am.”
He nodded and set Gabi down on her feet. “Me, too.”
It was almost as if everyone exhaled all at once. You could feel the tension leave the room. Smiling, Kit headed for the kitchen to get the coffee. Meg stood up to cut the cake. Cass handed Meg the cake plates. And Sarah’s phone buzzed with an incoming text.
She glanced down at the phone still clutched in her hands.
I’ve just accepted an offer from the A’s. Happy Mother’s Day, babe. We’re moving to the Bay Area.
“Oh my God,” Sarah whispered, reading the message a second time.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asked, instantly silencing the room.
“It’s Boone,” she said.
“Is he okay? Has there been an accident?”
Kit immediately appeared in the doorway. Everyone else stopped, focused on Sarah.
Sarah shook her head. “No. He’s . . . he’s fine.” She looked down the table at her father. “He . . . uh . . . was released by Tampa Bay.”
“Oh, Sarah, no!” Cass exclaimed.
“That’s terrible,” JJ exclaimed.
“No, no, it’s okay.” Sarah mustered a smile. “He just texted me to say that he’s signed with the Oakland A’s.” She kept smiling to hide her shock and apprehension. “I’m moving home.”
Twelve
Sarah flew back to Tampa late Sunday night, unable to process the fact that she was returning to put her and Boone’s house on the market.
She was returning to move.
Crazy. Crazy how fast things changed.
She’d been married to a professional baseball player for a long time. She knew trades happened. Knew players got cut from the team and injured. Change was part of the business as teams worked hard to stay competitive, but Tampa had become her home. She’d been happy there. The kids had friends. She had friends.
And now it was time to pack up and leave.
Arriving back home, Sarah struggled to wrap her head around the news. She walked around the house, taking in the high ceilings and big heavy beams, the beautiful tiled floor, the stucco walls. It was a Spanish-inspired house, on a cul-de-sac of similar homes, but they were all spacious and luxurious with big yards and large, colorful play structures for kids in the back.
Strange to think that Boone would never return here. He’d never sleep in this house again, or eat dinner at the table, or bump up against her in the kitchen, his lips on her nape, his hand against her breast. And just knowing that Boone was done, gone, changed the place for her.
Although she arrived home late, Sarah was up early to get the kids off to school. She made her coffee extra strong and broke the news that they were moving as she drove the kids to school.
Ella cried.
Brennan appeared indifferent. “That’s fine,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t have many friends here anyway.”
“What about the Neeleys?” Sarah asked, referring to Alyssa and Jeff’s boys. “I thought you were friends with them?”
“That’s different,” he answered. “I do like them.”
Back home, Sarah put in a call to the realtor who had sold them the house four years before. He promised to get the house in the system by the end of the day.