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Chance
I’d been on edge all weekend. Even going to the cages and taking extra hitting practice hadn’t helped. I tried yoga, meditation, and even Pilates—that shit was awful—but nothing kept my mind from the upcoming dinner or the fact that I had Danika’s number in my phone, but I felt like I wasn’t allowed to use it.
I stared at her number at least a hundred times, tempted to send her a message but never did.
It. Was. Torture.
Knowing that Danika was only a simple text away but refusing to give in.
What if she was with her boyfriend when I reached out? I wouldn’t be able to handle that. Knowing that he was with her when I wasn’t. Touching her when I couldn’t.
My dad didn’t help matters when he cornered me after practice. “Heard you’re bringing a girl home for dinner.”
I glanced around, making sure none of my teammates were in a position to overhear our conversation. The only person who knew that Danika was going home with me was Mac, and I knew he’d never tell anyone else.
“It’s not a girl, Dad. It’s my tutor.”
“Your mom thinks it’s more. She’s got Jacey all riled up.”
“What? Please make her stop, or I won’t come.” I dropped my catcher’s helmet to the ground.
My dad stiffened. “You wouldn’t dare disappoint your mom like that. Would you?”
I gave him a look before huffing out, “No.”
“I’m just kidding about your mom and sister.”
I punched his arm. “Why would you do that to me?”
He laughed. “ ’Cause you should have seen the look on your face. I couldn’t resist.”
“Don’t make this a thing.”
“Is it a thing?”
“She has a boyfriend.”
“Minor detail.” My dad grinned, and I shook my head.
“Dad.”
“What?” He shrugged before taking his ball cap off and putting it on backward. “Is her boyfriend on the team?”
I quickly spat out, “No,” like the idea of poaching a teammate’s girlfriend made me physically ill or something. “I’m not Logan,” I said, referencing my ex-teammate who had tried to take another teammate’s girl last season. It was a complete shitshow and could have torn us all apart. Thank God it hadn’t.
“Like I said then”—he paused, and I had no idea if he was joking or not—“minor detail.”
“That’s not cool.” I shook my head.
“I’m just messing around, Chance. It’s the first time a girl’s gotten under your skin.”
“She’s not under my ...” I started to argue, but he gave me a look that told me he knew better, and I shut up instead.
My dad turned to walk off the field when I realized that my entire body was locked up tight with tension.
“Dad, wait.”
He stopped and turned to face me.
“No one else will be there, right? Mom’s not having the whole family there or anything?” I asked because if my Uncle Dean, Aunt Melissa, Gran, and Gramps were there, it would be way too much. Danika would tell me to turn around and take her right back home the second we walked through the front door.
“No. It’s just us, kid.”
“Okay. See you Sunday.”
I’d continued spending my time staring at Danika’s number in my cell phone, looking for an excuse to text her. I knew that once I opened that door, there would be no closing it, and I wanted to be better than that, so I held out. No matter how badly I’d wanted to shoot her a message, I had waited and sent my first text when I was heading over to pick her up.
She responded right away.
DANIKA: Who is this? I don’t have this number in my phone.
CHANCE: Very funny.
DANIKA: I thought so. <smiley face>
CHANCE: Be there in 10.
DANIKA: I’ll be out front.
CHANCE: In all black, I bet.
DANIKA: I do own other colors, you know.
CHANCE: Actually, I don’t know.
DANIKA: Well, now, you do.
I’d learned two things in that brief exchange. One: Danika owned something other than black, although I still doubted it. And two: she didn’t want me to come inside her apartment. It was probably for the best, but it still somehow felt like a slap in the face. Even though I tried not to take it personally, when I navigated my dad’s old Bronco into the parking lot and saw her waiting for me on the sidewalk—in all black, mind you—I felt a pang of disappointment rip through me.
This isn’t a date, I reminded myself.
It was supposed to help, but it only seemed to make it worse. In this moment, I realized that I wanted this to be a date.
Pulling myself together, I slowed to a stop next to her. “Nice outfit,” I said, looking at her off-the-shoulder black top, which revealed black bra straps underneath. Her black ripped jeans and dirty black combat boots finished off the ensemble.
This girl could never put on another color in her life, and I wouldn’t give a shit.
“It’s a New York thing, okay?” She shrugged as she hopped into my truck and tossed her bag to the floor.
“I’ve seen plenty of people in New York wear colors other than black,” I argued, but honestly, I couldn’t remember. I’d never paid attention to what people were wearing when I was there. I was too busy being caught up in the cool buildings and hanging out at the baseball stadium, meeting the players. New Yorkers’ attire had been the last thing on my mind.
“They might. I don’t.” She was unapologetic. And she had nothing to be sorry for.
“Hey.” I nudged her arm with my shoulder. “For the record, I always think you look beautiful.”
“Don’t say that,” she said, her normally olive skin tone turning crimson. She liked the compliment, but it also made her uncomfortable.
“I mean it though. You really do,” I pushed, and she squirmed as she buckled her seat belt. “Thanks for coming with me tonight,” I said before putting the car in gear and pulling away.
She never responded, and I turned the radio up.
More than ten minutes passed before Danika reached for the volume control on my stereo and turned it down. Normally, I would slap anyone’s hand who dared to touch my shit but not her. Never her. She could do whatever she wanted, and it didn’t even bother me.
Why did this girl affect me so much? And why couldn’t I control the way I felt when it came to her?
“Is there anything I should know?” she asked, her attention completely focused on me.
“About?” I gave her a quick glance before I refocused on the freeway.
“Your family. Like a heads-up about anything? Are they going to try to embarrass you or me? And who all is going to be there?”
“It’s just my mom, dad, and little sister, Jacey. I’ve never brought anyone home, so I have no idea how they’ll act, but they aren’t the embarrassing type,” I said and prayed to God that it was true.
My dad had given me a lot of crap the other day, but that was the first time that had happened.
“You’ve never brought a girl home before?”
“I mean, once in high school, but I’d known her since I was five, so she wasn’t a stranger.”
“Were you dating?”
“Yeah,” I answered, and Danika looked away. She stared out the passenger window for a little too long. “Did I say something wrong?” It felt like she was upset.
She turned back toward me. “No. How old is Jacey?”
“Fifteen, going on twenty. Her sole mission in life is to give me a heart attack, so if anyone is going to be embarrassing, it’ll be her.”
Danika laughed. “That’s funny. I wish I had a sister.”
“You can have mine.”
“She might like me better than you, and then you’ll be sorry,” Danika said with a smile, and I could tell she was starting to relax, maybe even looking forward to tonight.
“Can I ask you something?” I said, knowing I was about to ruin the mood as I pulled off the freeway and took the exit.
“You know you can.”
“Did you tell Jared you were coming home with me?”
Her relaxed demeanor instantly changed, and I watched as she swallowed hard. “No.”
My hands gripped the steering wheel even tighter as I asked, “You didn’t?”
“I didn’t.”
“So then, what happens if he texts or calls?” I started to get concerned because even though this wasn’t a date, I wanted Danika peacefully to myself tonight, and the fact that Jared had no idea where she was could potentially cause a lot of drama. “Won’t he want to see you? If I were your boyfriend, I’d want to see you,” I added in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I’ll just tell him that I had an extra session with you because you have your first test tomorrow. Which isn’t a lie.”
“Danika,” I started to say.
“I know, okay?” She sounded flustered and upset with herself as she turned toward the passenger window again. “I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell him?” I asked, realizing that I had no idea what their relationship was like. I had always assumed she was happy. I’d refused to let myself think otherwise.
“Because he would have told me I couldn’t come. We would have gotten into a huge fight, and it seemed easier not to tell him,” she admitted before adding, “I know it’s wrong. I know I should have let him know, but I didn’t want to.”
Even though I had very little experience with relationships, I knew that this was a slippery slope of sorts. Part of me loved the fact that she hadn’t told him because if she had, he would have guilted her into not coming home with me, and I wanted her here. I was glad she had come. But the rest of me knew that this was dangerous ground we were on, and if we weren’t careful, it could all come crashing down around us.
We pulled up to the privacy gates in my neighborhood, and I rolled down my window to punch in the code. The gates swung open, and Danika’s eyes lit up.
“This is a beautiful neighborhood,” she said, her head swiveling to each side of the street to look around. “Oh, I love the style and the landscaping. It’s so green here.”
“Yeah, it’s really beautiful,” I agreed because it was.
Growing up on the Newport Coast had been a dream.
I turned right, then left, and made another right before pulling into our driveway and shutting off the engine.
“Stay,” I said before hopping out and going to the passenger side.
I opened her door and extended my hand as she reached for her bag that I knew were filled with torturous study materials for later.
“I can open my own door, Hotshot.”
“I know you can, Spitfire. I just don’t think you should.” I helped her out before shutting the door behind her.
“Oh no. I didn’t bring anything for your mom. My mom would be horrified that I showed up empty-handed.”
“Danika, it’s okay. My mom won’t be offended. She’s going to love you.” I offered her a smile, but she frowned in response.
“It’s not about that, Chance. It’s just basic manners. You don’t show up for dinner at someone’s house without flowers or a bottle of wine or dessert or something.”
“Well, it’s too late now. Come on.”
I reached for her hand and pulled her without even thinking. She jerked her fingers from my grip, and I looked at her apologetically. I hadn’t truly meant to do that. It had come so naturally. Instinctual, I guessed before mentally beating myself up for it.
“We’re home,” I yelled as we burst through the front door and into the oversize foyer.
“Chance!” my mom shouted from somewhere.
“We? I hope you brought me someone hot to look at.” Jacey’s voice filled the air.
Danika stifled a laugh while she looked around. Natural light filled every inch of the space, and I knew that all the blinds were up, so the ocean view would be on full display.
“That’s my little sister. She’ll be momentarily sad you aren’t a guy.”
“I’ll win her over,” Danika said with a smile, and I knew that she would.
I led us toward the kitchen. Danika followed a few steps behind, and I knew she was looking at the framed pictures that lined the walls. There were pictures of us as a family throughout the years, photographs my mom had taken of me playing baseball and Jacey dancing. There were pictures of my dad playing during his prime years on the Mets, coupled with ones of him coaching at Fullton State now. For as elaborate as our house was, it still felt homey, and I loved that the most. My mom could take anything and make it feel warm and welcoming.
“There you are,” I said as we reached the kitchen.
My mom was bent over the cutting board, chopping at something.
“Hi, honey.” She turned around, her green eyes bright and her long blonde hair up in a bun on top of her head.
I gave her a hug before she focused her attention on Danika.
“Mom, this is Danika. My tutor. Danika, this is my mom, Cassie.”
Danika reached out her hand. “Mrs. Carter,” she said, and my mom waved her away.
“Call me Cassie. And come here,” she said before pulling Danika into a hug. “Sorry. I’m a hugger, not a hand-shaker.”
“Well, I’m sorry I came empty-handed. I’m not usually so rude,” Danika said, and my mom laughed.
“Oh, honey, that’s not rude. You’re fine. We invited you,” my mom said sweetly.
“More like forced,” I said with a choke, and my mom swatted my shoulder. “What? Tell me it’s not true!” I argued.
“Well, can you blame me?” my mom asked.
Jacey strode into the kitchen, a sucker in her mouth.
“I can,” she said before looking Danika up and down. “You’re not a hot guy.”
“Told you,” I said, shaking my head.
“Nope. I’m better,” Danika added, and Jacey giggled. “Guys are dumb. And nothing but trouble. And super bossy.”
“So, you’ve met my brother then.” She tossed the sucker in the trash can.
“Jacey,” my mom tried to chastise, but she and my dad had raised us on sarcasm, so they couldn’t get mad about it.
“Oh, Mom, you know I’m only kidding,” Jacey defended before looking at me. “Kind of.”
“Can we go now? We showed up, said hello. I really need to study,” I joked, and my mom’s face dropped.
“No. I’ll lock Jacey in her room all night. Please stay.”
“I’m standing right here,” Jacey whined with an annoyed expression on her face.
“It’s not always like this,” my dad said as he stepped into the kitchen, looking larger than life. “Who am I kidding? Yeah, it is.”
“Danika, this is my dad, Jack,” I said as my dad walked immediately over to my mother and gave her a kiss before whispering something in her ear that made her blush.
Dammit. I had forgotten to warn Danika that my parents were still disgustingly in love and not afraid to show it. And I probably should have told her about their weird quarter fetish in case my dad started dropping fifty cents in my mom’s hands all night.
Danika looked unfazed by my parents’ affection but also seemed a little starstruck in a way. I hated it until I remembered that her dad was a huge fan.
“Didn’t you say that your dad was a fan?”
Her expression shifted, and she looked slightly embarrassed that I’d called her out. “Yeah, he is. And I can’t believe I’m even asking you this because it’s so wildly inappropriate, but—” she started to ask, but my mom cut her off.
“Danika, what did you say your last name was?” My mom cocked her head to the side. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. It’s just that you look so familiar, and you’re obviously from New York, am I right?”
“I am, yes. And my last name is Marchetti.”
My mom’s jaw dropped open as she narrowed her eyes. “As in Ralph and Cecilia Marchetti?”
Danika’s face lit up. I’d never seen her look so happy before. How in the hell did my mom know Danika’s parents?
“You ... you know my parents?”
“Actually, I do.” My mom smiled. “How are they? How’s your mother?”
Danika’s face fell just as quickly. “She passed away a few years back.”
“I didn’t know that,” I whispered toward Danika, and she turned to look at me.
“I know. It’s okay,” she whispered back, reaching for my hand and squeezing it before letting go.
My mom stepped out of my dad’s arms and toward Danika. She reached for her and pulled her into another hug. “I’m so sorry. She was a really great woman.”
“She was sick for a long time.” Danika focused on the floor before looking back up and meeting my mom’s watchful gaze.
“Jack, honey.” My mom turned toward my dad, who was picking at whatever was in the bowl and tossing it in his mouth. “You remember Ralph and Cecilia? Real estate Ralph.”
My dad grinned. “Ralph? Oh, man. That’s your dad?”
Danika smiled as she pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat. “He is.”
I moved to stand next to her, wanting to be there for support or needing to be near her—I wasn’t sure which.
“Damn. He gave me so much shit about being on the Mets. Would always say, ‘Why can’t you be a Yankee, Carter? Why you gotta make me root for the Mets?’ ” my dad said, mimicking a really bad New York accent, but it made Danika laugh.
“I told you!” She instantly looked at me. “I told you that your dad was the only Met my dad liked.”
“You did tell me that,” I agreed, feeling a weird mixture of emotion and pride welling up inside of me.
“He really is a big fan of yours,” she said, and my dad kept smiling. “Even still.”
“We’ll have to take some selfies and send them to him.”
Jacey snorted, and I’d forgotten that she was there. “Dad, you sound so dumb when you say selfie.”
“Why? That’s what they’re called, right? Your mom and I take selfies all the time.”
“Stop!” Jacey pleaded as she covered her ears before yelling out loud, “I refuse to listen to this. I’ll be back.” She dismissed herself and left the kitchen.
“Can I ask how you knew my parents?” Danika’s voice was softer than usual, and the energy in the kitchen completely morphed into something I couldn’t quite name.
My mom cleared her throat. “When we lived in New York, I used to work for a magazine, and we did feature spreads on the local entrepreneurs and their businesses. I’m pretty sure we featured your dad for his up-and-coming real estate company.”
Danika nodded, like she knew exactly what my mom was referring to. “Did you write the article?”
“No, no. I took the pictures. I’m a photographer.”
“Was my mom there that day?”
“She was.”
“This is crazy, but did you take pictures of them together? Do you remember?” Danika’s face was intense.
“I think I did. I remember your mom was staring out the window, and I think I took a couple of candid shots of her. She was so beautiful, and the light was so perfect.”
“Oh my God. My dad has a framed picture of her alone and another one of them together from that day in his office at home. I never knew where they had come from, never even asked, but I think they came from you.” Danika’s voice broke and took a piece of my heart with it.
What are the odds that this girl would be connected to my family in this way? Hell, in any way? It was like a Christmas gift, and it was nowhere near December.
“This is incredible. Who would have ever thought?” My mom shook her head as she moved back toward the dish she had been working on and made my dad stop picking at it.
“Do you guys still have your place there? In New York?” Danika asked.
My dad answered, “We do. It’s in Sutton Place. We could never give it up. Too many memories.”
He looked back at my mom, and she practically melted on the kitchen floor.
“And plus, I love that apartment,” my mom added, clearly lost in memories.
“I forgot to warn you that my parents are super gross and in love,” I groaned.
“Figured that one out all on my own, Hotshot, but thanks.”
“Do you miss New York?” Jacey’s voice asked.
I hadn’t even heard her come back into the kitchen. Or knowing her supersonic hearing, which I’d also forgotten to warn Danika about, she’d probably overheard everything from a mile away.
“I do. But I know I’ll be back there after graduation,” she said, and my heart felt like it had been dropkicked.
Danika had her whole life planned out after she graduated. She was going to move back home. Most likely with her stupid boyfriend, Jared. A boyfriend who didn’t know where she was right now.
“I’ve only been there a few times, but I really like it there. It’s so cool.” My little sister sounded wistful.
Danika agreed, “It is cool. There’s nothing else like it. Just like there’s nothing else like Southern California. I love it here, but it’s completely different from the city.”
“I think I’d like to live there,” Jacey announced with certainty, and I choked, hitting my chest with my hand.
“Oh yeah?” I asked my little sister.
“Maybe I’ll just go to college there. What do you think, Mom?”
My mom looked at her, no concern or worry in her expression at all. “We’ll see how you feel when the time comes. You might change your mind.”
“Why do you want to leave me, Jacey Bear? New York is so far away,” my dad whined, and I coughed out an insult.
“Oh, Dad. Don’t be so dramatic.” Jacey rolled her eyes.
Danika glanced up at me, her eyes filled with emotion. It took all my willpower not to wrap her in my arms and hold on for dear life.
