Page 8

“Yep.” I popped the P.

“Show me,” Liv demanded.

I turned so she could spot the bald patch at the back of my head, and when I turned back, she was covering her mouth, holding back laughter.

“Well now I see who’s side you’re on,” I retorted, taking another drink.

She pressed her lips together, but they peeled open with her smile. “Sorry. What happened?”

“I went into the salon to see her, and I had to get a haircut because I couldn’t just show up.”

“Brave choice,” Fletcher said. “How did you know she’d be there?”

I jerked my thumb at Liv. “She told me last Wednesday that Mags was coming back to town, so I called Rhonda and made an appointment.”

“That worked out real well,” Fletcher deadpanned.

I sent him a look, and he looked away to hide his laugh.

Liv said, “So she gave you a haircut, and then what?”

“I asked her out to eat, and she said no.”

The two of them exchanged looks. It was annoying seeing my best friend do that with my sister, communicating without words. “What?” I asked.

Liv said, “Well... that’s it?”

“What the hell else was I supposed to do?”

She laughed. “If you think Mags is going to go out with you just because you surprised her at work after fourteen years apart and then asked her to dinner one time, you’re off your game.”

I scrubbed my chin. Maybe she had a point. I could put in a little more effort, show her that I was ready to do things differently this time...

“While you think about that…” Fletcher said like there was more to his sentence.

I raised my eyebrows. “Need help on the grill?”

“Actually... Maya has a question for you.” He waved over his daughter. “Come ask Uncle Rhett.”

Suspicious, I pinned Fletcher with a stare. “What is this about?”

Maya came to stand in front of me, her hands clasped in front of her.

Liv nodded. “Just like we practiced.”

“What?” I asked, staring between my sister and her husband. But then I looked at Maya and saw big puppy dog eyes staring back at me.

“Oh hell no,” I said, getting up from my chair and backing away. “No, no, no.”

She stepped closer, eyes still wide and begging. “Uncle Rhett?”

I continued backing away, but Graham flounced up to me and nudged my leg.

Grumbling, I stopped, “What is it?”

She smiled sweetly. “Will you coach my Little League team?”

I stared from her to her parents. “Me with a dozen ten-year-old girls? You gotta be out of your fucking minds.”