Read Online Play Nice (Make the Play Book 3) by Amber Garza - Free Book Online
Authors: Amber Garza
Ads: Link
to confirm it. Turning off my phone, I toss it inside my purse.
Commotion to my left catches my attention. An older gentlemen attempts to stand from a circular table, but his walker clatters to the ground and he teeters for a second as he tries to reach for it. His face is one of determination, but I can see something else in his eyes. Embarrassment, maybe. Shame, possibly. And it cuts to my heart. I know that feeling. Plus, he reminds me of my grandpa, and that causes a hollow feeling in my chest. They say that the pain of losing someone diminishes over time, but I’ve never found that to be true.
Without thinking, I leap out of line and lunge toward the older gentleman. Reaching out my arm, I steady him. Once he’s upright, I bend over and pluck up his walker.
“Here you go.” Smiling, I push it in his direction.
“Thank you, my dear.” When he grins, wrinkles gather around his blue eyes.
My grandpa’s eyes were blue too. The exact same color as mine. Tears prick at my eyes. I blink profusely, panicked at my public display of emotion. My entire body goes hot.
“You okay?” The old man asks.
“Uh…” I breathe deeply. “Yeah. Fine.” Sniffing, I stand up straight. Pushing down the emotions, I do what I’m good at. Deflect. Pretend. Mask. But I can tell this man doesn’t buy it. He’s savvier than the kids at my school. His eyes tell the story of a man who’s lived through a lot. Who’s endured a lot. And who knows when someone is full of BS. My grandpa was the same way. It’s one of the things I loved about him so much. He was one of the few people I could be myself around. I didn’t have a choice, really. He could see right through me. “You just remind me of someone. That’s all.”
He cocks his head to the side, studying me. “And that someone isn’t around anymore?”
Swallowing hard, I shake my head.
“Have a seat,” the old man motions to an empty chair at his table. Then he painfully lowers himself into his own chair.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t.” I shake my head.
“I insist.” He winks. “Humor an old man.”
A light laugh escapes from my lips. “All right. Just for a minute.” I slide onto the wooden seat. It moans beneath me.
The old man reaches out a shaky hand. “I’m Henry.”
I take his hand in mine. “Ashley.”
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
My smile deepens. “My grandpa used to say things like that too.”
“Is that the ‘someone’ I reminded you of?”
I nod. “He passed away.”
“Well, I’m sure he’s looking down on you right now with pride.”
My chest tightens, and I squirm in my seat. Grandpa would be mortified if he knew the kind of person I’ve become. The way I’ve treated people. The way I’ve behaved. “Um…I doubt that, actually.”
“I don’t.” Henry offered the sincerest of smiles, and I almost believed him. “This place is crawling with people, but you’re the only one who helped me. The only one who cared.”
“I actually don’t usually do this kind of thing.”
“But you did today.”
I shrug.
“Here you are,” a woman’s voice rings out over my shoulder, startling me. Henry looks up and smiles.
I crane my neck. When my gaze takes in who stands behind me extending a coffee cup toward Henry, my face flames. “Oh, ummm….” I scramble out of my chair. “Hi, Mrs. Parker.” I’d know her anywhere. She rarely misses one of Hayes’ games. And then I know why Henry seemed familiar. It isn’t only because he reminds me of my grandpa. I’ve seen him before too, sitting beside Mrs. Parker on the bleachers.
“Hi, Ashley,” she speaks cautiously, throwing Henry a confused look. It makes my stomach churn.
“You two know each other?” Henry asks.
Hayes’ mom nods.
“Oh, you must be a friend of Hayes then,” Henry concludes.
But he’s wrong. I’m not friends with Hayes. In fact, I’m sure when he tells Hayes he ran into me, he’ll get an earful about what an awful person I am. How mean
Commotion to my left catches my attention. An older gentlemen attempts to stand from a circular table, but his walker clatters to the ground and he teeters for a second as he tries to reach for it. His face is one of determination, but I can see something else in his eyes. Embarrassment, maybe. Shame, possibly. And it cuts to my heart. I know that feeling. Plus, he reminds me of my grandpa, and that causes a hollow feeling in my chest. They say that the pain of losing someone diminishes over time, but I’ve never found that to be true.
Without thinking, I leap out of line and lunge toward the older gentleman. Reaching out my arm, I steady him. Once he’s upright, I bend over and pluck up his walker.
“Here you go.” Smiling, I push it in his direction.
“Thank you, my dear.” When he grins, wrinkles gather around his blue eyes.
My grandpa’s eyes were blue too. The exact same color as mine. Tears prick at my eyes. I blink profusely, panicked at my public display of emotion. My entire body goes hot.
“You okay?” The old man asks.
“Uh…” I breathe deeply. “Yeah. Fine.” Sniffing, I stand up straight. Pushing down the emotions, I do what I’m good at. Deflect. Pretend. Mask. But I can tell this man doesn’t buy it. He’s savvier than the kids at my school. His eyes tell the story of a man who’s lived through a lot. Who’s endured a lot. And who knows when someone is full of BS. My grandpa was the same way. It’s one of the things I loved about him so much. He was one of the few people I could be myself around. I didn’t have a choice, really. He could see right through me. “You just remind me of someone. That’s all.”
He cocks his head to the side, studying me. “And that someone isn’t around anymore?”
Swallowing hard, I shake my head.
“Have a seat,” the old man motions to an empty chair at his table. Then he painfully lowers himself into his own chair.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t.” I shake my head.
“I insist.” He winks. “Humor an old man.”
A light laugh escapes from my lips. “All right. Just for a minute.” I slide onto the wooden seat. It moans beneath me.
The old man reaches out a shaky hand. “I’m Henry.”
I take his hand in mine. “Ashley.”
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
My smile deepens. “My grandpa used to say things like that too.”
“Is that the ‘someone’ I reminded you of?”
I nod. “He passed away.”
“Well, I’m sure he’s looking down on you right now with pride.”
My chest tightens, and I squirm in my seat. Grandpa would be mortified if he knew the kind of person I’ve become. The way I’ve treated people. The way I’ve behaved. “Um…I doubt that, actually.”
“I don’t.” Henry offered the sincerest of smiles, and I almost believed him. “This place is crawling with people, but you’re the only one who helped me. The only one who cared.”
“I actually don’t usually do this kind of thing.”
“But you did today.”
I shrug.
“Here you are,” a woman’s voice rings out over my shoulder, startling me. Henry looks up and smiles.
I crane my neck. When my gaze takes in who stands behind me extending a coffee cup toward Henry, my face flames. “Oh, ummm….” I scramble out of my chair. “Hi, Mrs. Parker.” I’d know her anywhere. She rarely misses one of Hayes’ games. And then I know why Henry seemed familiar. It isn’t only because he reminds me of my grandpa. I’ve seen him before too, sitting beside Mrs. Parker on the bleachers.
“Hi, Ashley,” she speaks cautiously, throwing Henry a confused look. It makes my stomach churn.
“You two know each other?” Henry asks.
Hayes’ mom nods.
“Oh, you must be a friend of Hayes then,” Henry concludes.
But he’s wrong. I’m not friends with Hayes. In fact, I’m sure when he tells Hayes he ran into me, he’ll get an earful about what an awful person I am. How mean
Similar Books
