phone. He scrolled through his pictures for a second and then turned the screen to face Margo.
“They called me Darling Daphne.”
The minute Margo focused on the picture in front of her, she couldn’t help the outburst of laughter that escaped her lips, which turned the heads of diners around them. She covered her mouth to stifle her laugh as she pulled the phone from Parker’s hand to get a closer look.
“Oh my God, I’m dying.” She started to click around on his phone and he tried to pull it away, but she kept his phone out of reach.
“What are you doing?”
“Just sending myself this picture. It’s called my new wallpaper.”
“If you’re trying to embarrass me, it’s not going to work; you can’t see the runs in my stockings in that picture, so I’m good.”
“Yes, I can.”
An outrageous gasp escaped Parker’s lips as he snagged the phone from Margo and took a closer look. His face twisted as he said, “No, you can’t.” Margo just laughed as she held her chest. “You bitch,” he joked, “How dare you joke about such important things?”
Margo continued to chuckle to herself as they both ate their oversized burritos and sucked down a couple of margaritas. It was the night she’d always dreamed of…enjoying a night out with Parker, joking and checking each other out, but she never thought her dream would actually come true.
Once they finished their drinks and meals, Parker paid the bill and Margo went to slip her sandals back on. Parker was around her chair in no time and held out his hand to her. Unsure of what he was doing, she tentatively took his hand in hers, letting him entwine their fingers together.
“Come on, I’m not ready for this night to end yet.” He tugged her toward the beach where the restaurant had access and took her down to the shore, while grabbing one of the blankets the restaurant offered for their beach goers.
They walked a ways from the hustle and bustle of the diners until they were in a secluded area, overlooking the ocean and the moon that reflected in the waves.
Parker set the blanket on the sand and then sat down, pulling Margo with him. They sat next to each other, side by side, both hugging their knees as they watched the waves tumble in.
“Do you ever miss playing ball?” Parker asked.
Did she ever miss it? Hell yeah, she missed playing softball. She had played competitively since she was in fifth grade; softball was her life and after college, to just have it ripped away from her was hard. There were “leagues” to join but they were all for drunk idiots who thought catching the ball with their beer cups was better suited than an actual glove. She lived for the moments where a ball was hit at her with such strong force that she wasn’t sure the leather glove she had on her hand was going to be good enough. She relished the moment her bat hit the ball, sending it into right center, letting her stretch a single out to a double, while sliding into the base head first. She missed the feel of the dirt, the camaraderie of the girls and the way her cleats felt sinking into the batter’s box. It was a time she wished she could revisit.
“More than you know,” she answered, as she played with a bracelet she was wearing.
“Ever thought about coaching?”
“That stuff is not for me. I’d be way too intense and, with my job, I work nights with all my events so it wouldn’t work out.”
“I can’t imagine what it would feel like to just stop playing. I don’t think I could handle such a loss in my life. Baseball is a necessity, like eating and breathing, without it I’m not sure I’d be able to function.”
Their love for a sport that required a great deal of talent and mental stability was a common connection between her, Parker and Lexi; it was what initially bonded them all together. When they were in college, they spent many days out on the field, just tossing the ball around, hitting balls to each
“They called me Darling Daphne.”
The minute Margo focused on the picture in front of her, she couldn’t help the outburst of laughter that escaped her lips, which turned the heads of diners around them. She covered her mouth to stifle her laugh as she pulled the phone from Parker’s hand to get a closer look.
“Oh my God, I’m dying.” She started to click around on his phone and he tried to pull it away, but she kept his phone out of reach.
“What are you doing?”
“Just sending myself this picture. It’s called my new wallpaper.”
“If you’re trying to embarrass me, it’s not going to work; you can’t see the runs in my stockings in that picture, so I’m good.”
“Yes, I can.”
An outrageous gasp escaped Parker’s lips as he snagged the phone from Margo and took a closer look. His face twisted as he said, “No, you can’t.” Margo just laughed as she held her chest. “You bitch,” he joked, “How dare you joke about such important things?”
Margo continued to chuckle to herself as they both ate their oversized burritos and sucked down a couple of margaritas. It was the night she’d always dreamed of…enjoying a night out with Parker, joking and checking each other out, but she never thought her dream would actually come true.
Once they finished their drinks and meals, Parker paid the bill and Margo went to slip her sandals back on. Parker was around her chair in no time and held out his hand to her. Unsure of what he was doing, she tentatively took his hand in hers, letting him entwine their fingers together.
“Come on, I’m not ready for this night to end yet.” He tugged her toward the beach where the restaurant had access and took her down to the shore, while grabbing one of the blankets the restaurant offered for their beach goers.
They walked a ways from the hustle and bustle of the diners until they were in a secluded area, overlooking the ocean and the moon that reflected in the waves.
Parker set the blanket on the sand and then sat down, pulling Margo with him. They sat next to each other, side by side, both hugging their knees as they watched the waves tumble in.
“Do you ever miss playing ball?” Parker asked.
Did she ever miss it? Hell yeah, she missed playing softball. She had played competitively since she was in fifth grade; softball was her life and after college, to just have it ripped away from her was hard. There were “leagues” to join but they were all for drunk idiots who thought catching the ball with their beer cups was better suited than an actual glove. She lived for the moments where a ball was hit at her with such strong force that she wasn’t sure the leather glove she had on her hand was going to be good enough. She relished the moment her bat hit the ball, sending it into right center, letting her stretch a single out to a double, while sliding into the base head first. She missed the feel of the dirt, the camaraderie of the girls and the way her cleats felt sinking into the batter’s box. It was a time she wished she could revisit.
“More than you know,” she answered, as she played with a bracelet she was wearing.
“Ever thought about coaching?”
“That stuff is not for me. I’d be way too intense and, with my job, I work nights with all my events so it wouldn’t work out.”
“I can’t imagine what it would feel like to just stop playing. I don’t think I could handle such a loss in my life. Baseball is a necessity, like eating and breathing, without it I’m not sure I’d be able to function.”
Their love for a sport that required a great deal of talent and mental stability was a common connection between her, Parker and Lexi; it was what initially bonded them all together. When they were in college, they spent many days out on the field, just tossing the ball around, hitting balls to each
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