Until Friday Night (The Field Party #1)(32)

After a few moments Uncle Boone cleared his throat. “Boys don’t always make the right decisions. It takes years before they become men and wise up.”

He didn’t have to explain. I was already starting to understand.

“You deserve more, Maggie. He’s hurting, but you’ve had your share of hurt too, sweetheart.”

I knew Uncle Boone meant well. And I also knew he was right. I did deserve more, and I knew it wouldn’t be from West. He never promised me more than friendship, and friendship was what he needed from me. And until he didn’t need me anymore, I’d be there for him. Even if it was hard, and even if I had flutters from time to time. It was my job to remember he had no other deeper feelings for me. I would guard myself. I had made it through hell and survived. I could do this.

“We killed it!” Brady’s voice boomed, and I looked out to see him walking toward us, beaming at his dad. Uncle Boone stood there with pride etched on his face. I imagined this was why it was so hard for West. This was one of the things he’d already lost.

“Good game, son.” Uncle Boone patted Brady on the back. “You headed to the field?”

“Yeah, you coming, Maggie?” he asked, looking at me.

I shook my head.

He looked relieved and concerned at the same time.

“She’s gonna go on home with me tonight,” Uncle Boone told him, not mentioning my visit to West’s this afternoon.

“All right, I won’t be home too late,” he assured his dad, then turned and headed toward Ivy, who was waiting for him.

I glanced back in West’s direction, and our eyes collided. He was already headed my way. Serena was following behind him. This was not something I wanted to do in front of Uncle Boone.

“You want to wait on him to get here, or you want to go?” Uncle Boone asked.

I glanced up at Uncle Boone and gave him an apologetic smile. I knew he didn’t agree with this situation, and I loved that he cared enough about me to be worried. But I wasn’t running off on West. Not after seeing Brady with his dad and recognizing West wouldn’t ever have that again.

“Hey,” West said, bringing my attention back to him.

Serena stopped behind him. The look on her face was pure annoyance.

I moved my gaze away from her and back to West. I smiled at him. I wanted him to know everything was good. I’d text him later and tell him “good game.”

“You going to the field?”

I shook my head.

“She’s not going. So can we leave now?” Serena asked, reaching out and taking West’s arm.

He didn’t pull away from her, and I refused to let that hurt me.

“You going home?” he asked me.

I nodded.

“You played a good game,” Uncle Boone said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “That touchdown was impressive. Your dad will be happy to hear about it.” Then he started steering me toward the parking lot. “Y’all have a good night now. Maggie and I are headed home.”

He hadn’t left any room for argument.

West looked torn. Like he wanted to stop me, but he didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t make that decision for him. I lifted my hand and gave him a small wave before turning and walking away with Uncle Boone.

She Will Always Be Just My Friend

CHAPTER 22

WEST

I didn’t leave the house all weekend except to run to the store for some milk and eggs. Once Maggie had left with her uncle on Friday, I’d gotten it through Serena’s head that I was going home. Alone.

When I got home, Dad had been asleep, but I’d sat and talked to Momma about the game and Maggie. She really liked Maggie. She also wanted to know why Coralee thought that Maggie didn’t talk. Momma had been smart enough to know something was up and didn’t tell Coralee that Maggie had in fact talked when she was here.

It was the first thing she’d asked me when I’d gotten home. I knew she was reading more into things with Maggie than was true. She might have wanted us to be together, but I wasn’t in the right mindset to have a relationship with someone like Maggie. Someone who deserved so much more than I had to give.

Explaining that to Momma wasn’t really a good idea, though. She’d worry about me. And she already had enough to worry about. We both did.

Saturday I’d spent the day in Dad’s room watching college football. When he was awake, we talked some about the game Friday night. Mostly I talked and he listened. It was hard for him to talk now. Breathing was getting harder and harder on him. The hospice worker came, and I stayed with Dad while I could. I only stepped out when she and Momma bathed him.

Sunday was a repeat of Saturday, except we watched the NFL games. Momma curled up on the bed with us, and we talked. We talked about our first camping trip and how Momma had screamed when the black bear had gotten into our cooler. Then we laughed about the first time we had taken Momma fishing. She’d been horrified by the fact we put live crickets on the hook.

Dad also wanted to know about Maggie. She’d charmed him easily enough. He had warned me not to mess that up, saying she was a keeper. Momma had patted my hand as if to agree with him.

Each night after Dad went to sleep, I’d go to my room and text Maggie. She always answered, and eventually we’d end up talking on the phone until we both fell asleep.

By Monday I was more than ready to see her. Dad had actually slept through the night and seemed better this morning. Momma had been happy about that, and leaving them hadn’t been as hard.