August 30th 2022
Chapter 242
Our Exploration of Practice
Dear Mrs. Friar,
I've been debating whether or not to reach out to you for a few weeks. I've thought about calling you or going to visit you either at the high school or at your house, but I never went through with it. Then I went home the other day, and Anton was working in his diary for your class, and I was reminded of how some of the others have been writing to you and I figured maybe that was the way to go, to get the words out on my own as much as possible, you know? But even that's been complicated. I've been starting and restarting all this time. I don't even know if this will be the time that I get it right, but here goes.
I might be overstepping a bit, I realize that, but I also think that if anyone will understand, it will be you. I need – I'm hoping that there's a way to convince Emma not to leave Austin. I don't know what it is, but there has to be, and if I could be a part of it, I would want to help. I have never been a man of many words, you know that, but this is not one of those times where I can keep quiet. I have been drawn to your sister since I first met her, after she moved to Austin. You might remember, my family and I came to dinner at your house. I had seen her before, I think, at Christmas, but that was the first time we were introduced, the first time we spoke. And right then and there, I felt different.
She and I didn't see a lot of each other, not for a while. We'd run into each other, or we would be at an event where my family and yours were both there… Our connection, whatever it was, was fed on what small conversations we could have, and each one made me eager for another. It didn't take long that I started wanting to ask her out, and I should have. The fact that I didn't, that was on me. The longer it took, the more I realized we were actually becoming friends. We've been hanging out more, over the last several months, and even then, I didn't find out that she was planning to drop out and go back to Arizona until early last month. When I found out, that's when I started trying to figure out what to do. I didn't want her to go. I can't – I don't want to lose her.
The problem now is that, if I tell her everything, it won't help. It'll only make things more complicated, and I don't want that for her. I understand why she wants to go, and I respect that. If she goes, then I'll wish her the best, but if she stayed I
.
"Hello, uh… Hello, Mrs. Friar, I… You wouldn't happen to have received an envelope from me, would you?" Dakota Day asked when she opened the door. At twenty-five, there was still very much of the boy she'd first known as a tenth grader, but more and more his looks pulled toward his father, Barton, and his mother, Michelle. He'd always been quiet, and at ease, so it was almost strange to see him gone sort of tense and awkward, but then Maya had a pretty good idea why.
"I did, just this morning," she nodded. Tenser…
"You… Did you open it? Did you… Did you read…" he asked, hesitant but also looking like he already knew the answer.
"I did," Maya told him. He closed his eyes. "It looked incomplete."
"Because it was," he admitted, and he walked into the house when she invited him to do so, the better to shut the door and go sit again. "I wasn't even sure if I was going to send it to you. I was writing, and then my mother came to visit. She has a key, and she let herself in, so I… I panicked a little, I guess. I folded up the page, stuck it in the envelope. It was addressed, stamped, all of it. I just didn't want it to get her attention, but it did. I remember she asked me if I wanted her to take my mail to the mailbox on her way out, and I just said, 'sure.' Except…"
"Except she got your letter," Maya nodded.
"I didn't even realize until it was too late," he sighed.
"You were hoping to get it out of my mailbox before I saw it, weren't you?" she thought aloud. He sighed again, rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. Now that it was all out there, he didn't know what to say. After a moment, Maya got up from the couch, walked off to the kitchen at an eased pace before returning with the incomplete letter. She sat once more and passed it to Dakota. He hesitated before taking it from her. She didn't let go. He looked at her. "Finish it. Right here. Talk to me," she encouraged and let go of the envelope. Dakota stared at it a moment before folding it and sticking it in his back pocket.
"I don't know how," he admitted. "I hadn't touched it in a day when my mother came. I was sitting to try again when she showed up. All I know is that no matter what I do…" he shook his head. She could see his point very well, whether he could express it or not. If he asked Emma out now, what would he hope to accomplish? He was a good enough guy that he realized the position he'd be putting her in, and he didn't want to make her do something she didn't want to do for his sake. But at the same time…
"If you ask me, if there's ever going to be a reason for her to stay, it'll already be there," she told Dakota. He wasn't following. "She's not leaving here or going there because of family. She's got some of that on both sides, and as far as I know, loves us all in equal measures. I think the only reason she's thinking of returning to Arizona is that, in her mind, it's what she has to do. She came here for college, but now she won't be in college anymore, and maybe she doesn't feel she's earned the right to keep staying with us. It's silly, completely wrong, but that's where her head is at. Family's not going to tip the balance, school isn't going to be a thing anymore, her job's a job. Friends will be friends, no matter where she is. But then there's you, Dakota. Her good friend… She's mentioned the two of you have been hanging out, did you know?" He didn't. "I do remember that dinner. I remember the both of you making eyes at each other," she smirked, especially at his shy aversion. "I'm not telling you to go for the grand declaration, just… be there for her, maybe work your way up. You want her to have a reason to stay? I think you might be it, Dakota."
x
When they were at home and she got to play outside, it would be like reflex for Marianne to go and pick up the basketball nowadays. Oh, she was only six, sure, and no matter that she was taller than just about all the kids in kindergarten with her, she had a long way to go as a player. But among her peers, she was easily one of if not the best. She would practice throwing by herself, and she would try and show her little sisters… the triplets, at least. But her favorite part was when she'd get to play opposite her father. She played with her mother, too, at least when she wasn't getting up in months with a pregnancy, but it was different with her father, and they all knew it.
And for all that, it wasn't to basketball practice that she would now be driven on weekends but soccer. They were all signed up together, Marianne, Winnie, Harper, June, and Lily, had been since the fall. Now, on top of their blue bandanas, they also had their uniforms to run around in. As this had entered the 'family schedule,' on top of Marianne's starting kindergarten, it had really felt as though they had entered a new era: the beginning of activities, of sports and the likes. It was easy enough right now with only Marianne to service, but what about when the triplets got a little older and started doing the same? They wouldn't just go and dump them all in the one place if it wasn't what they wanted. Would it be more convenient to them? Sure, but they weren't nearly so overrun that they would put their own convenience over their girls' preferences. If they all wanted to do different things, then they would find a way and they would make it work.
"Daddy, you're staying, right?" Marianne asked as they got out of the car, the two of them and Winnie, who they'd picked up on the way.
"I need to go the grocery store, remember?" Lucas told her. Yes, she did remember, or she did so once he'd reminded her, and then she had that little look she'd get sometimes, where her reasoning told her that what was happening was fair, no matter how much she wished there were a different way. They saw it every now and then when, much as they wanted to join her in something, they had to deal with any of her little sisters, or a work thing, a home thing, or a baby thing… Just because her patience was a near infinite thing, it didn't mean she couldn't be disappointed. "I can stay for a little while, yeah?" he offered as compromise. "But then I need to go."
"Okay!" Marianne perked up at once. Usually, if they could, she would still go do the groceries run with him. She was always great about helping him, grabbing everything they'd need week to week to feed a household of four adults, four small girls, a baby, five dogs… Since the introduction of soccer practice, they'd had to change things up.
Ten minutes, he told himself. He would sit and watch her for ten minutes, there along with Priya, and with Lee Beaumont, who'd brought both his granddaughter and her best friend. Marianne would keep looking over to see him there, and so would Winnie, and before they knew it, ten minutes was twenty, and thirty, and then he'd just stayed and watched the whole practice. He'd texted Maya at some point to let her know, when it became clear to him that there would be no point in his leaving anymore if he was then going to have to pick the girls up. Even in a text response, he could hear her smiling to herself and muttering either 'Huckleberry' or 'Girl Dad' under her breath… probably both.
So, they'd have to go to the store, the three of them together. At least he would have not one but two helpers in red shirts and shorts to fill up the two baskets with him and then unload them at the register. Marianne had grasped the fact that this had been a fortunate accident, his staying. It wasn't that he didn't want to be there, but there were things he had to do. The fortunate part had been for the both of them, hadn't it? She'd gotten to see that he was there, watching her, and he'd gotten to see her run around and play. Every day, it felt more and more like she was becoming grown. She was still a child, yes, but she was not such a little child anymore. Long gone were the toddler days, and in the fall, she'd be starting the grades, first, and second, straight on to twelfth… So, sticking around for a soccer practice was a good thing. He'd be looking back on these days before he knew it.
TO BE CONTINUED
See you tomorrow! - mooners
