Yours Always by Rhonda Dennis Read Free Book Online Page A

obvious that we both have pasts that we’re not ready or willing to share.  Let’s just agree that as far as we’re concerned, the only past we have is the one we’ve created together.”
    “Agreed,” I say, extending my hand out to seal the deal with a shake.  We grow quiet again. 
    After a couple of minutes, Fletcher asks, “Hey, do you remember that time we went to the pizza parlor with Lizzy and Ben?”
    I laugh so loudly that I quickly cup my hand over my mouth as I get odd stares from the people around us.  Fletcher grins broadly.  “I got you to laugh again!” he says, eagerly pointing an accusatory index finger in my direction.
    “You did,” I admit once I remove my hand.  “Consider yourself very lucky because it’s pretty rare for someone to get a laugh out of me.”
    “Why? Are you depressed?” Fletcher blatantly asks.  I’m uncertain if he’s joking or serious.
    “Nah, I’m just dull,” I answer.
    He leans in closely like he wants to whisper something to me.  “I just think you haven’t been hanging around the right people.”
    “Perhaps,” I agree with a shrug as we’re suddenly bombarded by the giggly trio.
    “Will you dunk her, Uncle Fletcher?  She’s my mean science teacher, Mrs. Gibbons.  I kept missing, and she laughed at me,” Molly says with a pout.
    “I’ll do my best,” he promises, tossing one of the softballs up and catching it in his palm.  He does it again, but this time, I snatch the ball mid-air and rocket it squarely in the bull’s-eye before anyone has time to react.  Molly is stunned, Fletcher is impressed, and the mean science teacher is letting everyone within a two block radius know exactly how cold the water is.
    “I want YOU to teach me how to pitch, Miss Savannah,” Molly excitedly requests.
    “Maybe one day,” I say, launching another ball as soon as the teacher sits on the bench.  She plunges back into the tank, and when she comes up this time, she shoots an evil glare in my direction.  I figure I’d best slack off, lest Molly end up with perpetual homework.  I hand the remaining softballs to the girls.  “Okay, let’s see what you’ve got, ladies.  Oh, and Molly, you don’t have to call me Miss Savannah.  Just Savannah is fine.”
    “Not according to my momma.  She’d be so mad if she found out I called an adult by her first name,” Molly explains.
    “I understand because I grew up the same way.  It’s a Southern thing.  I don’t want you getting in trouble with your momma, so Miss Savannah is fine.  Now, show me your best pitch.”
    They each lob their balls, and they fall way short of the target.  The shivering science teacher looks relieved as we move away from the booth.  “We’re gonna ride the bumper cars.  See ya later, Uncle Fletcher!”  And as quickly as they had arrived, the trio disappears into the crowd.
    “What would you like to do next?” Fletcher asks.
    I steal a glance at my watch and realize that it’s nearly nine-thirty.  Though it’s early for most, it’s the equivalent of an all-nighter for me.  “I think I’d like to go home now,” I answer.
    “Is it the company?”
    “No,” I say with a smile.  “This is late for me. I should be in bed nodding off to the sound of the TV.”
    “It’s inexcusable for someone your age to publicly admit that.  Okay, I’ll bring you home, but first, how about dinner and a movie tomorrow night?  And I’m not talking about the early feature, unless it’s a deal breaker.  Then we can have lunch and a movie.”
    “I’m not sure…”
    “Come on.  You know you want to.”
    “Okay, we can do dinner and a movie, but the movie can’t be one of those super sappy love fests, nor can it be a shoot ‘em-up-guts-all-over-the-place movie.  Also, there are no guarantees that I’ll actually watch the entire movie; I might sleep through it.”
    “Okay, got it.  Anything else I need to know? ” Fletcher asks as we make our way to the parking