Let It Be Me by Becky Wade (top young adult novels .TXT) 📕

sandwiched between them.

“Is it okay with you that I’m here tonight?” Sebastian asked.

Ben gave a good-natured shrug. “You’re welcome to cheer for the Mountaineers anytime.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. It’s okay.” Ben’s expression looked clearer and less troubled than it had the past few times he’d seen his friend. “What’s been going on lately?”

They used to keep in close enough contact that Ben wouldn’t have had to ask. “Work’s been about the same.”

“Any change on the little girl who needs a heart transplant?”

“What little girl?” Hadley Jane asked.

“One of the babies I take care of at the hospital.” To Ben, Sebastian said, “We had to take her off the transplant list, but then we put her back on. Now we’re just waiting to see if a heart becomes available in time.”

“I hope it does. I feel for her and her parents.”

Hadley Jane’s jaw dropped. “She’s getting a new heart?”

“That’s the plan.”

“I want a new heart!”

“Your heart is already perfect. That’s my professional diagnosis as a surgeon.”

“But I don’t want this old one.”

“Newer isn’t always better.”

“Yeah huh, it is.”

“How’s your baseball team been doing?” Sebastian asked Ben. Ben had played baseball in college and now competed in a men’s league.

“We’re still dominating.”

“And your strained hamstring?”

“Better.”

Ben probably thought he knew how much their friendship meant to Sebastian. After all, Ben had experienced every minute of time they’d spent together. Yet Ben couldn’t know what his friendship had meant to a heartbroken, lonely kid. He couldn’t know what his dependability had been worth to a boy who’d learned young that the world wasn’t a reliable place. “Has anyone seen Luke here in Misty River since he was released?”

“Not that I know of. I’m planning to reach out to his mom soon to see if I can get his number from her.”

Sebastian nodded. “See you at church on Sunday?”

“Yes, and also Tuesday night, for dinner with Natasha and Genevieve.”

“Right.”

“I’m glad you’re going to be in town for the whole week.”

“Same here.”

“Now pass the child.” Ben reached for Hadley Jane. “You haven’t come over to see me yet, little girl. Which means you haven’t discovered the hidden lollipop I brought for you.”

She squealed and scrambled into Ben’s arms.

Sebastian found Leah and lowered onto the bleacher seat next to her.

Leaning back, she introduced him to the older couple sitting on her far side. They were wearing jerseys and Dylan pins that matched Leah’s.

Rudy grinned at him. “Are you two dating?”

“Yes,” Sebastian answered before Leah could say no.

“Rudy,” Tess said to her husband. “That’s not a very polite question.”

“I can’t help myself!” Rudy replied. “I’m just so happy to see Leah with a young man. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“The pleasure’s mine.”

“Isn’t Leah the best?” Rudy asked.

“The best.”

“She’s the smartest thing.” Rudy’s glasses slipped down his nose. “The sweetest.”

“I don’t consider myself to be sweet,” Leah murmured under her breath to Sebastian.

“But smart you’ll accept?” he murmured back.

“You better believe I will.”

“Push up your glasses, please,” Tess instructed Rudy, who hurried to do as she asked.

A whistle sounded, and the teams jogged onto the field for the second half. The Mountaineers were down, seven to seventeen.

“Where’s Dylan?” Sebastian asked.

“There. On the sidelines. He played a fair amount in the first half, so I have hope that you’ll get to see him in action.” She held the popcorn toward him. He took a handful.

It tasted like average quality movie popcorn. But he was starving, so it might as well have been the most delicious thing he’d ever eaten.

“Did you have dinner?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

“I’ll go down and get you something. Hamburger? Hot dog—”

“You’re here to watch your brother. I’m here to watch your brother. I can wait to eat until after the game.”

“I really don’t mind,” she told him.

His chest ached with tenderness. He was a doctor, used to the role of caretaker, less familiar with being cared for. “Thanks, but I can wait.”

“Then eat the rest of this.” She passed the popcorn over. “I had as much as I wanted when you were talking to the Colemans.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Those thick lashes framed eyes that looked candid. But it might be that he was just a sucker where she was concerned. It might be that she could tell him the sun was made of Play-Doh, and he’d believe her.

“And here.” She lifted her cup. “Iced tea. There’s at least half left.”

He hesitated.

“Good grief. Here.” She thrust the tea at him. “For someone who’s quick to give gifts, you seem awfully reluctant to take them.”

“Oh?” he asked dryly. “How does that feel? To want to give something to someone who’s reluctant to take it?”

She laughed. “It’s my turn to complain about you! You’re not allowed to twist this into an opportunity to complain about me.”

On the next play, Dylan jogged onto the field. Leah cupped her hands around her mouth. “Go, Dylan!”

They were too far away for Dylan to hear. She scooted forward on the seat, back straight. The play went off. She shouted encouragement, clapped, winced, then clapped some more as the boys regrouped in a huddle.

Watching her was the best entertainment in Georgia.

“You got this, Mountaineers!” Leah yelled.

A few minutes later, the team failed to convert on third down and had to kick. She shook her head. “When they run the ball, they convert on third down sixty-seven percent of the time. So I’m not sure why they attempt to pass on third downs.”

“Can I go get a candy bar?” Rudy asked his wife.

The older woman released a frustrated sigh. “You already had half a Kit Kat, remember?”

“I’m still hungry.”

“Here. I have some carrot sticks in my purse.” Tess handed Rudy the snack she’d packed in a Baggie.

“Pretty soon,” Leah whispered to Sebastian, “Rudy will make a trip to the restroom and, when she’s not watching, buy and eat a cupcake.”

“I like them.”

She surveyed him from the corner of sparkling eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

In a short period of time, she’d become too important to him. Stupidly important to him. His