Page 123 of Mom Ball

“How much do I owe you?” I start toward the kitchen, where I last left my purse.

She lifts a hand. “It’s fine. Your dad gave him money for hitting the ball, which more than paid for it.”

I roll my eyes.

“I wanted to check on you anyway.”

I watch the boys chatting on the couch, then inhale and hold my breath a second before letting it out. “Timothy, why don’t you show Carter your new game?”

“Oh yeah!” He runs upstairs with Carter behind him.

I collapse on the couch, and Aniston sits on the opposite end.

“You look depressed. I’m not sure staying home was the best idea for you.”

“Today I identify as a librocubicularist.”

“Huh?”

“Someone who reads books in bed. It’s very therapeutic. You should try it sometime.”

Aniston shakes her head. “I’m good. I have caffeine and cookie crack.”

I pull my knees to my chest.

“I saw him at the game, and we had a little chat.” Aniston sighs.

“What did you say?” I glare at her.

I’ve never been known for intimidation. She laughs, proving I still can’t pull it off.

“I could tell he was nervous being there, but he really wanted to watch Timothy.”

“Okay, but what did you say?”

“Long story short, he knows I know.”

I smack her across the face with a throw pillow. She shoves it back at me.

“You said you wouldn’t tell!”

“I won’t, but the man looked like someone had run over his dog.”

I groan and shove my fingers in my hair, now thankful I made myself shower.

“I know, and you know I know, and he knows I know. That’s all. No more knowing. I won’t even tell Easton.”

Aniston lifts both hands as if surrendering. I really want to trust her, but my stomach is knotted to no end. I haven’t eaten anything except one bowl of cereal around noon, so that might be it.

“If you tell anyone else—”

“I won’t.” She salutes me. “Scout’s honor.”

“When were you a scout?”

She rolls her eyes and mumbles what sounds like, “You two deserve each other.”

“What?”

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