Page 36 of Mom Ball

I stand aside as she instructs the parents where to set up their lawn chairs. Another cow moos in the distance while Ethan gathers the kids to work on basics.

I walk toward the moo to make sure there isn’t a bull around. At least the grass hasn’t grown so high that we can’t find the cow patties. Give it a few more months and we’ll be practicing in a jungle.

“Brooke?”

That voice.

I take a deep breath and turn my head to Nate crossing the road from his property. It’s been a week since I last saw him, which is either way too long or too short. I can’t decide, and I don’t want to.

“Hey. What are y’all doing out here?” he asks.

“It was either this or practice at nine, according to Jeffrey’s field schedule.” I roll my eyes.

“That’s ridiculous. Y’all can’t do anything with cows and poop all around. Come across the road to my place.”

“I—”

“I’ll go tell them.”

I’m trying to respond when he jumps the fence and jogs toward the parents. I watch for a few seconds, then follow him.

By the time I make it to everyone, they’re folding chairs. Morgan whistles, and Ethan’s head whips around like a dog’s. “Bring it in, we’re going to Mr. Nate’s house.”

The kids cheer, and Tami gives Nate a look that momentarily makes me jealous. Then I realize Nate is not mine . . . and it’s Tami.

Ethan gets the gate, and we funnel to the other side. Paul and Ms. Dot zoom by in a golf cart. Maribelle jerks her twins back before they get run over. Paul honks, and Dot yells out, “Sorry,” as they speed toward the orchard.

Chances are he plans on trying to pick apples that don’t yet exist. Ever since my mom said he could come pick apples anytime, he’s taken full advantage.

I’m so focused on the kids and the golf cart that I don’t notice Nate’s hand on my back until he slides it away. My stomach tingles. He was likely holding me back from death by Paul’s drive-by.

Yeah, that’s it. Nothing more.

We look both ways and cross the road, dragging chairs and equipment behind. Nate jogs ahead and points past his house. “I have a makeshift training center in my shop and a nice level lot in the back.”

Without hesitation, the kids hurry behind him and race to the shop. One kid falls down and gets tangled in his clothes. Unsurprisingly, it’s the boy wearing some type of cloak.

I help him up, and his mom thanks me.

“You’re welcome.”

After he catches up with the others, she sighs. “Hi, I’m Agatha.”

I shake her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Brooke, Timothy’s mom.”

“This is Reece’s first sport ever. He has so many allergies that I’ve always homeschooled him and kept him from team involvement.”

I nod.

“Our allergist suggested I start integrating him into society to get used to germs. I thought an outdoor sport might be a good start.”

“So is the cape something to do with his allergies?”

She laughs. “Oh no. That’s our compromise. He wanted to play Quidditch.”

I think that’s a Harry Potter thing, but I’m not certain. I decide not to ask.

Aniston slaps a hand on my shoulder and smirks. “Looks like your man came through for us.”

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