Page 6 of Mom Ball

CHAPTER 2

Brooke

If someone had asked what I least expected to happen today, seeing Nate would be right up there with winning the lottery. And that’s considering the fact that I’ve never played the lottery.

I clutch my broken flip-flop like my life depends on it as I try and process the reality that my ex-boyfriend moved a literal country mile down the road.

Plenty of people have gossiped about Jonah and Carolina flipping the Vanderburke Mansion. The most probable story I’ve heard to date is that Samuel who runs the bank bought it. There’s been little activity other than a Sold sign on the lawn late last summer, and the Nash couple in and out a few times with some furniture. I assumed someone out of town bought it.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined Nate living there. Isn’t he supposed to be in Atlanta to do ball, as Timothy would put it?

My heart beats harder as I consider my son.

I’ve never mentioned Nate to him or him to Nate. Actually, I’ve mentioned nothing to Nate since college.

We talked as normal a few times after he visited me at my dorm. Once I found out I was pregnant, I made a lame excuse about us needing to focus on our careers and quit answering his calls and texts.

Real mature, I know.

But I was eighteen and pregnant from one incident. It took all the courage I had to tell my parents and move back so they could help me. All the whispers around town didn’t help, especially since they all assumed it was a one-night stand.

It was—just with my long-time boyfriend.

Did I make a mistake not telling him? Maybe. But I couldn’t live with myself if I allowed a baby to ruin his ball career. Between loving parents and a well-off family, I had all the support I needed.

Or so I thought.

Seeing him today stirred up a bunch of emotions I haven’t felt in years.

Timothy brings the four-wheeler to a screeching halt in front of the house, jerking me out of my thoughts. The other boys walk up as we dismount.

Timothy talks with them, but their voices are muffled, as I’m still in a trance. I slog toward the sunroom, holding the broken flip-flop in my hand.

Morgan is the first to notice me when I enter the room. “What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

My limbs tingle. She’s older than me and doesn’t know much about my high school relationship. However, the others would well remember Nate and me together—especially Erica.

When I came home pregnant and enrolled in Apple Cart Community College instead of Bama, none of my friends or family pressured me with questions. Not even Erica.

At the time, I was thankful. In hindsight, it makes today harder. How could I possibly start to explain my ghost of boyfriends past?

Even worse, admit that Nate is my baby-daddy Bruno. The one topic everyone has steered clear of mentioning to me.

“I’m fine. The boys are fine.” I plop down on a lawn chair and toss the broken shoe on the ground.

“What happened there?” Morgan picks it up.

“I popped the strap climbing the fence.”

She laughs. “What I’d pay to see that.” She slaps the flip-flop against her leg. “Ouch. You mind if I keep this for a backup paddle?”

“Be my guest.” I lie back and close my eyes.

Morgan has been known to wield any type of non-lethal weapon at her kids. Purse straps, fly flaps, wooden spoons, and flip-flops. Andrew is the usual recipient, but all have had their share of heinie pops.

I’m thankful Timothy hasn’t given me any problems so far.

“Mama, guess who we met?”

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