Page 13 of Mom Ball

“You too. See you around our road.” He gently touches my arm for a beat, then turns and walks away.

I grip the spot still warm from his touch and demand my heart to quit beating so fast.

Having a kid on my own and keeping his dad a secret has taken a toll on my dating life. As in made it nonexistent. Plenty of people have tried to fix me up, and a few promising guys have asked me out. But I never made it on a date with any of them.

Not because they weren’t interested, but because I wasn’t. None of them measured up to what I had in mind for my husband and Timothy’s dad. I assumed it was because I’m super picky and protective of Timothy.

Now I know it’s because they weren’t Nate.

* * *

Nate

Running into Brooke set my stomach in knots. I expect to see her on our road, or even at church, but not the hospital.

Part of me is a little disappointed she didn’t get to be a teacher. I’m sure she’s great at the radiology thing, but I know how much she wanted to teach kindergarten. Maybe she could give me advice on backup careers in case my shoulder never heals.

I shake my head. That’s not something I want to consider. At least not in my twenties. I’d planned on playing until my mid-thirties, then maybe opening a training facility or something. I’m still too young to feel this old.

Mary’s Diner comes into view, and my stomach growls. Maybe it’s from the Brooke thing, but food never hurts. I pull in the parking lot. It’s late morning, which means she’s probably still serving breakfast. Mary’s is the kind of place where you can order anything and know it will be good.

The door drags across the welcome mat. It’s just loud enough for every head to turn when I enter. Paul and Dot sit in a corner booth, and a couple of guys in camouflage sit at a table. I nod to all and continue toward the front.

Everything is the same. Checkered tablecloths, framed photos of Apple Cart back in the day, and my high school jersey hanging on the wall behind the counter.

I sigh and think back to my glory days playing high school ball. I’d assumed the best would be when I made it to the big leagues. It’s great, no doubt. But playing for your school with your buddies is far more fun.

“Hey, sugar.” Mrs. Mary smiles widely, showing the gap in her front teeth. “I was wondering when you’d come by.”

“Where you want me to sit?”

“Anywhere you like.” She wipes her hands down the front of her apron. “You caught us between breakfast and lunch rush.”

“Thanks.” I take a seat in the corner booth where Brooke and I often sat. We’d share a bigger table across the room when friends ate with us.

Second to my mom, Mary has fed me more than anyone. Mom would help her prepare for catering events at times when money was tighter— really it was always tight. Mary would send her home with a plate for me when they finished.

I’ve barely settled in my seat when she brings a big glass of sweet tea. “Here’s a menu, but let me make a suggestion.”

“Absolutely.”

“We still have breakfast food and we’re starting to grill steaks for lunch. How’s scrambled eggs with steak and hash browns sound?”

“Delicious.” I take a long drink of my tea.

She gathers the menu and smiles before hurrying to the back.

I slump down and push my side of the booth farther from the table. I grew two inches since high school, and the change is noticeable sitting here.

A black-and-white photo of the original high school stares at me. It burned down long before Mom and I moved here. I went to the school built sometime in the eighties.

It’s rumored that a former principal set the school on fire to get an upgrade. People say she was mad that the athletics facilities got a new gym. The weird thing is we still called that gym the “new gym” when I was in school.

Mary returns with my food, humming a cheerful tune. She’s never in a bad mood, at least that I’ve seen. She can be stern and serious, but never unhappy. With any luck, eating her food will transfer some of that upbeat attitude to me.

“This looks delicious.”

“It is.” She laughs and slides into the seat across from me.

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