Page 128 of Mom Ball

“Use all this nice stuff.” Morgan laughs. “But Ethan’s coming to help too, since he doesn’t have practice.”

I glance around the room as I fan my face. “We did hit the jackpot with this facility.”

“More like you hit the jackpot with the owner.” Morgan elbows me and winks.

My face flushes. We have one major kink to work out, but it is nice to know that Nate is back—especially back with me.

“What about him starting in the season opener?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sure he told you already.” She fans her hand dismissively.

No, he hasn’t told me.

“I saw the YouTube clip this morning.” She pulls out her phone and brings up a video.

It’s hard to tell much with her horribly cracked screen, but I can distinctly hear Nate talking to a reporter about the game.

“Morgan, this says he’s a probable starting pitcher.”

I take her phone and click to start the next suggested video. A younger guy talks to the same woman about pitching on Opening Day.

Morgan grabs her phone and shoves it under her bra strap. A little disturbing since I didn’t notice where she had it before. I possibly held Morgan’s boob sweat.

I wipe my hand down the shirt soiled with fake-frog-mouth dirt and worm slime just to be safe.

It’s hard not to think about Nate starting on Opening Day. That’s been his dream for as long as I’ve known him. Along with most every baseball pitcher, I imagine.

Although I want him here with us, I can’t let him do anything to jeopardize that. He’s not getting any younger, and he already survived one injury.

“So I’m thinking you in the batting cage with the tee, Ethan helping with form, Easton and Carlton helping with fly balls . . .” Morgan pauses.

I turn to her staring at me.

“You with me, Brooke?”

“Yeah, just thinking.”

She opens her mouth, but voices interrupt us before she can speak. I drop my shoulders and sigh in relief. Everyone else showing up for practice possibly saved me from Morgan’s meddling.

I can’t take another heart-to-heart about my feelings. Aniston already guessed what was going on between us. Although this is more about Nate pitching, the whole Timothy deal is still the underlying factor of everything.

If Morgan finds out, we may as well print it in the Apple Cart Weekly. It may take a week to come out, but that’s plenty of time for it to spread through the Pig and Adrianne’s hair salon.

Why do we still have a paper? We’d be better off letting Morgan be the town crier.

Georgia walks up, all smiles, rolling the golf bag behind her. “Ladies, how’s it going?”

“Where’s Carlton?” Morgan asks.

Her face falls, but she ignores the question.

“We’re good, Georgia. How are you?” I smile.

Then I slip Morgan a side-eye. It doesn’t work. She crosses her arms as if waiting for an answer.

“He had a medical emergency.”

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