Page 130 of Mom Ball

I nod and smile. He’d called me earlier and said he wanted to FaceTime Timothy before his game.

Timothy plops down on the couch and talks to him. I hear bits and pieces of the conversation as I rush back and forth, packing waters and wiping up crumbs from Timothy eating a snack.

The way these tournaments work is the first team to take two out of three games wins. We play one game tonight and in the morning for sure, then possibly a tiebreaker after that.

“Mama, Nate wants to talk to you.”

My stomach buckles for a split second. Surely he isn’t wanting to talk about that over FaceTime. Just in case, I snatch the phone to where Timothy can no longer see him.

“Hey.”

“Hey, I mentioned a penny I got when I was Timothy’s age. I want him to have it for good luck.”

“Now?” I glance at the microwave.

We really need to leave in a few minutes.

“It’s in my bedroom on the dresser. Not hard to find. Use the other key on that ring to get in.”

“Okay.” I look at Timothy. “Grab your bag so we’ll have time to get the penny.”

“Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks.” I glance at the stairs, where Timothy is running toward his room. “I gotta go. Love you.”

“Love you too.” He smiles.

I smile back and end the call.

My mom mode kicks into high gear as I pack a Bogg bag with all the things. Then I dig in my purse for Nate’s keys I stowed away. When Timothy comes downstairs with his ball bag, I’m armed and ready to go.

Without saying anything, we rush to the car and drive to Nate’s. I park and leave the car running for Timothy to have air. “This will only take a few minutes.”

He nods, and I hurry up the path. I unlock and push open the heavy wooden door. It’s much thicker than most doors and has a lot of carved detailing that I’m sure adds to the weight.

My biceps pulse as I shove it closed behind me. Nate’s master suite takes up one whole half of the upstairs. I hope the penny is where he said and easy to spot. Too bad it’s one of those souvenir pennies from a machine. Otherwise, I’d be tempted to pull one from my purse.

I take the stairs two at a time, which isn’t easy with short legs. I’m out of breath by the time I reach Nate’s room.

It’s dark and big, but more lived in than the only other time I’ve seen it. When he gave us a tour of the house, there were basic furnishings and curtains. He’s now added a large area rug, some lamps, and a few wall hangings.

A slight flutter skips in my heart at the thought of him making this place home. The thought of him making Apple Cart home.

I cross the room to the dresser. Sure enough, the penny is front and center, as if he left it there for me to find. As I’m reaching for it, I see something in the mirror above.

Is that?

I drop my hand and go to his bed. There is a nightstand with a lamp on each side. One table also has a small picture of us at senior prom, as well as a plate.

The plate.

It’s a dingy white restaurant plate with a faint kiss mark at the bottom. Above the lip print is “Brooke’s Home Plate” in my handwriting.

I stand frozen, staring at the plate. It’s on a small easel. How long has he had it on display? Did he do this hoping I’d find it today?

Either way, the fact that he kept it in pristine condition after all this time with all his moving around leaves me in awe.

“Mama!”

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