Page 24 of Mom Ball

“I did. And we used to go—” I clamp my mouth shut and clear my throat. “To school together.”

He smiles. “What was Mama like back then?”

“Nice, fun, beautiful.”

He smiles wider. “She’s still nice and beautiful, but I don’t know about the fun.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she worries a lot.”

I speed up toward the front of the house, relieved to find Brooke sitting in her car. If I keep talking, Timothy might figure out pretty quickly we were more than classmates.

He sees her at the same time and runs toward the car. I follow him, matching my steps to his with my long legs.

“Mama!” He opens her door.

She jumps and catches her breath.

“Were you going to leave me?”

Brooke shakes her head and starts to cry. She pulls him in her lap and hugs him close. “Never. You know better than that.”

He pulls back, and I take a step away.

“You know I would tell you if I went somewhere, even to the house for a minute.” She glances at me, then back at him. “But if I did go, you can trust Mr. Nate. He’s a good man and not a stranger.”

Timothy nods his head, then smiles up at me.

Now I want to cry.

“Uh, he’s looking good in there. I thought you might want to see.”

“Thanks.” She smiles and dabs at her eyes. “I just needed some air.”

“Then why did you get in the car with the windows up?” Timothy asks.

Brooke climbs out and sighs. I pull Timothy to the side so she can shut the door.

I’ve never been a parent, but I totally get needing some time alone. Before and after games, when my shoulder flares up, and many times right after our breakup.

The three of us walk in silence downhill toward the shop. I notice our shadows side by side. A weird emotion creeps up.

If I had to describe it, I’d say jealousy mixed with regret.

What if I had fought for Brooke when she broke up with me? Drove to see her instead of just calling and texting all the time?

I might could be her husband and Timothy’s dad.

Even worse, what if I’d left when I’d planned on it the last day I was with her? I’d surprised her at college and stayed the night in her dorm. Nothing happened—that night.

It was the next afternoon when I should’ve already been back in Atlanta. Instead, I’d lingered around because she didn’t want me to leave.

She’d wanted everything as badly as me.

However, being the guy, I should’ve backed down. That’s on me. Nothing was the same after that day, and our relationship lasted only another month.

It was the last time I saw her in person until she was hanging on the fence in her bathrobe.

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