Page 78 of Mom Ball

I suck in a breath and slowly let go of it, symbolic of letting out my darkest secret. Although it isn’t really. Everyone in this county knows I’m a single mom and always have been. On more than one occasion, I’ve heard people refer to Timothy’s dad as “Bruno” because my family never talks about him.

That never bothered me until Bruno came back to town and flipped every switch of emotion I’d worked so hard to hide.

* * *

Nate

I spent the last few days in Atlanta with PT and doctors. It didn’t go like I wanted, but for reasons other than my shoulder.

My pitching looked good, and they still wanted to see me on the roster despite some younger guys showing promise in the preseason. But every pitch I threw made me think of the Armadillos. Not when I played for them, but Timothy’s current team.

In a short time, I’ve gotten attached to those kids. Of course, I’ve gotten reattached to Brooke even more.

I left town this morning on good terms, letting everyone assume I’m headed to spring training soon. The funny thing is the whole time I was there, I thought about Brooke and being in Apple Cart. When I’m in Apple Cart, I rarely think about playing ball in Atlanta.

Maybe I’m done.

The four-hour drive gave me plenty of time to think things through. I came to the conclusion that if I have a shot at Brooke, I’m taking it.

After a quick shower and plenty of caffeine, I head to the ballpark. I have no idea when they’re playing, because it’s a tournament. As long as Jeffrey lets me in the park, I’ll be fine.

When I turn toward the ball fields, cars are parked in the ditch on both sides. I stop at the school and decide to walk rather than chance finding a spot. Morgan’s and Brooke’s vehicles are near the entrance, which means I haven’t missed all their games.

“Nate!”

I jerk my head to Becki Douglas. At least I think it’s still Douglas.

“Becki?”

She nods.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you since right after high school.” I give her a quick side hug.

She smiles. “Good to see you too. You may or may not know, but I’m head writer for the Apple Cart Weekly now.”

“That’s fitting, congratulations.”

“Thanks.” She clears her throat. “I wanted to see if I might could interview you for a feature story sometime.”

“That’s very thoughtful.” I snap my fingers. “I could get you some game tickets and let you interview more of the guys too. Really make a good overall story you could share online.”

“Uh, actually, I wanted to write a story about you moving back and reconnecting with Brooke.” She winces.

“Wait, what?” I tilt my head.

“I know it sounds cheesy, but I’m a sucker for a good love story, and—”

I shake my head. “Good to see you, Becki.”

I hurry toward the gate, more than a little ticked. Either we’re really getting older, or the desire for gossip has trickled down a generation. I expected this crap from the old ladies at church, but not a former classmate.

A teenager at the gate takes my five bucks, and I walk inside. Jeffrey’s team is on the field, and Bradley is umpiring again. I’ve taken maybe three steps inside when Aniston finds me and slaps my arm.

“Everyone is this way.”

I follow her without saying anything. Carlton is adjusting a tent, and I help him move it.

“Thanks. The sun is shifting.”

---