Page 84 of Mom Ball

Morgan snatches my arm and drags me away from the comfort of Nate. I slog behind her as she grabs Carlton and motions for Aniston to join us too. Carlton grins at the honor. He deserves it. The man may pitch like a golfer, but he somehow got the job done.

“And now for the winners of today’s 8U lower bottom bracket, the Gray Armadillos.”

Everyone cheers, and even the opposing team gives us a nod of approval. I ignore the words “bottom bracket” and focus on “winners.” A positive outlook on life has kept me sane so far, so why abandon it now?

Bradley hands Morgan the bag, and she digs out a ring. It’s pink. She frowns, then shrugs. “Andrew.”

He hurries up, still wearing catching gear. The rest of the team follows until everyone is wearing a ring. Tami’s girls appreciate the pink, but I’m not sure anyone else does.

We clap and snap a ton of photos. I get several of Reece and make a mental note to print some for his parents, since I assume they don’t do email either. He poses with the ring up high, then runs to his parents. “Dad, Mom, I got Marvolo Gaunt’s ring!”

I haven’t a clue what that means, but they all seem excited about it.

The rest of the kids scatter and play around until Aniston makes them help her pick up the dugout.

Morgan gets Bradley’s attention before he leaves the field. “What’s up with the Barbie pink rings?”

“Oh, this bracket was added last minute after they had more teams sign up.”

Morgan narrows her eyes as if needing more explanation.

Bradley sighs and leans closer to us, where the kids can’t hear. “They’re leftover from a breast cancer awareness softball tournament last fall.”

“And we couldn’t do any better?” she asks.

“Hey, you’re on the park board, not me.” He lifts his palms. “I’m just your friendly neighborhood sheriff trying to make an extra buck while keeping the park safe.”

Morgan nods. “We appreciate your work.”

“Thanks.” He gathers his gear and heads toward the fence.

One of Tami’s girls comes to her crying. A stone fell out of her ring. She tries to fix it.

Jeffrey walks by, picking up trash. Tami screams his name, and he straightens.

“Why did you give our kids these cheap rings?”

He slings the bag of trash over his shoulder and marches our way like a mad, sports-enthused Santa.

“Those are quality softball rings.”

“Softball. We’re playing baseball.”

“Yeah, well your kids are girls!”

She snaps her head like a scene in Mean Girls.

“If they’d played softball where they belong, they would get these all the time.”

“I told you the sign-ups were full.” She grits her teeth.

I stand beside Nate and Morgan in awe, watching the equally matched Tami and Jeffrey go at it with nothing but a chain-link fence between them.

“You should be on time.”

“Why don’t you get back to work and finish taking out the trash.” She pops her hands on her hips and does the head thing again.

“You mean like the time I took you to Double Drive?”

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