Page 85 of Mom Ball

Despite wearing a short, tight skirt, Tami scales the fence in a matter of seconds. I could’ve used those skills on the cattle gate.

Morgan slides her phone in front of us and laughs.

“Are you videoing this?” Nate asks.

She nods. “I have a whole collection of blackmail footage just in case. Most of it from the Pig.”

Nate looks at me with concern. I shrug.

Tami leaps on top of Jeffrey and starts slapping at his chest and face. He drops the garbage bag and holds her at arm’s length. Cans and nacho trays roll down the hill in slow motion.

We all watch in shock for a minute. Then Nate shakes his head and rushes toward them. He pulls Tami off Jeffrey and holds an arm out to keep him back.

“Y’all need to stop. We have kids here. And what are all these other teams going to think about our park?”

Jeffrey snorts. “Y’all just don’t get it. I made up this bracket to give you losers a chance to win something. If this were travel ball, y’all would’ve went home hours ago.”

My stomach drops as I watch our kids’ faces fall. Aniston consoles them, then marches from the dugout.

“Jeffrey, you need to stop. We still won this bracket and earned these crappy American Girl Doll rings.” She snarls her nose at a ring on the kid beside her. “And give it a rest with the travel ball. Nobody here cares.”

“Fine.” Jeffrey huffs, then snatches the bag and stomps away. He stops after a few steps and calls back, “But you’ll be the one laughing when my kids get full college rides for playing ball.” He turns his back and trudges toward the trash can.

Aniston calls loudly after him, “Whatever you say, but errbody knows those kids aren’t going to college!”

Easton puts his arm around her. “Let it go, babe.”

She sighs and looks past him to Morgan and me. “This is not what I signed up for.”

Morgan snickers, but I sympathize. Who knew kids’ baseball would turn into a Jerry Springer episode?

CHAPTER 18

Brooke

“Mama, I don’t care if we have pink rings.” Timothy holds up the gaudy thing and grins. “We earned these.”

“Yes, son, you did.”

“We did, as a team.”

I smile at him from the rearview mirror. It makes my mama heart happy that he’s having a good time with his teammates.

His bat and bag stick up beside him, partially blocking my view. Now I get why so many of my friends have SUVs and minivans. I assumed I wouldn’t ever need an upgrade with one child. That was before hauling tons of baseball supplies.

Today I even carried a small heater and fan since the weather changes several times during an all-day tournament.

I sigh. It was fun, but I’m glad today is over. We’re a few miles from our road, and all I can think about is a hot shower and my favorite pajama pants.

The sign for the orchard comes into view, and I turn down the gravel road. It crunches under my tires, making me relax. I’ve long associated that sound with the promise of home.

I park in the garage off the carriage house and cut the engine. “Get your bag, and we’ll worry about everything in the trunk later.”

“Okay.” Timothy hops out and beats me to the front door.

I unlock it and all but fall inside. “Do you mind if I take a shower first?”

“No, ma’am.” Timothy drops his bag by the door and goes outside.

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