Page 91 of Mom Ball

Brother Johnny is barely through the announcement side of the bulletin when Nate stretches his arm across the back of the pew and cups his hand on my shoulder. Warmth shoots down my spine, and I relax against him.

Mumbled whispers come from behind us, which is to be expected. I keep my eyes forward and regain focus on the preacher by the time we start singing.

On the third song, the choir director asks everyone to stand. Nate slides his arm away from me, but stands even closer as we’re singing. He holds a hymnal where we can both see it.

I watch Timothy from the corner of my eye. He looks as content as I feel. Maybe this really can work, not just for Nate and me, but for everyone.

I’m almost certain Timothy would welcome the news that Nate is his father. Same for my parents, even though I’m somewhat certain they may know.

Of course, there will be a fair amount of backlash from people in the town. Some blaming me for never telling Nate, and others blaming Nate for getting me pregnant.

Whatever ridicule from the peanut gallery awaits, I can handle. Heck, I lived through moving back here in my second trimester, young and single.

What I can’t handle is hurting Nate or Timothy—especially both.

The song ends, and we take our seats. Nate’s arm finds its way behind me again, and I comfortably welcome his touch. Brother Johnny resumes his position behind the pulpit and begins his sermon.

Now that Nate is here beside me, my focus has returned. It’s like I’ve gotten my fix and can go on with life as usual.

Brother Johnny talks about Issac and his love for Rebecca. He uses them to make a point about God’s plan, but I get caught up in their love story. I can’t help but feel like Nate came back at the right time and that we are meant to be together.

When the message comes to a close and the preacher asks us to bow our heads, I lift up a silent prayer. I really hope God’s plan for my life involves Nate. If not, He best get started on changing my heart, because it’s totally in love with Nate.

The same as it has been for forever.

* * *

Nate

I put my arm around Brooke in church. That’s pretty much all it takes in Apple Cart to come out as an official couple. Last night went so well, I figured I’d go ahead and rip the Band-Aid off before people started making up assumptions.

Several older people followed us out like a pack of zombies. Also like a pack of zombies, we managed to outpace them. Still, it changed my mind about asking Brooke and Timothy to lunch at Mary’s.

At least when you’re publicly together in church, nobody talks to you. They only talk about you, then follow it up with a “bless your heart.” In the restaurant, there’s no way of restraining them.

Before the zombies could wheel their walkers across the gravel, I asked Brooke if they’d like to come to my house for an early dinner.

All afternoon, I’ve been worrying over making my house look like someone actually lives here. Turns out that’s not easy when you have five-thousand square feet to fill with little more than sports memorabilia and a recliner. Good thing I got Carolina to order some furniture for the place after we closed.

The ancient doorbell rings, and my stomach plummets. They’re here. I hurry to the front door and pull it open. Brooke and Timothy smile up at me.

“Watch your step.” I take Brooke’s hand as they step down into the living room. I joke with my teammates that my Alabama mansion is so fancy, it has front steps inside.

“This place is even more beautiful from the inside.” Brooke beams as her eyes scan the detailed molding.

“The kitchen’s this way. After we eat, I can give y’all a tour.”

They follow me to the kitchen. A crispy scent catches my attention, and I find an oven mitt. It’s a hideous fish with an open mouth. Jack gave it to me as a housewarming gift. The dude who owns the hunting camp—not the kid who pees on everything.

Brooke’s eyes widen when I pull a pan from the oven. “Uh, is that a glove?”

“Yeah. A first baseman’s glove for Timothy.”

Timothy gasps, and Brooke scrunches her nose. “Why was it in the oven?”

“To soften it. New gloves are a beast. This will help break it in quicker.” I set the pan on the flat stovetop.

She shrugs. “As long as we’re not eating that.”

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