Page 94 of Mom Ball

We all have places to be and things to do. Hopefully one day those places and things will align more than they do now.

“Y’all call me whenever, and I’ll call and text, too, while I’m gone.”

Timothy nods and I smile.

Nate steps onto the porch, and I follow him. He stands on the bottom step and turns to me. We’re now close to eye level. My heart jumps near my throat at the memory of how we used to always stand with him one step down. It made eye contact and kissing much easier with our height difference.

He cocks his mouth into a half grin and focuses on my eyes. “I love you, Brooke.”

My mouth parts, but I’m speechless. That’s the first time he’s told me that as an adult.

“You don’t have to say anything back, but I had to tell you that before I leave.”

I want to say it back so badly, but my throat is hot and clogged like I’ve suddenly swallowed a lit piece of charcoal. I clear my throat, then manage to squeak out a single-word answer.

“Same.”

Not the most thoughtful or romantic response when the love of your life confesses he still loves you after a nine-year absence. But it’s enough to make Nate kiss me on the cheek before he gets in his truck.

I sigh as he drives away. And just like that, I’m back to a mundane Monday.

CHAPTER 20

Brooke

The best way to break up anything mundane is for Morgan to text you that she has a surprise for practice.

Per her request, I’m wearing gym clothes and tennis shoes, and I brought a cooler of waters. I’m not sure what she has planned, but at least I’ll be comfortable and hydrated.

Timothy squeezes his new glove open and closed. I had to pry it off his hand before he got out at school. I’m not sure if it’s more about the glove or that it came from Nate. Either way, he’s treated it like we would a prize-winning bushel of apples.

I roll the cooler past several fields used by other teams. Morgan waves me over from the T-ball field. She’s got to be kidding. It’s little more than a glorified circle of mud with a rickety fence around it.

A swarm of gnats funnel around us as if warning me to turn back before it’s too late. I’m more scared of Morgan than gnats, so I trudge on. Timothy follows behind me, coddling his glove.

“Hey, girl. Park that Igloo over here.” Morgan fans her hands toward the fence.

I park the cooler and drop the handle. The fence bounces when it makes contact. If anyone has a chance of hitting something over a fence, it’s today.

“We’re scrimmaging the boys today!” Morgan slaps her hands together and rubs them like she’s scheming.

“We’re what?”

She scans my Nike shorts and shoes. “You’re dressed for it, and everyone else will be too. We’ve got water. What else could we need?”

“Uh, younger knees and an energy drink?”

She snaps her fingers. “Oh shoot. I could’ve gotten those out-of-date Monster drinks we chucked when restocking the Pig.”

“I think we’re good.” I wince.

Note to self: Never accept prepackaged snacks from Morgan unless the date is visible.

She grins. I turn and follow her gaze to the rest of the team and parents. Easton in particular catches my attention.

He’s dressed in a camo shirt with a flag bandana and eye black. Until now, he’s had two looks: doctor scrubs and lawn-care casual. This is the only time I’ve seen him wear shorts except at the pool, which would explain the huge skin-tone difference in his legs and arms.

“Look at Rambo.” Morgan punches his arm. “I like it.”

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