Page 95 of Mom Ball

I spin to face her. “Wait, so everyone else knew about the scrimmage?”

“Yeah.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell your assistant coach?”

Morgan crosses her arms. “Because my assistant coach would not be in favor of it.”

I raise a brow. She’s got me there.

“I can keep score, or maybe be the cheerleader.” I clap my hands and smile.

Morgan frowns and shakes her head. “I have coaches and scorekeepers coming.”

“Wait, what?”

Before she can answer, Isabella and a few of her softball friends come from the opposite end of the park.

Morgan wiggles her eyebrows. “Here comes the boom.”

She whistles to get our kids’ attention. They come running like a pack of dogs. At this point in the season, they have come to expect her signal.

Four teenage girls with long legs crowd around the fence. Every kid’s eyes are on Morgan, except for Maribelle’s twins. Charlie and Jack stare at the softball girls like Morgan stares at those all-inclusive island-vacation ads polluting her Facebook feed.

“Afternoon, Gray Armadillos.” Morgan slaps a bat against her hand. “We are going to play a little practice game tonight. Parents versus kids.”

The kids go crazy cheering.

“I don’t think they understand,” Easton mumbles.

“Are they kids or adults?” Charlie points to the teenagers, bringing his finger dangerously close to Isabella’s chest.

She leans back and scrunches her nose. Maribelle slaps his hand down and gives him a stern look.

“They are half-adult, half-kid, and they are our coaches.” Morgan smiles. “Armadillos, meet some of the sophomores on the Apple Cart County High School softball team.”

The girls wave. Jack is close to drooling as he waves back with a dumbfounded look. I sincerely hope their dad doesn’t act this way. As much as he works out of town, Maribelle may be in trouble. Although I’m not certain a lot of women frequent offshore oil rigs.

Morgan hands the bat to her daughter. “Passing the torch to you, Isabella. Take it away, honey.”

Isabella introduces her friends Suzie, Ainsley, and Daphne. They split up, and Ainsley and Daphne coach us. Easton pops his neck and jogs in place a little. Either he’s preparing for a boxing ring or he had one of those discarded Monster drinks. I narrow my eyes at Aniston.

She takes a step closer and talks from the corner of her mouth. “He found his first gray hair the other day and is trying to reclaim his youth.”

I cover my mouth to hide a laugh.

“That’s exactly the reaction Adrianne had when he asked her about hair dye.”

So much for hiding my laughter. Aniston bites her lip and smiles.

“All right, people. Let’s get our teams ready!” Morgan calls.

We join the other adults on the left side of the field and listen for the batting order. It’s a little like middle school kickball, waiting for Daphne to call my name. I’m near the bottom of the order, which is to be expected. They put Easton at cleanup batter. Must be the eye black. Or the bandana. Probably the combination of both.

I take my place at the edge of the fence beside Tami, who’s wearing high heels designed like baseballs.

“Tami?”

She glances at me, wiping bright red lipstick across her mouth.

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