Page 12 of The Foul Out

I turned at the sound of the female’s voice and was greeted by a gorgeous brunette sporting sky-high heels with the red bottoms.

“Hannah?” I asked.

The smile she gave me was genuine. “Thanks for coming. Again, we would have sent a car.”

She’d told me that when I called to let her know we were running behind. She’d even offered to have one of the players, Emerson, I think, stop on his way. But the fanfare was all too much. Hannah tipped her head my way, and a big man dressed in a polo that saidsecuritystepped forward and took the booster seats from me.

“We’ll hang on to those for you,” he assured me.

Hannah crouched so she was at eye level with my daughter. “You must be Piper.”

Piper stared over the woman’s shoulder. “Last night there were thirty-nine thousand people here. It was the largest crowd Lang Field has had in the twenty-six years it has been open. The added standing room near the outfield was a wise choice.”

Hannah’s blue eyes flicked to me for a beat before refocusing. “You’re a smart girl.”

My daughter blinked at the stadium. “Can we go in? We are late.”

“I hungry,” Sam said. Although he’d had toast, a banana, two drinkable yogurts, and a scrambled egg since he’d woken up four hours ago, my almost four-year-old was always ravenous.

Hannah gave Sam a soft smile. “We have fruit and bagels set up in the team room.”

My son’s eyes widened when he realized Hannah was speaking to him, and he pressed his face into my hip, hiding.

I smoothed his soft red hair, my heart warming. He was shy, especially with unfamiliar adults. Day care been good for him, and his apprehension when kids were around had lessened, but now that the kids were no longer welcome there, I was pretty certain I’d have to bring him to work and keep him entertained in my office. Although he would love being with me all the time again, it would only set back the progress we’d made with his separation issues.

I bent and lifted Sam into my arms, silently reassuring him that I wouldn’t leave him. His little body relaxed a fraction in my hold.

Hannah gave me a sheepish smile, surely realizing that her attention had made Sam uncomfortable, and focused again on Piper. “You’re right on time. We’re just waiting on Christian Damiano. He had to stop on his way and pick up a friend. He’s bringing Puff to play. Did you know that we’re the only major league team to ever have a puffin?”

“Puff is an Atlantic puffin,” Piper said. “They are common in the northern Atlantic coastal regions. Westman Island lighthouse currently holds the record for the most puffins. About fifty-six thousand puffins were on that island at once. Not just one, like in Lang Field.”

Hannah tilted her head and glanced at me, causing Sam to bury his face in my neck and rub his freckled nose against my collarbone.

“But you get to see one up close and personal here, Pipe.” I sighed.

The poor woman was struggling to understand how to interact with my daughter. Most people did, so I couldn’t hold that against her.

“Lang Field holds the record for the most no-hitters. Sixteen total. Kyle Bosco holds the record for most runs scored at Lang Field. He’s been with the team for five seasons, and he has already scored 485 runs at home. Emerson Knight beat him this season with 113 runs.”

“I think you know more about the team than I do,” Hannah said.

Piper only blinked, gaze averted.

“She loves the stats,” I said.

“Can we go in now?” Piper asked.

Hannah led the way, talking to Piper over her shoulder. “I hope you’re excited to meet the players. We have Damiano and Puff, along with Knight, Price, and Bosco coming to hang out.”

I’d heard the names. How could I not? My daughter spit out facts about them on the regular. But other than Kyle Bosco, whose poster hung above her bed, I couldn’t pick any of them out of a lineup. And I couldn’t say I was thrilled at the idea of the bird. He was adorable in the pictures and videos that Piper had watched eight hundred thousand times, but I didn’t want topass on my irrational fear of birds to my kids. So I tried to avoid situations where I’d be near them.

“How does that sound?” When Piper said nothing, Hannah glanced over her shoulder again, giving me a genuine smile. “Ready to go in? I promise everyone is happy you’re here.”

I held back a snort. I doubted any of these baseball players cared that we were here. But hopefully Hannah’s footage of us together would put a stop to all the hate.

Piper peered from side to side as we walked through the wrought-iron gates to enter Lang Field. Through the brick archways, we made our way into the stadium. The place was eerily quiet without the people.

When Piper took off running toward the wall of balls, I hollered for her to stop. But she paid me no mind.

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