Page 13 of The Umpire Strikes Back

I glance down at my lap, picking at a loose thread on my sundress. “Right. Listen, I… well, I feel like I owe you an apology. I mean, I know you said it was the right call, but I also know how badly you wanted that out?—”

He waves me off. “Nah, don’t sweat it. It was the right call. I was mad at first, yeah, but I’d have called it too if I were you.” His tone is casual, but there’s a sincerity that warms my chest. “Besides, it led to all this, didn’t it?” He gestures around at the porch, Juniper’s giggles punctuating the air.

I smile, a little shy despite myself. “Yeah, I guess it did. Though I never thought officiating a minor league game could land me a dinner invitation.”

He chuckles, shifting his weight so that he drifts a bit closer to me. “Life’s weird like that.”

We fall into a comfortable silence. I rest my hands on my knees and tilt my head back to watch the sky. The last edge of the sun dips below the horizon, leaving ribbons of pink and gold streaked across the clouds. A soft breeze drifts by, bringing with it the faint scent of the ocean. Moments like this are what I’ve always loved most about moving to a town like Starlight Bay.

Ripley must sense my thoughts because he asks, “So why’d you move here, anyway? You said you were new in town?”

I nod. “Yeah. I came from a bigger city, but it was too… everything. Too crowded, too loud, too competitive. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it there at times, but I needed a break. Plus, I’ve always wanted to umpire somewhere a bit more laid-back, where I could still hone my skills but not get lost in the chaos. So when the chance opened up at Starlight Bay, I took it.”

“And how’s it working out so far?” he asks quietly.

I smile ruefully. “Well, I’m currently known as the ‘new girl who called a balk ontheRiptide Johnson,’ so there’s that.” When he laughs, I feel a tiny buzz of pride that I’ve made him laugh. “But honestly, it’s been good. I like it here. The beach, the slower pace, the sense of community. It’s a nice change.”

He nods, looking thoughtful. “I get that. I’ve been bouncing around the minors for years, so I’m used to traveling, but this place always felt more like home to me than anywhere else. Juniper loves it here, too. My sister, Hattie, moved here first, and when Juniper came along… it just felt right to stick around.”

Something tugs at my heart as I watch him talk about his daughter. There’s warmth in his voice, pride in every syllable. It reminds me of how I always wanted a close-knit family of my own, though it hasn’t happened yet. “She’s lucky to have you,” I say softly. “You’re a great dad, Ripley.”

He ducks his head, looking a little embarrassed. “Thanks,” he mumbles. “I’m just doing my best. It’s a team effort. Hattie’s a big help. But I worry sometimes… about what Juniper might be missing, you know?” His voice catches for a second, like he’s not sure how much to say.

I touch his arm lightly, the swing swaying with the motion. “From what I’ve seen, she’s a happy, confident kid. She adores you.” A small, soft laugh escapes me. “And she’s so proud of you. She couldn’t stop talking about your pitching skills during practice.”

Ripley’s lips quirk into a half-smile. “I guess that’s good to hear. She’s got a whole life ahead of her, so I just… yeah. I want her to have good influences.”

I’m about to say something more when Juniper bounds up the porch steps. Her cheeks are rosy from running around, and she clutches a whiffle ball in her hands. “Dad, Kali, come see me hit!” she exclaims, pointing excitedly to the makeshift home plate out in the yard.

Ripley chuckles. “We’ll be right there, Junebug.”

“Okay!” She zooms off again, leaving us in silence for another moment.

I sigh, realizing the time. The sun has fully set now, and the sky is dipping into twilight blues. “I should probably get going soon,” I say reluctantly. “It’s getting late.”

Ripley nods, though there’s a flicker of disappointment in his eyes—or maybe I’m imagining it. “Yeah, you probably should. Don’t want you getting stuck in the dark.”

We stand up from the swing, and I smooth down my sundress, trying not to feel too self-conscious about the lingering closeness between us. We head down into the yard to watch Juniper take a few more enthusiastic swings at the whiffle ball, cheering when she finally makes contact and sends it sailing a few yards. Her giddy smile makes the whole day worth it.

Eventually, I gather my things, and Juniper pouts. “Do you really have to go now, Coach Kali? Can’t you stay for a little while longer?”

My heart twists. “I wish I could, but I have to get home. How about we pick up where we left off next practice?”

She makes a show of sighing dramatically, but her eyes are dancing. “Fine. But you better come back soon.”

Ripley walks me to the front door, the porch light illuminating us in a gentle glow. Neither of us says much at first, just exchanging small smiles. Finally, I break the silence. “Thanks for tonight,” I say. “For dinner, and… well, for not kicking me out when I showed up.”

“When you showed up,” he whispers, his eyes drop to check out my sundress. He chuckles. “I didn’t mind it one bit, actually.”

A swirl of warmth blooms in my chest at his words, but I force myself to keep it together. “Well then, maybe I’ll come back,” I say, flashing him a quick grin before stepping onto the porch.

“Looking forward to it,” he replies, leaning against the doorframe with that slow, crooked smile that I’m starting to find dangerously appealing.

I head off, heart thumping, and can’t resist one last wave at Juniper, who’s standing in the doorway looking half sleepy, half thrilled. The evening air is cooler now, brushing against my skin as I walk toward my car parked along the street. The lamp posts cast long shadows on the sidewalk, and the ocean breeze carries a soft hush.

I start the engine with a quick twist of the key, and give one last wave as I drive off.

Once I’m a few blocks away, I dig my phone out of my purse. Bristol picks up on the second ring, sounding out of breath. “Hey, you,” she says. “How’d it go?”

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