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Erica thought that if the other players were that good, they would have beaten Summer for her spot and she wondered if that was part of her daughter’s decision. Better to quit on top than be forced out.
Was that the right lesson to learn? Should Erica force her to practice this summer and then try out in the new school year? But to what end? Summer was a good kid. If she was done, then she was done.
“You’ll finish out the season,” she said.
“Of course.” Summer rolled her eyes. “Mom, I would never let down the team.”
As she spoke, she pulled the band from her ponytail. Her long brown hair tumbled over her shoulders. Erica tried not to wince at the split ends and uneven cut. Her fingers itched to get in there with a pair of scissors and take off about three inches and add some layers. Maybe a couple of highlights. Nothing wild, just a subtle brightness here and—
“Stop mentally doing my hair.”
Erica held in a smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What else is on your list?”
“Allison needs baby stuff. She’s weeks away from Bethany being born and she doesn’t have anything. Shouldn’t she have little clothes and diapers and wipes and those jumpy-chair things?”
“She should have all those things,” Erica said slowly, typing into her computer. “I’ve been so caught up in getting her settled and everything else, I wasn’t thinking about the upcoming birth.”
She searched for a generic list for “what do I need when I bring home a baby.”
She carried her laptop over to the sofa and sat next to her daughter. They both stared at the long list.
“We’re going to need a moving van,” Summer murmured. “And a bigger house.”
Erica laughed. “It’s not that bad. You gave her the big bedroom, and the laundry room has tons of storage. She can use that. I’m not sure what she has from when Jackson was born. If she was planning on having more kids, she would have kept all that stuff.”
Summer looked at her. “Did you keep my stuff?”
“I did. For at least five years.” She remembered the boxes full of tiny clothes, most of them so girlie, with ribbons and bows.
“I dressed you in pink. Oh, there was the occasional trim in teal or white, but otherwise pink. It was all so pretty and delicate.” She smiled at her daughter. “I’m sure you hated it.”
“I’ve seen the pictures.” Summer leaned against her. “I did hate it but I looked cute.”
“The cutest.”
“Why didn’t you and Dad have more kids?”
“I couldn’t do it, time-wise. I wanted another child, but with you and work and Dad, I was already scrambling every second of every day. I was afraid I couldn’t be there enough, and no kid wants to feel like their mother doesn’t have time for them.”
Summer drew back a little and angled toward her. “You come to every softball game.”
“I do.”
“That’s a lot of time.”
“You’re worth it.” Erica smiled. “I pray for rain a lot.”
Her daughter laughed. “Sometimes we do, too. But only if we’re winning.”
“Sure. Why would you want to take the loss?”
Summer stared at her. “Are you mad about Allison?”
“In what way?”
“That she’s here, that I guilted you.”
“I’m not. Surprisingly, I like her very much. She’s a good person. I’m sorry for what she’s going through and I’m happy we can help.” Peter was a total douchebag, but that wasn’t news.
