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Erica sat on the hard bleachers, watching her daughter’s team annihilate their opponents. In the last inning, they were ahead by a comfortable eight runs, with the visitors at bat. One more out and they were done.
The weather had become a little more springlike with blue skies and temperatures flirting with sixty. Practically tank-top-and-shorts weather for the Pacific Northwest.
The teen at bat fouled the ball for the second time. Erica watched the third base player run to catch it, but she missed, so the at bat continued.
So strange about last night, she thought. Killion’s story about how they met. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to him in private so wasn’t sure he’d been telling the truth or exaggerating a little for the sake of entertainment. Not that he usually did that, but honestly she couldn’t imagine him arranging to sit next to her so he could get to know her. She simply wasn’t that interesting.
The sound of a bat hitting a ball drew her attention back to the game. The ball went up and over the head of the pitcher. Summer, at second base, called that she had it. The ball dropped right into the center of her glove as if that had been the plan all along. The team and most of the people watching cheered.
Erica stood with the other parents and began to climb down. She would congratulate her daughter before going back to work. But halfway across the field, she saw a tall, lanky boy get to Summer first. He stood close, his head bent toward her, his expression intense. Summer spoke, then nodded. Erica wished she was closer so she could hear what they were saying.
As far as she knew, Summer wasn’t dating. She rarely mentioned guys or going out, except in the big groups her generation favored. Had she finally found someone who interested her? Was there a way to find out without getting an eye roll?
“Erica!”
She turned and saw Crystal approaching. Erica froze, not sure if the other mother wanted to gossip about Peter or hit her up for the spa day thing. She wasn’t in the mood for either.
“Hi,” she said, keeping her voice and her expression neutral. “Great game.”
“Yes, it was. So we were talking about our spa day and we’d like to get it scheduled. The school year will be over before we know it and summer is always so busy with vacations and that sort of thing.” She named a date, then paused hopefully.
Spa day it was, she thought. A more annoying but safer topic than Peter’s current situation.
“Did you all figure out what treatments you want?” she asked. “Once you know that, call scheduling and they’ll get it set up. Use my name. If there’s a problem, you can text me, but I’m sure it will be fine.”
“Is the, ah, lunch included?” Crystal asked. “We were picturing ourselves on the terrace, overlooking the lake.”
“I’ll make sure it happens.” Then she would charge them for every bite.
“That’s so great.” Crystal beamed at her. “We’re excited. This is going to be our year-end party. You know, just moms.” She paused, her smile becoming a little more forced. “Did you want to, ah, join us? I mean you’re a mom, too. Right?”
Erica wondered about Crystal’s internal battle—her need to do the right thing by asking contrasted with her obvious desire to have Erica refuse the invitation.
“I’ll be working that day,” Erica told her. She gave a brief wave. “Call scheduling.”
“I will.”
Erica moved toward Summer. As she approached, the guy walked away. Her daughter started toward her.
“Great catch!” Erica hugged her. “That ball had your name on it or whatever the phrase is.”
Summer laughed. “Oh, Mom. It’s funny when you try to say jock stuff.”
“I live to amuse.” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was too close. “I saw you talking to a boy.”
“Don’t even think about it. Donovan’s a friend, nothing more.”
“It’s fine. I was just asking.”
“You don’t ask, you emotionally lurk and try to find out about my personal life.”
“I’m interested. I can’t help it.”
Summer stopped walking and faced her. “He’s just a friend,” she repeated. “I mean that. He broke up with his girlfriend and he’s been asking me what to do.”
“If he wants real advice, he should talk to your grandmother. Between you and me, she’s the one with the most actual experience in the dating world.”
As she’d hoped, Summer laughed. “You’re right, but I don’t think he’d be that comfortable talking about his love life with a woman who just turned seventy.”
