In the fourth inning, she was at bat with runners on second and third. A hit by her would load the bases. She looked around again and missed one pitch.
“Strike one!” the ump yelled.
“Go, Amanda!” I screamed.
Mom yelled, “Yeah, Amanda! Come on! You can do it!”
The next pitch was a ball, which Amanda didn’t swing at.
“Good eye!” Mom yelled, because grown-ups loved yelling good eye for some reason. Other people yelled it too.
Amanda looked up.
“Strike two!”
“Come on, Amanda! Swing at something!” I started chanting, “Amanda! Amanda!”
The next pitch, she hit it into the outfield. I screamed as it soared toward Sophie Rodriguez and the runner on third came home. The third base coach yelled for the next runner to keep going. The second runner scored just as Sophie caught the ball.
I was screaming. We were all screaming as Amanda walked back.
“Whoo, Amanda!” I yelled.
“But she’s out?” Mom said.
“Yeah, but she brought in two RBIs.”
As I started explaining the concept of a sacrifice fly to Mom, I noticed Amanda looking up into the stands again.
Jackie still wasn’t there.
Amanda’s team ended up winning two to one.
When we went down to wait for her, her mother still wasn’t there.
“Great game!” I told her when she showed up.
“It was okay.”
“Yeah, okay. They’d have scored zero runs without you. You’re the best player on the team, probably the whole league.”
Other people were even coming up and patting Amanda’s shoulder. No one did that on the boys’ teams. Derek Jeter himself could have been playing on our team, and no dad would have admitted he was better than their kid.
Amanda was back to looking around. Kids had finished with snacks, and people were packing to leave. The next team was setting up.
“We can still go to the movie even if she doesn’t come,” I said finally. “My mom would take us.” I knew my mom would prefer it. She was only going because she didn’t trust Jackie.
“Like I want to go to stupid Game Plan if she doesn’t show up. It was a dumb idea.”
Beside me, I saw Mom about to tell Amanda not to say stupid and dumb, but she stopped herself.
“We can play at my house,” I said. “Or yours.”
“I don’t want to.” Amanda looked around for Tim, who was talking to a parent behind her. She tugged his arm. “Can we leave now?”
“Give me a sec, Amanda.”
“I want to go home!”
“Hold on,” Tim said.
That was when Jackie finally showed up. She was all dressed up in a short skirt with high heels, so she stuck out among the other moms in jeans and T-shirts. Her hair looked all fancy too, and her makeup, with bright-blue eye shadow.
“Mandy!” she yelled when she saw Amanda. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Amanda ran up to her. “You missed the game. It was so great. I made four outs and got two RBIs!”
“What’s that?” Jackie looked confused.
“It’s where the batter hits the ball where she’ll get out, but she brings another runner in.” Mom used her newfound knowledge. “It’s called a sacrifice fly.”
“That’s great, honey,” Jackie said. “And did you get any runs yourself?”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “No. Those were the only runs we scored. I brought them in. We won two to one.”
“Well, that’s good anyway. I have some good news myself. I was late because I had a job interview.”
No one said anything, and Jackie looked around like she was trying to figure out why we didn’t. Then she added, “I got the job!”
“That’s great, Mom,” Amanda said. “Is it at Macy’s or Bloomingdale’s?”
“Well, no. Those are my dream jobs, it’s true. But baby steps first. This one’s at Bed Bath & Beyond, and once I’ve worked long enough to get a discount, I can use it to fix up a room for you and Casey at Grandma’s house.”
“One room for both of us?”
“Your grandma doesn’t live in a mansion, Amanda.”
“Does it have to be pink?” Amanda asked, which surprised me because Amanda’s room at home was pink. Then I realized Jackie might have decorated it.
“I will consult you,” Jackie said.
Tim finally finished with the parent. “Sorry about that. Everyone thinks their kid should be the star, when clearly”—he leaned over and whispered to Amanda— “my kid is the star.”
Amanda giggled.
“Ahem,” Jackie said. “Hi, Tim.”
“Ah, hey, Jackie.” Tim looked at Amanda. “So you still want to go home?”
“No, it’s okay. Mom got a job.”
“Great news,” Tim said. Then he turned to my mother to make sure she was driving and ask what time we’d be home.
Jackie did show up for Amanda’s game the next week and some other weeks when she didn’t have work. I came once and saw her, wearing green, the team color, including a big bow in her hair. She sat near the dugout with Casey and talked to Tim between plays, like she was his girlfriend. She must have studied up, because she definitely knew what an RBI was and the infield fly rule. She even had opinions on bunting.
“I think they might get back together,” Amanda told me, gesturing to them talking after the game.
“Do you want them to?” I asked.