“So has it been hard living with Chase?” she asked with a gentle smile. Her blonde hair was hanging loose around her face, framing her cute features.
“Umm, it hasn't been too bad,” I responded lamely. I wasn't sure where she and Chase stood and I wasn't about to divulge the fact that in the last two weeks he’d enjoyed walking in his towel back to his room after every one of his showers. It was slowly driving me insane.
“I can't imagine living with a boy,” she said, almost wistfully. “Uh, I mean because they can be slobs,” she recovered, scrunching her nose.
I shrugged. “Chase is good about cleaning up after himself.”
“Ah, speaking of your roomie, there he is,” she said, pointing out toward the field.
Chase was warming up on the pitcher’s mound. He filled out the gray uniform so that the pants were tight around his thighs and legs, and the top stretched across his broad shoulders and trim waist. He rocked back on his left foot, planted his right against the white rubber strip, then coiled and uncoiled his body like a spring. His fastball made a crisp popping sound when it sunk into the catcher’s mitt. Once, twice, three times he repeated the motions and I watched, completely enraptured by his confidence on the mound. His power and precision were amazing to behold, and I cursed myself for missing so many of his games.
“He's one of the best pitchers in the state. He might get drafted for the big leagues, but if not, he’ll definitely play college ball,” Kimberly said, pulling me out of my haze.
I turned to find her watching him with stars in her eyes, and I realized I’d looked just like her a moment before.
A few minutes later, I spotted my dad standing at the entrance of the dugout, leaning against the metal frame in his own version of the team’s uniform. He spit out the shell of a sunflower seed and patted Chase’s shoulder as he ran by. Whatever encouragement he’d offered, I couldn’t hear it up in the stands.
“I'll be right back,” I said to Kimberly as I hopped down the stairs toward my dad. My movement caught his eye and for a moment he let his “coach” face slip. He smiled wide and tugged his hat from his head. There was a layer of sweat collected on his tan forehead, but he wiped it off with his forearm.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a few women watching his every move; I wondered how many of them wished he'd finally settle back down. I shivered at the thought. I wasn't ready for another mom figure; I was still trying to get over the first one.
When he hit the railing, I bent down so he could reach up and give me a quick, sweaty hug.
“Hi Dad.”
“Hi Lil. I'm glad you're here,” he said with a warm smile.
“Wouldn't miss a scrimmage for the world,” I joked as I stood back to my full height.
He laughed and shook his head. “Wait for me after the game. We'll go grab some pizza.”
“Okay. Good luck,” I said, starting to edge away from the railing just as Chase walked out of the dugout. His baseball cap was pulled low, blocking the light from his hazel eyes so that they were shadowed and dark. His smile slowly unpeeled as his gaze locked onto me. I could practically hear his thought: You showed up. We didn't say anything in that brief moment. The scrimmage was starting soon and he needed to stay focused, but that smile unraveled the strings around my heart, loosening their grip so that he could take hold even more. I shrugged and he smiled even wider, revealing his set of dimples before his teammates stepped out of the dugout to take the field.
He moved to stand in line and I stepped back to take my seat beside Kimberly. As each player from Blackwater was announced, his “Diamond Girl” stood and cheered with a sign that had the player's name on it. I tried to tell myself it didn't mean anything when Kimberly stood for Chase. She waved her sign wildly, causing a few pieces of glitter to fly off and land on my legs. I stared down at the gold specs as a dark, twisted feeling started to overtake my thoughts.
I’m a fraud.
Kimberly had been there watching and supporting Chase for the last two years. She made signs for him and wore his name on her shirt, and two weeks earlier I hadn’t even been on speaking terms with him.
“Sorry about all this obnoxiousness,” Kimberly laughed, setting her poster down at her feet. “It's all tradition so we kind of just go with it.”
I smiled tightly. “No, it's okay. I'm really glad Chase has you.”
She stared at me for a moment, confused, but I turned toward the field before she could speak up.