He shrugs as if that’s not a real concern . . . or possibility.

“Besides,” I say, “I hope they have fun and make friends. That’s the best part of this game.”

“Sure it is. Sure it is,” he says, nodding. “Well, the doctor cleared me to get back to doing stuff again. I have to take it a bit easier than normal—hit a six and a half or a seven instead of a ten like I usually do. But I got my boy working the butcher shop, and that helps a lot.”

I get what he’s saying. He’s ready to come back.

“Oh,” I say, stumbling around for the right words. “That’s good news.”

“Yeah. So if you need help out here, you just let me know. I know Bud turned over the team to you this year, but they always feel like mine. Guess it’s because this age group has been mine for the last eleven years.”

He laughs as if he’s just being conversational and not confrontational. I’m not sure about that.

“I can add you to the group chat so you can see when we’ll be practicing,” I say with more than a small dose of caution. “It’s been hit-or-miss with the weather, but we’re out here two or three times a week at least.”

“That’d be great.”

“Great.” I give him a forced smile. “I need to get this stuff picked up and get out of here.”

“Sure thing.” He takes a step back. “Nice to talk to you, Beck.”

“You too, Ted.”

I give him a final nod. I turn toward home plate and make quick work of getting things put in the shed so I can get to my girl.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN PALMER

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

PALMER

Hey, Ethan!” I poke my head out of my bedroom. “Will you call King Pin Alley and see how busy they are?”

“Why?”

His voice comes barreling down the hallway in a distinct tone that tells me he’s already turned on a video game.

I tap my face with the towel in my hand and sigh. “Because I don’t want to get down there and not have a table.”

“You can’t call?”

“I’m trying to get cleaned up! And I have to text Val not to come over!”

“Full box! Two hundred! On me! On me! I’m lagging!”

I hold my hands out in front of me. “What language is this child even speaking right now?”

“I lagged out!” Ethan yells from his bedroom. “Dang it! Why is our internet so bad?”

“Forget it,” I mumble and then go back into my bedroom. I grab my phone and type a quick note to Val that our girls’ night is postponed.