“I’m Mindy Kostis. Good to see you again.”

“Oh, Mindy, right. Hi.” Susan raced to remember what Neil had told her about Mindy. Nice lady, doctor husband, popular son. Evan was the catcher. Raz talked about Evan, too, though Susan got the impression that Evan was too popular a kid to be friendly with Raz.

“I just wanted to tell you, I’m so sorry.” Mindy’s face flushed with genuine emotion.

“Thanks.” Susan swallowed hard, unsure what she meant. Ryan? Neil? Pick a calamity, any calamity.

“Neil was such a terrific guy. He used to help me so much at the games. We’re all missing him today. I know you must be, most of all.”

“Thank you.” Susan’s throat thickened. Meanwhile, if Mindy knew about Ryan, it didn’t show. Maybe this was the best way to handle the situation, just pretend it hadn’t happened.

“The Boosters would like to make an impromptu memorial to Neil at the end of the game, if that’s okay with you. I didn’t know you were coming today, so I took the liberty of asking Raz and he was fine with it.”

“Of course, thanks.” Susan felt gratitude, and dread, both at once.

“Would you like to say a few words at the ceremony?”

“No, no, thank you.” Susan couldn’t, not today, not ever. She had been a mess at the funeral. She realized she was still a mess.

“Then I will, don’t worry about it. I know what to say.” Mindy patted her arm, frowning in a sympathetic way. “How have you been?”

Susan didn’t know how to answer. Mindy seemed to want an honest answer, but it wasn’t the time or the place to open up. Susan didn’t know if she needed to make a friend among the moms, or even how to start. It always seemed like a clique she wasn’t a part of, though Neil had been, ironically. Besides, she doubted they had anything in common. Mindy was the Queen Bee of the Boosters with a perfect life, as compared with the Sematov Shit Show.

“Fine, thanks,” Susan answered, turning away.

Chapter Nineteen

Chris thought the scene at the baseball game looked typically suburban. The sun shone high in a cloudless sky, and cheering spectators clustered around a perfect baseball diamond and a lush green outfield. He understood why baseball was America’s pastime, but it just wasn’t his. Sports bored him. He preferred higher stakes.

Chris coached third base, and Jordan had been striking out one batter after the next, until the third inning, when one of the Upper Grove batters connected and the ball hopped into the infield. Jordan had fielded it on the fly and thrown it to first base in the nick of time, and the crowd went crazy. The Musketeers players cheered for him almost constantly, yelling at the top of their lungs, shouting “Jordan, Jordan!” “Number 12” “Get it!” and “Bring it!”

“Strike three!” barked the umpire, ending the inning.

Jordan and the rest of the team jogged toward the dugout, and Chris jogged in after them. Raz, who’d subbed in the outfield, was up next in the batting order, and the team cheered for him, shaking the cyclone fence in front of the dugout. One of the Musketeers played Raz’s walk-up music on the boombox, and the team went crazy, rapping at the top of their lungs.

The Upper Grove pitcher threw a fastball, and Raz swung quickly, missing.

“Strike one!” barked the umpire.

Jordan and the Musketeers cheered louder. “You can do it!” “Shake it off!” “You got this, you got this!”

The Upper Grove pitcher threw another fastball, and Raz swung again, missing.

“Strike two!” yelled the umpire.

The Musketeers hollered, “Cool down, Raz!” “Wait for your pitch!”

Chris noticed two moms cheering for Raz behind the fence and he recognized them from his research—Evan’s mother Mindy and Raz’s mother Susan. He’d been hoping to meet Jordan’s mom Heather, but she wasn’t here, and he assumed she was at work.

The next pitch flew across the plate, and Raz swung wildly, missing yet again.

“Strike three, you’re out!” the umpire yelled.

Suddenly Raz whipped the bat into the air and threw it into the fence behind home plate. Raz’s mother and Evan’s mother jumped back, shocked.

“Son, you’re out of here!” the umpire shouted, then Coach Hardwick scrambled out of the dugout, scurrying to home plate.

Chris patted Jordan on the back. “Don’t let this get to you. You’re doing awesome. Keep it up.”

Jordan nodded, tense, and the team watched as Coach Hardwick marched Raz to the dugout, where everybody parted for him, stunned and nervous. Raz stalked inside and kicked the folding chair.

“Raz, enough!” Coach Hardwick bellowed, then pointed to Evan, who was next in the lineup.

The Musketeers burst into cheers for Evan, and as the game went on, they dominated inning after inning, scoring three more runs, and Jordan hit as well as he pitched. Chris spotted Jordan’s mother Heather arriving late, an attractive woman with dark blonde hair in a white sweater and jeans, and he kept his eye on her throughout the game, waiting to make his move. He needed to get as close as possible to Jordan, and winning over his mom would help the cause.

The final score was five to nothing, the Musketeers’ first win, and the team rushed Jordan on the mound, piling onto him and each other. They shook hands with Upper Grove, then streamed to the grassy area behind the visiting dugout, where snack food and drinks had been put out by the Boosters. Coach Hardwick said a few words, parents started talking to him and each other, and Chris made his way to Jordan’s mom, standing at the periphery. He approached her with a grin, sticking out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Chris Brennan, the new assistant coach. Are you Jordan’s mom? I saw you cheering for him.”

“Oh, nice to meet you. Yes, I’m Heather Larkin.” She extended her hand, and Chris clasped it warmly.

“Great to meet you. I also have him in AP Government and I’m so impressed with him. He’s able, responsible, and hard-working. You guys raised a great son.” Chris knew there were no “guys,” only Heather, but he couldn’t let on he knew.

“That’s true, he really is.” Heather beamed, and Chris noted she didn’t correct him.

“I was thrilled to see that he started today, and you must be very proud of him.”