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Now he was the one choking over his beer. “Magnolia,” he admonished.

“I’m serious,” I replied, setting aside my bean burger. It was not the same.

He folded his arms across his chest. “We had a nice conversation. Maybe it’s time you gave her a chance.”

I shook my head at him. He was mad at Rhett for something he did at eighteen and could talk to Mom? “The woman ran off with another man without any warning, ignored me during my last two years of high school and my first two years of college, then brought her homewrecker to my hair school graduation, and you want me togive her a chance?” My chest heaved with my breath, with the hurt and anger that came with those words. What kind of mother abandoned her daughter? “And now she wants to endow me with something when she dies? Screw that. She’s already dead to me.”

Dad’s lips tugged up at the corners.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” I muttered.

“Tell me how you really feel,” he said.

“How can you be so calm about all this? You’re holding a grudge against Rhett and he was a kid. Mom was a full-grown adult who messed up like that. She hurt both of us.”

“I was a grown man, and I know I wasn’t the perfect husband. Running out on us wasn’t okay, but I could have been more romantic, listened when she said she was feeling stuck instead of sweeping it under the rug.” He shrugged. “I hate what she did to you, and nothing will ever make up for it.”

“But?”

“And,” he said. “Andpeople aren’t all good or all bad.”

I hated how right he was. I tended to see things in black and white, but Dad had just shown me yet another shade of gray.

Beneath all that anger at my mom, I was hurting too. I missed her like crazy, but I missed all the parts of having a mom as an older woman my friends got to experience. Cam called her mom when her period was late, when she had a bad hair appointment, when she couldn’t figure out her health insurance. I wanted that too.

But forgiving Mom? That was scary too. If she could abandon her sixteen-year-old daughter, how loyal could she be to a grown woman in her thirties? So much time had passed it made me wonder... maybe it was better to let sleeping dogs lie.

24

RHETT

On Tuesday,I gathered all the girls in a circle at the middle of the infield. I’d been thinking about Esther and her tears before the game ever since Friday. She was so worried about making friends, but sports had been where I’d cemented some of my best friendships in junior high and high school. Why couldn’t that be the case for the girls in Little League too?

I held the large yellow softball in my glove and said, “We had a good game last week, you all played well individually, but I want to see us grow as a team too. So this week, we’re doing a little something to build team spirit.”

The girls all glanced around, and Maggie gave me a curious look, since I’d changed practice plans last minute. But she said, “Okay, Coach, what do we do?”

“We’re going to practice getting grounders. I’ll roll the ball to someone, and I have to tell that person one thing they did well at the last game.” I dropped the ball from my glove to my right hand and rolled it to Esther. She lowered to the ground, capturing the ball in her glove.

When she stood back up, I said, “Great hit at the end of the game, Esther. We might have to start calling you Powerhouse!”

Maggie clapped, and all the girls followed after while Esther smiled bashfully.

She rolled the ball to Guinevere next and said, “You were so fast chasing after balls in the outfield, Gwennie.”

We all cheered again and continued that process until everyone had gotten a compliment. I said, “Good job, team. Next, I want to get to know you all better. When I roll the ball to you, tell me one thing you’re looking forward to about the school year.”

Over the next fifteen minutes, I learned that Tessa was excited to talk with everyone at lunchtime, Mindy missed the big school library, Shayna couldn’t wait to play on the bigger playground, and Maya wanted to do more science experiments. She’d heard that this year, they’d get to dissect frogs. Just like her dad.

After that, we went through and said one thing we were worried about for the next game and then one area we wanted to improve on.

In front of my eyes, these little girls were becoming more than players; they were becomingmyteam, little people with hopes and desires and worries. I hoped they could all see each other that way too.

We didn’t have much time left in practice, so I had them spread out around the field and I practiced hitting pop flies to them. I noticed them encouraging each other more when they caught the ball and even when they missed it.

I had a proud smile on my face as they jogged back toward the dugout for their parents to take them home. I gave them high fives on the way, saying, “Atta girl! Great practice! Good job!”

Maggie was the last one back, giving me a smile that said she saw too much. She bumped my arm with hers. “Good practice, Coach.”