Page 20 of Fair Ball

“Not really, but…” She flicks her hand. “Noah’s the easiest kid. I don’t know a lot of children, but I suspect he is the best of them all.”

“He wouldn’t be that way if it weren’t for you.”

She eases closer to me, eyes wide, scrutinizing me closely. “I don’t know why you keep talking like this. Like you know me. You hire me for this job. You assume things about my parenting. How can you be so sure of me?”

How can anybody be sure of anything? But I trust what I know of her. What I know of her son. What I know for sure of myself.

And I won’t let this woman believe she’s bad luck. I won’t let her give up anything else. I won’t give up the little bit of sunshine I found in this fucking gray city.

“No one who falls on their ass doing a cartwheel and can laugh it off on a fifty-seven-foot-high screen is going to give up on anything easily. And that is a compliment.”

She wrinkles her nose, trying to hide her growing smile. “Thank you, Austin.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Right. Well…” She glances around. “Well, what else can I do for you today?”

“Nothing.” I check the time on my cell phone. “I’ve got to get to the field for PT.”

“There’s nothing I can do for you while you’re practicing or whatever?”

“We have a game tonight, but I’m not pitching so I’ll be in the bullpen.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.” She nods, obviously having no idea what I’m talking about.

“Pitchers don’t play every game. We rotate so we can rest and recover before we have to pitch again.”

“Mm-hmm. Sure.”

“On days I play games, I have a schedule.”

She cuts in. “I have schedules too. Hate to break them. What do you do?”

“For my schedule?” She smiles, excited, like we have something in common, and I lean even more forward. “I do the same things every day to keep my body and mind in tune. Eat the same meals, practice the same drills, stretch out the same way, listen to the same songs.”

She lights up, nodding along. “I’m the exact same. If my morning routine is in any way thrown off, my whole day is ruined.”

“What’s your morning routine?”

“Get up at six and… Well, I won’t go into all the details, but suffice to say, I spend a lot of time with dental hygiene. I hate going to the dentist and had a cavity once when I was fifteen. I swore I would never have one again because the experience was so terrible, so I’m very careful about oral care.”

And it makes me the worst kind of bastard that my mind meanders down an oral care path that is wholly unrelated to teeth. I rub at my eyes, though it does nothing to rid my brain of the images it conjured up, and I interrupt Millie’s story about yoga and some app to help her stay calm to ask, “You do this every morning?”

She nods. “Without fail.”

“Is working for me going to affect you or your routine at all?”

“No. It fits right in, actually.”

“Good. All right.” I rub my palms down my shins. “Since I’m not pitching today, I can relax a little. I don’t need to be at the field as early on days like today.”

She motions to the boxes stacked around. “In that case, do you want me to hang around and help you with all of these?”

“No, I’ll take care of them.”

“You sure? Because I feel kind of silly you’re paying me so much money, and I’m not doing anything.”

“You will be. Starting tomorrow.”