“Do you have plans today?” she asks as I’m rearranging the top rack to get the last bowl in.
“Nope.”
“Would you like to make some young athletes’ days?”
“With you, or in your place?”
Her cheeks do that pink thing again. “With me.”
Yes. “I could think of worse things to do.”
“This isn’t a date.”
“Didn’t think it was.”
“Didn’t you?”
“I know where we stand.” For now.
Andfor nowhas me driving Addie to a softball diamond in the Mulvaney Hill district of the city with a bagful of stuffed Baby Ash mascots in the rear of the Sin Bin, which is what I call my SUV.
I’m the muscle. Not her date.
Herpartnerin community outreach.
But it’s clear when we arrive at the practice diamond that Addie’s the real show.
“Coach Addie!” the first baseperson yells, and that’s it.
Practice pauses as the teenage girls in softball-practice gear dash to the sidelines.
“Sorry for the disruption, Coach,” she says to an older woman who’s wearing a sun visor and a whistle and standing at the edge of the field.
“For being late or for interrupting practice?”
“Yes.”
The older woman smiles at her as the team crowds around. “Practice was supposed to be over fifteen minutes ago, and they know it.”
“We hit traffic.”
The older woman’s gaze slides to me, but her silent questions are swept away by the tight crowd of players.
“Morning, Stingrays,” Addie says to the team. The difference in her at this exact moment is remarkable.
When I catch sight of her on TV during games, she’s always straight-faced. Holds herself rigid. Doesn’t let a single muscle or joint out of place. All business.
But this morning, she’s smiling at the team as they chorus back an enthusiastic, “Hi, Coach Addie.”
“I can’t throw well today, so I brought you a target instead,” she says to the team.
Two dozen young women roughly my niece’s age, maybe a little younger, turn to stare at me.
“He looks familiar,” says the one holding a catcher’s glove with her mask pushed back on her head.
“Were you in a constipation commercial?” someone in the middle of the group wants to know.
“Guys, he plays baseball,” a shorter woman holding a bat tells them.
