“Yep, every two weeks, like clockwork.”
“And how did his sister find you?”
“Not sure. She does hair, too, so she said she wanted to find the right person for her brother since she couldn’t be here to do it herself.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
Nolan comes running in, yelling, “Mom! I almost forgot!”
“What?” I ask with the same dramatic tone as him.
“One of the other kids said they are doing open batting practice tonight at the Terrors stadium and letting kids run the field. Can we go? Please!” He clasps his hands under his chin and pouts out his lip, making me laugh.
“Do you see this kid?” I point out to my sister.
“That’s all you!” She taunts. “You did the same thing when we were little.”
I look at Sasha. “Do you know anything about this?”
“Yeah. Nick talked about it all day. He said it’s free.” She shrugs. “I’m down to go if you’re up for it.”
Nolan’s eyes open wide as he waits for my response.
“Okay, we can go,” I say before the anticipation kills him.
Nolan jumps for joy. “Yes!” He grabs my arm. “Come on. Let’s go! We’re going to be late.”
“Hold on. Let me get some details. Go help your cousins clean up out there.” I point to outside as I grab my phone to try to find information about what’s going on.
“Says it starts at seven.” I look at the clock, seeing it’s six thirty. “We’d better get going.”
Sasha walks around the kitchen, grabs a to-go container, slides her artwork of a charcuterie board into the container, not caring now how it looks, then opens the freezer to grab three Uncrustables. “Looks like the dinner of champions for all of us,” she teases. “Let’s go!”
I love how she can be so put together and proper, then flip on a dime and have thisfuck it, let’s do thisattitude.
“Oh.” She holds up her finger. “Mommy juice.” She pours our wine into water bottles, making me laugh out loud. She hands me mine with a devious grin on her face. “Now we’re ready.”
Nolan, Jackson, and my niece, Layla, climb into my sister’s Escalade as I help carry our makeshift dinners to the car.
“So, you didn’t finish telling me everything about this new client of yours,” Sasha says as she drives toward the stadium. “I don’t think I got his name.”
“Evan.”
She glances my way. “Just Evan? Do you know his last name?”
I rack my brain for what he told me, but for the life of me, I can’t remember it. I open my phone up to get my schedule. “Huh,” I say as I try to think back to my conversation with him and his sister. “It just says Evan P. in my phone. He told me because we talked about our full names when I told him what Nolan’s name was, but I don’t remember.”
“He thought you named him after Nolan Ryan, didn’t he?” she deadpans.
I tilt my head in annoyance. “Yes.”
“I told you everyone would ask that when you picked it.”
“And I told you I didn’t care,” I reply in her same told-you-so tone.
“Well, in two weeks, you’ll have to tell me his name so I can stalk him more properly.”
