Natalie put on a Yankees T-shirt and a pair of white shorts. Then she hung up her work clothes and joined Jimmy on the sofa.
“Cheers,” he said, saluting her with his martini glass. “Here’s hoping the Arabs buy the McCreedy house.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
A roar of applause came from the TV. Jimmy leaned forward and shouted at the umpire. Natalie sipped her drink and felt her body loosen a little. She was just starting to unwind when J.J. appeared in the doorway, followed by the dogs.
“What’s for dinner?”
Jimmy was too engrossed in the game to respond, so Natalie said, “Pizza.”
J.J. ruffled Tramp’s fur. “Did you hear that, boy? Pizza! But not for you. You get grody Alpo.”
Natalie nudged Jimmy. “When will this be over?”
“Fifteen minutes, give or take.”
“Can you pick up the pizza in fifteen minutes? I’ll call Sal’s after I finish my drink.”
Jimmy frowned. “I’d rather have a real meal. We had sandwiches for lunch.”
“Are you going to make the real meal?”
Jimmy looked at her like she had two heads.“Me?”
Natalie gave him a blank stare. “You could grill. Do we have any ground meat?”
Sweeping his arm in a wide arc, Jimmy said, “It’s not like I had time to go to the store. I washed the car, mowed the lawn, and watched the kids.”
“Then I guess we’re having pizza.”
The crack of a bat colliding with a ball reverberated from the television and Jimmy whipped his head around to see what he’d missed. He put his feet on the coffee table and jiggled his right foot, a telltale sign that he was annoyed.
Natalie made herself another drink and carried it to the kitchen to call Sal’s. A few minutes later, she heard Jimmy collect his keys from the bowl on the console table.
“By the way,” he said on his way out, “you might want to look at Jill’s hand.”
The door slammed, prompting a chorus of barks from the dogs.
“Lady! Tramp! Want a treat?”
The dogs raced into the kitchen. Natalie opened the cookie jar she kept in the laundry room and pulled out two rawhide chews. The dogs trotted off to eat their treats on the living room rug while Natalie headed to the back deck, where she called out a hello to Justin and Jill.
“Mommy!” Justin shouted. He ran across the lawn, scrambled up the stairs, and threw himself into Natalie’s arms.
“How’s my baby?” she asked, sweeping his golden hair off his brow and planting a kiss on his warm skin.
“Jilly and I were playing.”
“I saw you. Dad’s getting pizza. Want to go in and wash your hands?”
Justin slid off her lap and leaned over the deck railing. “Jill!We’re having pizza!” He let out a whoop and disappeared into the house.
Natalie expected Jill to jog up the stairs in excitement, but her ascent was surprisingly slow. She looked pale and wore a hangdog expression.
“Let’s see that hand.” Natalie thumped the empty chair beside her.
Jill sat down and rested her bandaged hand on the table. Tears beaded her lashes.
