“We’ll have to wait to find out.”
Not needing any further encouragement, Patrick tore into the box, paper flying in all directions. When he managed to pry it open, he paused and then let out an ear-piercing cry of delight.
“Oh wow. Oh my goodness.” Reaching inside, Patrick pulled out a brand-new baseball mitt.
“Who sent it?” Maisy wanted to know, although she had a strong suspicion.
Patrick dug back inside the box, scouring for a card, and came up empty. “I don’t know. There isn’t anything inside.”
Maisy grabbed hold of the empty box to look at the label. She should have known. The glove came from a large sports store in Chicago.
“This is the best mitt ever,” Patrick said.
Maisy noticed that it fit his hand perfectly.
Her brother bounced and danced around the room with sheer joy. “I can’t wait to show the guys. Maybe now the coach will assign me first base,” he shouted.
Maisy waited until after dinner before she sent Chase a text.
You had that baseball mitt mailed to my brother, didn’t you?
Me?
Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.
If you must know, it did come from me. I told you I was practicing generosity.
Patrick was thrilled. I suppose I should thank you. The glove he had was well past its prime.
How ungrateful she sounded when she should be thanking him. It was hard for the family to accept help. Too much pride, she guessed.
Sometime later, Sean sought her out, and he didn’t look happy.
“You heard about Patrick’s mitt, right?” he asked. They squared off in the upstairs hallway outside her bedroom.
She nodded, unwilling to comment.
“Chase sent it, didn’t he?”
Hoping to look as nonchalant as possible, she said, “It appears so.”
Her brother frowned. “I wish he hadn’t. I planned on buying him one after I got my next paycheck.”
“Chase didn’t know that; he was being kind.” She wasn’t overly fond of what he’d done herself, but she refused to deny Patrick a gift that had made him this happy. “We both know Patrick badly needed a decent mitt.”
“Did you say anything to Chase about Patrick’s old glove?” Sean demanded, as if she ever would.
“No, of course not.”
His sigh revealed his frustration before he said, “Good. I’d rather we did without his help.”
“I know,” she said, sharing his feelings. “But I won’t fault him for being generous. We should take it at face value and be grateful. Patrick is ecstatic. We shouldn’t try to take that away because we’re too proud to accept his gift.”
Maisy was about to turn away and return to her room, when her brother stopped her.
“Are you two still talking every night?”
“Chase and me?” she asked with feigned innocence.
