“The one Mason rescued, you mean?” Laura said teasingly.
Carmen put her hand over her heart. “Don’t remind me.”
My thoughts flipped back to our little Maisy. Her bilirubin numbers were starting to come down, and I knew she had only another week or so in the hospital. If she was lucky. Which was usually the opposite of what I thought. Ordinarily, the lucky kids were the ones getting out of the hospital quickly.
“So will you guys do DNA tests or something? Find her parents?”
“This is Cape Carolina, notCSI: Miami,” Laura said, rolling her eyes.
I sighed. “It’s unbelievable, but, really, since she’s safe and well, I don’t even think they’re looking that hard for her parents.”
Carmen’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
Laura and I both nodded. “The parents can even come back and claim their child within sixty days, no harm, no foul,” Laura filled in.
“But if they don’t, the baby can legally be put up for adoption,” I jumped in.
Carmen shook her head. “Wait a minute. So, you’re telling me that you can abandon your baby and then just waltz back into DSS fifty-nine days later and, like, take your kid home?”
Laura and I both nodded again.
Carmen was clearly aghast, but we all clapped and cheered as an announcer came over the loudspeaker to introduce our Cape Carolina Marlins. It was quite exciting. The cheerleaders formed a double line with their pom-poms up in the air for the players—who, quite frankly, looked a little confused—to run through.
“When in the hell did we get cheerleaders for baseball?” Carmen asked.
“Isn’t it just great?” I trilled.
Laura and Carmen laughed, and I looked at them seriously. “I need something to entertain me during all the hitting and running.”
Mason smiled at me again, and my heart raced. “So, uh, ladies. For real. What’s the deal with Mason?”
Carmen leaned over as Drew threw the first pitch. “Well,” she said, conspiratorially. “He was destined for baseball greatness. He was out celebrating a huge win his senior year with his friends when he got into a bar fight, hurt his shoulder, and was never able to pitch again.”
I could feel my eyes widen. Abar fight?
“Carmen,” Laura said, exasperated. “You’re leaving out the most important part.”
I turned all my attention to her.
“Oh, right,” Carmen said. “This wasn’t a random bar fight; it was a fight with his own brother.”
“Mason’s own brother is the one who ruined Mason’s chances at the big leagues,” Laura added.
I winced, thinking of sweet, clean-cut Parker. I couldn’t imagine it. “What was the fight about?”
“That’s the thing,” Carmen said.
“No one really knows,” Laura finished.
“I think Parker was jealous of Mason and wanted to end him,” Carmen said as the other team’s batter made contact with the ball. It sailed into the outfield, where one of our players caught it, and we were all on our feet, cheering. The cheerleaders were going crazy. EvenIknew that catching a ball in the outfield was a good thing for the team not at bat. Maybe I liked baseball after all.
“That is so untrue,” Laura said, clapping. “Parker was proud of Mason.”
“Well, at any rate,” Carmen said, “Mason went off to college without saying goodbye to anyone, came home, and essentially wasted his life for likeyears.”
“Until Greer and George were born?” I asked.
“Aw,” Laura said, putting her hand to her heart. “They saved him.”
