Page 11 of The Umpire Strikes Back

My mouth drops open. “It is not!”

“All right, Gordon Ramsay, move it along,” Hattie orders, stepping between me and the skillet. She plucks the spatula from my hand as if I’m a child about to break something expensive.

Kali hides a grin behind her hand. Her eyes slide to mine, and for a second, I see something like humor mixed with genuine warmth. I’m not sure what to do with that look, so I huff in mock indignation. “Fine. You two have fun. I’ll leave you to your veggie-chopping extravaganza.”

I pivot toward the living room, where Juniper’s peeking around the corner. She’s dressed in a bright teal T-shirt and denim shorts, hugging her new pink baseball glove to her chest. I guess she’s been itching to show it off since we got it this afternoon.

“Dad,” she pipes up, voice excited, “can we go outside and practice throwing? Kali showed me some new tricks, and I want to see if I can do them.”

I rake a hand through my hair, glancing over my shoulder at the kitchen. My sister waves me off without looking up, and Kali gives a small nod of approval, so I shrug. “Sure, Junebug. Let’s do it.”

She tugs on my arm, practically bouncing in place. “Awesome!”

I lead her through the sliding glass door into our small but comfortable backyard. There’s a modest patch of grass, a towering oak tree on the left side, and a well-worn patch of dirt we jokingly call “home plate” whenever we play. Juniper hands me one of her older gloves to use, and I jog a few steps away to put a little distance between us.

“How about we just toss it lightly at first?” I suggest, slipping on the glove. “Get you warmed up.”

She nods, determined eyes fixed on me. “Okay.”

I lob the ball underhand, letting her catch it easily. She grins, adjusting her stance to the position Kali must have shown her—elbow up, knees slightly bent. She tosses it back to me, surprisingly straight for a six-year-old. I catch it and nod approvingly.

“Nice form.”

She beams, wiggling with excitement. “Kali said I should keep my wrist straight and follow through.”

I toss it again, smiling a little at how quickly she’s picking up these pointers. “She’s right. That’s good advice.”

We do this for a few more minutes, me increasing the speed gradually while Juniper focuses on staying in position. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the oak, and I can faintly hear Hattie and Kali laughing in the kitchen. I try not to picture Kali’s sundress swaying around her legs or how her smile lights up her entire face.

“Dad?” Juniper asks, mid-throw.

“Yeah?”

She catches the ball, hugging it to her glove. “Do you think Kali is, like… a pretty princess tonight? Like Princess Leia? And you can be Han Solo.”

I nearly choke on nothing. “I… what?”

Juniper’s face is earnest. “She’s wearing a dress, and it looks like a princess dress to me. But, like, not super fancy. Just… pretty. Do you think so?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. I’m not sure how to navigate this conversation. “Uh… well,” I say, rubbing my hand along the back of my neck. “She looks nice, sure. I guess you could say… yeah, she looks like a pretty princess.”

Juniper’s grin expands, and she throws the ball back to me. “I knew it! I can’t wait to tell her you said that.”

My heart skips a beat. “You’re not going to tell her that. Right? Because I didn’t exactly— I mean, I don’t want you?—”

“I can tell her, can’t I?” Juniper interrupts, her eyes wide and guileless. “Why wouldn’t she want to know she looks pretty? You always say compliments are nice.”

I swallow, at a complete loss. “Let’s just… let’s keep it between us, okay, kiddo?”

She smirks, and I realize my daughter’s a little more devious than I give her credit for sometimes. “We’ll see,” she says mischievously.

I groan inwardly but decide I can’t exactly force a vow of secrecy. “Fine, just… don’t embarrass me in front of her, okay?”

“I won’t embarrass you,” Juniper says, but her tone is entirely too innocent.

We throw the ball a few more times until we hear Hattie shout from the back door, “Dinner’s ready! Tacos are on the table if you want them hot!”

“Let’s go,” I tell Juniper, ruffling her hair. My stomach rumbles in anticipation. The smell of spices and sizzling meat has been drifting through the yard, reminding me I haven’t eaten much all day.

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