Page 65 of Home Run

Kind of wish I’d told her first, but Jupiter Reeves would have to do. And to be honest, based on his current expression, I’d say he didn’t realize he was the first person I’d admitted it to, so we were going to pretend it never happened.

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“Because I talk about her all the time.”

His fingers scratched through the thick stubble on his jaw. “There’s your problem then.”

“What d’you mean?”

“I rarely listen when any of you open your mouths.”

“You’re a dick, Reeves.” I turned back to the field. “Can you leave? I’m not done talking to my baby.”

He didn’t leave. “Why are you talking to it?”

I rolled my eyes and hoped my loud sigh communicated how annoying I found him.

It was amazing that the moment we stepped on the field Reeves and I had a totally seamless, professional relationship and perfect communication.

He played third base, and as shortstop, I was closer to him than anyone else. He didn’t even need to be looking at me to catch a ball I’d thrown his way, because heknew.It was instinctive. Yet the second we came off, he turned intothis.

“So it can recognize my voice when it’s born. It’s hard traveling and being away from Millie all the time?—”

“And Millie’s your girlfriend?”

I shook my head. “Not yet, but I want her to be.”

He stayed silent and stayedstaringat me. Maybe if I ignored him he would leave me alone.

“Turn the microphone back on.”

“What?”

“Turn it back on.”

I frowned but did as he asked. This time he took it from me.

Bringing his fist to his mouth, he cleared his throat. “Okay, baby Simpson. This is Jupiter Reeves, and I play baseball with your dad. And don’t tell anyone I said this, but he’s an excellent shortstop, maybe one of the best in the league currently.” Jupiter hit Pause. “Did you already say what shortstop does?”

I nodded. It was all I could manage because I had no idea what he was doing. Guess I could delete it.

“Good. Today he got two runs off a bat in the fourth inning, yesterday’s game against the Braves, he hit a home run, which took us to the top of the standings. Your dad has some of the quickest reflexes I’ve ever seen, and they’re going to get us to the World Series. He’s finishing the regular season with a batting average of .324 and an on-base plug slugging of .917, which is better than mine, if you can believe it. Your dad is going to lift the Commissioner’s Trophy at the end of the season.”

Holy shit. Did Reeves just pay me a compliment? And he knew my stats well enough to reel them off.

I expected him to hand the microphone back to me, but he kept going.

“I predict we’re gonna do it in five games, not seven. And we’re going to beat the Yankees. They’ve been strong this season, had a couple of new players added to the roster, but we’re stronger. The postseason begins next week, and we’re going in as leaders for the National League East. You agree, Simpson?” He pointed the microphone my way.

Hmm. I’d been thinking about this more and more the past couple of weeks, even though I didn’t want to jinx it. Jupiter clearly had different superstitions.

“You think five games?”

“Yeah.”

“If we’re against the Yankees, I agree.” I nodded. “But I think there’s a good chance we could be against the Red Sox, and if that’s the case, it’ll be seven.”

“Red Sox, huh.” Jupiter was running his finger back and forth across his top lip. “Interesting. Yeah, I couldsee that happening. Yankees or Red Sox. Who would you rather take on?”

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