Page 129 of The Leaves In Autumn
Now the kid’s smiling. She nods her head. “I was watching on TV, but not Mom. I thought I heard the crack of your bone.” She touches her clavicle.
Turning to Charlotte, I hand her the pen. “How come you weren’t watching?”
Her face starts blushing, and I can almost see the wheels working as she tries coming up with an answer.
“I think I was on the phone when I heard the announcement you’d been hurt. I missed that part of the game.”
A satisfied grin says she thinks she’s sold me on the excuse. Mallory keeps quiet, but the eyes tell me her mother’s fibbing.
“So, you’re a fan, then?” I say, challenging her story.
“Yes. Definitely.” She raises a fist in the air and pumps it. “Go Mavericks!”
“How’d you like our big game with the Reno Weasels?” I say.
Her eyes widen as her eyebrows lift.
“Oh, that was a good one. What a game! We really enjoyed that, didn’t we, Mallory?”
The kid and I lock eyes, and then we both start laughing.
“What?” Charlotte says.
“Mom, there is no Reno Weasels! Who’d name their team the Weasels?”
I like this look. This face right here. She’s smiling and then laughing with us.
Her shoulders rise in embarrassment, and she bites her full bottom lip. “Sorry. I didn’t want to admit I don’t like baseball.”
I put my hand over my heart and lean against the column. “That’s a fatal blow, woman!”
Both she and Mallory giggle at my overacting.
“I’m gonna have to change your opinion, you know. Baseball’s the greatest sport there is. It’s America’s pastime after all. Don’t you know that?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her. It’s hopeless,” Mallory says.
The fact that the kid’s enjoying herself has turned the mood of the mother. Now’s my chance.
“So, Mallory, you coming tomorrow?”
“Where?”
“The picnic. My brother was supposed to invite you two. Didn’t he tell you about it?”
“No,” they say in unison.
“It’s gonna be great. Have you heard of Athletes for Heroes?”
“No,” Charlotte says.
“They work with the children of fallen heroes, policemen, firefighters, military. Those kids who’ve lost a parent…” Out of my peripheral vision, I see one of the kids point at me. Shit! When I look, the news has spread. I’ve been discovered. There’s only a few seconds left of our private conversation before we’ll be surrounded. “It’s a national charity the Mavericks are involved in.”
I spot Brick approaching. “I’ll let my brother explain. He’s the expert. But please come. I’ll get your number from him…”
“Atticus!! Atticus!” Voices call my name, and bodies press around me, pushing me against the column and Charlotte and Mallory to the side. I lose sight of them almost immediately as pens and balls and tickets are shoved at me for my autograph.
