Maggie kissed her daughter lightly on the cheek. "I'm glad I get to see you every single day, my sweet girl. Whenever I have my doubts about this world, I just need to look at one of my girls to know that I did something right."
Cooper inhaled the scent of the brisket cooking and her mother's unique buttery, forsythia-tinged fragrance. "You do plenty right, Mama," she assured her mother. "I'm off to meet my Bible study friends at the game, but if there's any brisket left I'd love to make a sandwich with it to take to work tomorrow."
Maggie snorted. "Between your daddy and Grammy, that three-legged dog out back'll be lucky to get any. I don't know how Grammy eats so much meat and stays so skinny. Must be the trick to livin' to a ripe old age." She winked. "But don't worry, I'll fix you up a proper sandwich and put it in your fridge. You go have fun now."
When Cooper arrived at the Tuckahoe Little League fields, she was amazed at the huge number of minivans, SUVs, and other enormous metal boxes on wheels crowding the parking lots around the twelve playing fields. Cooper had no idea where to meet the rest of the Sunrise gang, so she steered Cherry-O around the deepest dips on the dirt road and looked for Nathan's pea-green BMW. Fortunately, she spotted Jake's work van instead.
The Mr. Faucet van was hard to miss. It was painted sky blue with a shiny silver water faucet on each side. Fat water drops with smiling faces dripped from the faucets and a cartoon plumber, wearing white overalls and carrying a wrench, was frozen in the act of waving. The slogan on each side of the van read
Get the drips outta your life.
Cooper grinned as she parked next to the vehicle. She could almost hear Jake suggesting that slogan at an employee meeting. It sounded just like something he would say.
As she approached the first field on the right, Cooper noted that the game was already underway. The Mr. Faucet kids were dressed in sky-blue shirts while the opposing team was wearing black jerseys. Cooper was unsurprised to see the Capital City logo on the back of the jerseys, but she hadn't expected to see a local news team filming snippets of the game. She surveyed the adults on the field, trying to gauge which of the two coaches might be Cindi's boyfriend, but both men were too far away to see clearly.
"Cooper! Over here!" Nathan's voice called out behind her.
Cooper turned to see Nathan hiking over from the direction of the concession building. He was carrying a cardboard tray laden with hot dogs and packets of condiments. "I got you two dogs," he said, his voice breathy from hustling to her side. "But this doesn't count as me treating you to dinner." He smiled. "Are you free tomorrow night? I thought we'd see a matinee and then go someplace to eat afterward."
As Cooper looked into Nathan's kind face, she felt a warmth flood through her. She realized that the best way of letting go of the past was to leap into the future. Despite the pain she felt over Drew's engagement, it was now more than clear that there was nothing left of her old relationship to cling to.
"That sounds great," Cooper replied, gladly accepting Nathan's invitation. She touched the butterfly pinned on her T-shirt right above her left collarbone and said a silent prayer of gratitude. She was going to move on. She was going to pursue happiness until she held it in her hand.
Completely unaware of Cooper's inner dialogue, Nathan munched on his hot dog while leading her toward the bleachers where the Mr. Faucet fans sat waiting. Their team's batter had temporarily suspended game play by tying his shoelaces with excruciating slowness.
As Nathan and Cooper climbed up several rows, Quinton and Bryant slid deeper into the center of the bleachers to make room for their friends and the tray of hot dogs.
"You make a fine waiter, Nathan." Quinton patted the bleacher beside him, greeted Cooper, and then reached for a hot dog. "Nice night for a ball game, huh?"
"It is," Cooper agreed and said hello to Bryant.
"We've got sodas over here." Bryant pointed to the bleachers to the right of his hip. "No diet though. You okay with full-sugar Sprite?"
"I love sugar in all forms," Cooper said and accepted a hot dog and soda.
Nathan glanced over at her as the batter finally accepted a pitch from a very determined looking nine-year-old. Though he swung with intensity, the Mr. Faucet batter missed the pitch completely and the ball landed in the catcher's mitt with a resounding
thump.
"I like that butterfly pin. Is it new?" Nathan asked.
"My grandmother gave it to me earlier today." Cooper doctored her hot dog with a generous line of catsup. She then pushed a squiggle of mustard over the catsup and topped it all off with three dollops of sweet relish. "Why is there a news crew here?" she asked Nathan, wanting to avoid going into any details about how Grammy had come to bestow the pin upon her.
He shrugged. "Dunno, but after we eat let's go find out. I saw them interviewing Cindi's boyfriend before the game, so we might be able to learn something about him." He sipped some soda. "And I'm sure it was her boyfriend because she blew him a pretty sexy kiss before sitting down over there. Too bad he's got his baseball cap pulled down so low over his face. Makes it hard to see his features." He gestured at the opposing bleachers. "Savannah's our ears on the other side until Trish arrives. She's sitting right next to Cindi, so when Trish joins Savannah, it won't look like she's there to stalk the secretary--just meeting an old friend at the game."
The foursome watched the action on the field for a while. When one of Jake's players scored a home run, they cheered with so much gusto that he arched an eyebrow in their direction. With their baseball caps pulled down low, it was difficult to distinguish one coach from another. Cooper recognized Jake by the strut in his walk and the tattooed cross on his forearm, but she had no idea which of the two Capital City coaches might be Cindi's boyfriend and Cindi didn't signal to anyone on the field. In fact, she didn't even clap when the Capital City team made a good play.
As the game progressed, Cooper felt extremely relaxed and content. During the bottom of the third inning, she leaned back on the bleachers and stared at the silver clouds as they lazily traversed the night sky. Every now and then a star would reveal itself from behind the cloud cover and echoes of cheers from other fields would drift through the clear air. By the sixth inning, Cooper had drained her Sprite and craved another. After noting that her other friends still had plenty of liquid left in their cups, she told Nathan that she was going to get a soda refill.
He paused in mid clap as the Mr. Faucet team took the field. "I'll come with you. Hey!" Nathan grabbed Cooper's elbow before she could stand up. "Don't look now, but Trish has arrived and it looks like she brought one of those little dogs of hers."
"It's wearing a doggie baseball cap!" Quinton exclaimed, helping himself to another hot dog. "My nephews would get a kick out of that. It's darn cute."
"I don't think that blond pouch tied to the end of the bleacher approves of Trish's fashion choice for her canine. Look," Bryant said, pointing. Cooper spied the large dog right away, as she had never seen a standard poodle with such a shaggy coat. "Both dogs are barking their heads off," Bryant continued. "Whoa! That woman is sure jerking that poodle mix around!"
They all focused their attention on the poodle's owner. With a haggard face and hair drawn tightly into a pony-tail, the middle-aged woman shouted as she tried to pacify her dog. She put a hand on an angular hip and gesticulated at Trish, who scowled but then marched to the other end of the bleachers and plunked down next to Savannah. While pouting and throwing dirty looks at the poodle's unpleasant owner, Trish seemed to be complaining to Savannah and Cindi. She had clearly won Cindi's sympathy, for within moments of Trish being seated, the two women had their heads bent and seemed to be whispering diligently. Trish only hesitated long enough to shoot fierce looks at the other dog owner, but Cindi didn't even glance at the other woman, which Cooper found unusual. Instead, she kept her eyes focused on the game.
Two surly-looking children sat in front of Cindi, throwing popcorn listlessly onto the ground. Cooper wondered if they were Cindi's brood and for a moment, felt a touch of pity for the single mom. When Cindi leaned over to reprimand the preteens and they responded by rolling their eyes and continuing their aimless and irritating activity, Cooper nudged Nathan.
"Seems like Cindi's got her hands full."
Nathan frowned. "It can't be easy for her. Maybe that's why she's after a married guy. He's got a stable job and is obviously good with kids. If she could lure him away from his wife, she'd certainly have more security. Looks like those two could use a father figure."
Cooper eyed Cindi's son and daughter as they tossed ice cubes into the air and then tried to catch them with their mouths. "Those kids may be the reason Cindi's boyfriend
never
leaves his wife. Not that he
should
," she added hastily.
Nathan and Cooper ceased staring at Trish and made their way toward the refreshment stand. As they walked, Cooper noticed a silver Porsche parking on a portion of grass that was clearly not a parking space.
"I want to see what's brought the camera crew out here to night," Nathan said in a low voice.
The local reporter, a comely brunette with long legs, hustled over to welcome the sports car's driver as he gracefully unfolded his tall frame from the cramped interior of his car.
"Good evening, Mr. Maynard," the reporter trilled. "Thank you so much for giving us the heads-up about your surprise donation and for coming out here straight from the airport. Were you on vacation?"
"Switzerland. On business. And please call me Vance." The soft-spoken man in his late-forties extended a tanned arm to the reporter.
The reporter sat up a tad bit straighter. "You'll be taking the field during the seventh inning, correct?" Without waiting for him to answer, she plowed on. "Perhaps I could ask you some questions before you make the announcement?"
"Sure thing." He flashed her a white-toothed smile that seemed well rehearsed to Cooper. It was a politician's smile--the kind that emanated from a mouth of expensive veneers but was not reflected in the eyes. Vance Maynard untied a golf sweater from his shoulders and pulled it over his tanned face, slightly ruffling his salt-and-pepper hair. He was an attractive man and seemed to immediately put both the reporter and her cameraman at ease. He reminded Cooper of Bob Barker, but something about both his name and face seemed familiar. Where had she seen this man before?
"Why don't we have a seat?" Vance indicated a nearby picnic table.
Nathan turned to Cooper. "Maybe the reporter knows the name of Cindi's boyfriend. Let's talk to her when she's done with this Vance guy. We'll buy some ice cream and eat it at the table next to hers."
As they approached the concession stand, the crotchety owner of the poodle mix was there, brushing dog hairs from her mustard-stained tank top while berating the teenage boy running the concession stand over the hue of her hotdog.
"Do you think I want food poisoning on top of all my other problems?" she shrieked. "I know that a public school education doesn't mean much these days, but surely you must be aware that
bright red
is not a natural color for a cooked hotdog!"
"Um," the boy stammered. "Would you like popcorn instead? It'd be on the house."
"Fine." The woman snatched a box of popcorn from the boy's hand. She then made an attempt at smoothing some stray hairs that had broken free from her ponytail and dabbed at her stained shirt with a napkin. As she passed Nathan and Cooper, they heard her mutter, "When am I ever going to catch a freaking break?"
After greeting the concession worker with the friendliest smile she could muster, Cooper bought two Astro Pops and another sprite. She and Nathan both thanked the young man profusely and were relieved to see that he seemed unmoved by the frazzled woman's tirade over the color of her hotdog.
Unwrapping their popsicles, Cooper and Nathan sat down at the picnic table next to Vance just as he was saying, "I don't have kids of my own. My wife died of cancer two years ago. She was the love of my life and I don't plan on remarrying, so kids just aren't in my future. That's why I like to get involved with fine groups like Little League."
"The love of your life." The reporter nodded dreamily and then leaned in toward Vance a fraction. "That's really touching. After all, you're one of Richmond's most sought-after bachelors."
Vance made a dismissive gesture. "I'm just a self-absorbed widower who plays golf every weekend, so I especially admire men like Reed Newcombe who take time from their busy schedules to help our community. Reed's got four kids and heads our IT department at Capital City, but here he is, and with a winning record so far too."
Cooper stared at the executive fixedly. The name Reed Newcombe was familiar too, but from where? If he was the head of IT, did that also mean his vanity plate read HRD DRIV? Shaking her head in annoyance at not having any solid answers, she wiped at a sticky trail of red that had melted from her popsicle onto her hand, and resumed listening to the reporter.
"But it was your idea for Capital City to donate new lights, fencing, and electronic scoreboards for all twelve fields, right?" The reporter uncrossed and crossed her shapely legs as she consulted her notebook.
Vance never took his eyes from her face. "Only when Reed mentioned that the fields could do with some sprucing up. As executive vice president of Capital City, I get the plea sure of writing the check and making the speeches, but Reed's done the real work here."
Though the reporter made a show of consulting her note pad, Cooper believed that the journalist was just trying to stall for time so that she could grill the eligible bachelor a little longer. "And you and Mr. Newcombe were fraternity brothers at UNC, correct?"