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teasing her about a perceived crush. She’d smiled a little too big at the UPS delivery driver once and her father didn’t let her forget about it for three months.
    “No,” she replied without looking at Jack. He had an uncanny knack for knowing when she was stretching the truth and no compunction about calling her on it.
    “Really? Because you were burning holes through that woman over there.” True to form, Jack called bullshit on her white lie. Sometimes Angie wished he would just leave well enough alone.
    “I met her, but I don’t know her.” Angie hoped that would satisfy him.
    “So, she’s someone you’d like to know?”
    “Yes.” Angie realized a moment too late what she’d said. “I mean no. No.” She tried for confident, but the statement still came out sounding a lot like a question.
    “Okay.” Jack seemed nonplussed. “You realize you aren’t making sense?”
    “Yes, can we drop it now?” Angie stared resolutely at the ball field. Oliver was covering first base and the runner there was stretching his lead from the plate so far it was obvious he was trying to steal second. She pointed to Oliver. “Watch your grandson.”
    When Jack returned his focus to Oliver’s game, Angie risked another glance at Luna. Her girlfriend was sitting in the bleachers staring at her fingernails. Odd that she even showed up if she found the game so boring. Luna was next at bat and Angie suppressed the urge to cheer. Not that Luna needed encouragement for her batting, but anyone who looked that good wearing a torn jersey and a whole lot of sweat deserved some vocal encouragement.
    Angie felt almost guilty about her inappropriate thoughts about Luna, but had decided to let it be what it was: an enjoyable fantasy. Yes, she was objectifying the woman. The feminist in her protested, but the lesbian who needed to get laid could live with it.
    Hoots and hollering around her brought her back to the game she had come to watch. A batter from the other team scored a hit, but the outfielder scooped it up and threw it to Oliver.
    Angie held her breath as the ball arced through the air. Even though he’d been playing ball since he was five—when he joined his first T-ball team—she still crossed her fingers and prayed every time the ball approached him. He didn’t miss very often, but when he did, it was spectacular. The guilt he felt afterward was enormous, and it took days for Angie and Jack to pull him out of it.
    Oliver caught the ball with a practiced tip of his glove, then tagged out the runner with a serious smile. That expression always cracked Angie up. She didn’t know how he managed to look so happy yet so earnest at the same time.
    Half of the spectators erupted into cheers. The other half groaned. That was the final play of the eighth inning and Oliver’s team was ahead by two runs. Not a large enough lead to get cocky, but comfortable enough for the other team to feel the early pangs of defeat.
    Angie glanced back at Luna’s game. Luna had just stepped up to the plate and was mid-swing. The bat connected with a mighty crack and the ball sailed deep into left field. Luna didn’t wait to see if it was snagged before it hit the ground. She took off toward first base like a house afire. Angie liked to watch her run.
    “Sure you don’t know her?” Jack teased.
    “Dad, leave it alone.”
    “Can’t help it, pumpkin. An old man has a right to want to see his one and only daughter happy.”
    It was a speech he’d given her before. She didn’t understand it then, and she didn’t understand it now. It’s not like she was unhappy. “I’m happy, Dad.”
    “No, but you could be if you’d unwind a little.”
    Unwind? Like him? Focusing more on finding the happiness in the bottom of a water pipe than on raising her son? No, thanks, not for Angie. “I’m wound just fine.”
    “Angie—”
    “I’m fine,” Angie said firmly. She was done with the conversation. It was useless to discuss something that