“I don’t think it is either, but I guess I did egg her on, too, J. I didn’t have to say anything back to her. I could have just let her think whatever she wanted to.” That simple truth had me resigned. I could have let it go. I really could have. “Too late now. It’s okay. It’s just one practice, and hopefully they will change the schedule so it’ll be worth it.”

“That’s stupid.”

I shot him a look.

“That’s dumb,” he amended.

I shrugged, reaching up to rub at my temple with my index and middle finger. “She’s just mad her kid is in the right field.”

Chapter Eight

My good mood lasted until the next morning. When your first thought after waking up includes the word “bullshit” in it, it shouldn’t be a surprise when you’re grumpy the rest of the day. But the fact was even though I was well aware that I had thrown verbal lighter fluid into my talk with the baseball mom at practice yesterday, what resulted from it was still a whole load of horseshit. The more I thought about it, the angrier it made me. What was I supposed to do? Stand there and get blamed for something that wasn’t my fault? I was dreading having to call Mr. Larsen and tell him that I wasn’t going to be able to take Josh to practice, and then have to explain why. It made me feel like a kid who had gotten caught cheating on her test.

Josh was too sleepy to notice that I was grumpy, and Louie, well, who the hell knew what was going through that kid’s head. The last time I asked him what he was thinking about, he’d said “buttholes.” Since then, I kept that question to myself. But Ginny, who happened to open the salon with me that morning, immediately picked up on my mood.

“What’s wrong?” she’d asked, already smirking.

“How can you tell something’s wrong?” I asked, shoving the last piece of smores flavored Pop-Tart into my mouth.

“Because you eat Pop-Tarts when you’re mad or aggravated.” Her smirk grew. “And I know you. I can sense it.”

She was right. Pop-Tarts were my comfort food in time of need. The boys already knew that when they caught me eating a package, something was wrong. I slid her a look as I unpacked my lunch and put it into the refrigerator, chewing and swallowing the last bit of my makeshift breakfast. To balance it out, I’d scarfed down a banana first. “You get into one little argument with another parent at baseball and you get suspended from a practice.”

I didn’t have to look at my boss to know she’d hunched over when she started laughing. I could hear her, and I knew her. And it was the sound of her laugh that made me smile so hard my face hurt from trying not to do the same. It did sound ridiculous.

“Trip did that?” she asked, wiping at her eyes.

“No, your other cousin did. Trip just stood by and let it happen.” We weren’t friends, I’d accepted that while I sulked on the way to work that morning, but I still couldn’t help but feel betrayed.

That had her cracking up all over again. “What happened?”

So I told her in detail, and when she nodded at me in response, I knew I hadn’t done some crazy, unheard of thing. Plus, Ginny really had been nineteen when she’d had her first child. Of course she was going to get at least a little offended. Luckily for both of us, she didn’t offer to call Trip and put in a good word for me. I would never ask her to do that and she knew I could handle my own battles… unless I specifically asked for help. When she patted me on the back and shared half an orange with me, I told myself again it wasn’t a big deal, that I shouldn’t get so bent out of shape.

I had acted wrongly, but I still wouldn’t change what I’d said. I could be a grown-up and accept responsibility for my actions. Somehow my mood spiked after I accepted that reality, and the next few hours went better.

Until I went to the deli for two soft drinks during a small break between customers right around lunch.

It wasn’t a surprise that the line to order and pay was long. They kept the sodas behind the counter. With two people ahead of me, the door chimed open, but I didn’t turn around. I was too busy looking down at my phone, browsing through flight times to visit my best friend.

“How’s it going?” a male voice asked behind me.

I didn’t realize they were talking to me, so I kept looking at my screen.

There was a short laugh. “Diana, you gonna ignore me?”

Wondering who the hell would be talking to me, I glanced over my shoulder and immediately went from being confused to not amused. It was Trip, my not-friend. “Hi. I didn’t know you were talking to me.”

That signature bright smile of his went up a notch, indifferent to my tone and mood. “Who else would I be talkin’ to?” he asked, still grinning.

I shrugged, that slight taste of resentment on my tongue. “I don’t know.”

Unaffected, he asked, “Gettin’ some lunch?”

“No, just two drinks.” I paused, fighting the urge between being rude and polite. The champion winning as it always did. “You?”

“Lunch.” If he knew he wasn’t exactly my favorite person in that moment, he didn’t let it get to him. “How’s your day goin’?”

“Good.” I kept my mouth flat. “You?”

“No complaints.” That pretty pink mouth of his twitched and he raised his eyebrows, his impressive smile growing by the second. “You mad at me too?”