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But Elena was tired, he noticed, as he helped her to her feet. Her eyelids drooped already. She might need a nap before they headed home.
“Come on,” he said and went to the pitch machine. “Let’s make this interesting. The person with the most hits wins.”
“Wins what?” Elena lifted a sardonic single brow. “Because it better not be something dumb.”
“Do it for the glory, sis.”
“Glory schmory.”
“What about ice cream?” Daisy suggested warily.
“Yess.” Elena raised her palm to the silver-haired woman for a high five.
Daisy blinked at Elena. Axel jogged in and stage-whispered, “Don’t leave her hanging.”
Like a stiff robot, Daisy slapped her palm to Elena. The resounding thwack echoed in the room and was the flip of the switch. Time to have fun. But first—he surreptitiously asked Daisy, “Could you do me a favor and stay up at this end to keep flyaway balls from hitting Elena?”
She gave him questioning eyes but nodded.
“Thank you.” He watched his sister get herself ready at the plate. “She pretends she has more energy than she does.”
Daisy suddenly blinked and jerked. “You’re not dying. She is.”
