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“That’s nice of you to bring him.” At sporting events, there were moms and dads, sometimes girlfriends or boyfriends, and grandparents, but I rarely saw aunts and uncles. I worried that Abby felt like an outsider with the other intact families, but if it bothered her, she never said anything.
Like me, Abby married Seth young, but they’d wanted kids right away. My ex-husband wanted to wait, and being career minded, I hadn’t minded.
Abby and Seth couldn’t get pregnant on their own, so they’d undergone infertility treatments. When she’d finally gotten pregnant, Seth started to pull away from her, and by the time Hunter was born, he’d said he couldn’t do it anymore.
My parents and I stepped in, never wanting her to feel alone.
When we arrived at the field, the other woman veered to the left to set up her things. I stood awkwardly, not recognizing any of the parents I’d gotten to know last year. “Auntie Brooke,” Hunter raced over me. “There’s agirlplaying on my team.”
His tone was full of shock.
I looked over his head, seeing a girl with a blonde ponytail poking out of her baseball cap. “I think I remember reading somewhere that girls can—”
But Hunter had darted off again before I could finish my statement. The coach introduced himself, and a few dads volunteered to help with practice. The kids were grouped together to go through different stations: batting, fielding, pitching, and catching.
I opened my chair and took my seat off to the side when I noticed a man pacing the hill, his phone pressed against his ear. He stood out because he still wore pressed slacks and a button-down shirt. The other moms and dads were dressed casually in jeans and T-shirts.
I scanned the faces to try and figure out which kid was his. All the kids wore pants or shorts with T-shirts, and a few wore baseball hats. Other than the lone girl, no one stood out.
The man finally lowered his phone and turned back toward practice. With long strides, he ate up the distance between us. I couldn’t look away. Brown hair, neatly trimmed beard. It was Ben. What was he doing there? Was he visiting a niece or nephew like I was?
He casually scanned the group of parents sitting in chairs or standing and young siblings running around the area before he spotted me. I sucked in a breath, wishing the sight of him didn’t affect me so much. I told myself it was just a surprise seeing him after so much time.
He didn’t stop until he stood at my side. “What are you doing here?”
I nodded toward the field. “Same thing I expect you’re doing. Watching my nephew.” I assumed it was a nephew since there were mainly boys. “Or is it your niece?”
His gaze met mine. “My daughter.”
“Your daughter?” I croaked. How had I missed the fact that Ben had a kid? Was he married?
“Cameron. But she goes by Cammie.” He nodded toward the mound where she stood. One of the coaches was demonstrating how to grip the ball.
“She’s yours.” I was repeating myself because I was so shocked that Ben had a daughter. I couldn’t reconcile it with what I knew about him. We were both voted most likely to succeed. He had dreams of moving to a big city and becoming a CEO. Kids didn’t seem to fit with the picture I had of him in my head. I’d imagined him in some corporate office, kicking ass, not taking his daughter to practice.
He tipped his head to the side, considering me. “Why is that surprising?”
“I didn’t know you’d married.” Our mothers were friends when we were kids, but they weren’t close anymore.
“I didn’t.” His jaw tightened. “I moved here to be close to my parents. I need the help, and I hope living in a small town will be good for her.”
Something tightened inside me. “It was for us.”
I loved growing up in a small town and living close to my family. I couldn’t imagine not being able to help my sister out or attend most of my nephew’s games.
Ben shifted his weight, and I racked my brain for something to get him to stay. I was getting a glimpse into his life over the past ten years, and I wanted more. “You were living in Philadelphia before?”
That night at the garage, I remembered he’d told Jake he’d driven from Philadelphia.
He nodded. “That’s right.”
I wanted to ask where Cammie’s mother was, but it wasn’t my place, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Even if Ben was single, our shops were in direct competition with each other. Nothing could happen between us. There was too much history there.
Ben tipped his head toward the field in a confident move that had my tummy dipping. “Which one is your nephew?”
“Hunter, the one in the Orioles uniform. He takes baseball pretty seriously,” I said jokingly.
Instead of smiling, he sighed. “Cammy does, too. She insisted on playing baseball with the boys. She couldn’t understand why girls would play a different sport. You should have heard her. ‘Why do girls play with a bigger ball?’ ‘Why is it called softball when the ball isn’t soft?’ ‘Why can’t girls play with the boys?’ And on and on. I had to google the history of softball, and now I know more than I ever wanted to know.”
