The ballpark was crowded that evening, leaving few seats available in the inadequately sized bleachers. Savannah wondered if so many spectators had shown up because it was an important game, or because there’d been a chance that Christopher Pace would be there. And then she scolded herself again for assuming that everyone was interested in her business.
Still, she had the uncomfortable sensation that many eyes were on her as she climbed the bleacher steps. It was something she was just going to have to get used to if she continued her affair with Kit, she told herself flatly. And then frowned as she recognized the term she’d used to describe their relationship. Affair. It sounded so tawdry.
She wondered if that was how everyone else saw it.
Spotting an empty stretch of metal bench, Savannah touched Miranda’s arm. “There’s a place.”
Miranda glanced that way, then quickly back at her mother, her eyes suddenly wide and distressed. “Not there, Mom. Let’s find another seat,” she whispered urgently.
Surprised, Savannah looked again at
the seat in question. Marie Butler and Lucy Bettencourt sat right behind the open space, and were watching Savannah openly. Savannah knew they must be there to watch Lucy’s grandson, the team’s star pitcher.
“Isn’t there someplace else we can sit?” Miranda asked.
Savannah abruptly remembered seeing Lucy and Marie at the restaurant the evening before. She was just about to ask her daughter if the town gossips had said something to her when someone behind her yelled, “Hey, are you going to stand there blocking the aisle all day?”
“Here’s a seat, Savannah,” Lucy called out cheerfully, pointing to the bench in front of her. “Hello, Ernestine. Nice evening, isn’t it?”
Short of an outright snub, Savannah could think of no way to avoid sitting in front of Lucy and Marie. She nodded in response to their cheery greetings and slid onto the bench after her mother. Miranda hesitated only a moment before sitting beside Savannah, though she kept her eyes firmly trained on the players warming up on the field, ignoring the women behind her.
“Your friend isn’t with you today?” Lucy asked as Savannah nodded a greeting. “We saw you at the restaurant last night. You all looked quite cozy.”
“Kit has gone back to L.A.,” Savannah repeated with forced patience. “He had business to attend to.”
Lucy and Marie exchanged meaningful looks.
“I suppose our little Campbellville doesn’t have much to offer a man who’s used to all those wild Hollywood parties and all,” Marie murmured. “Didn’t I read somewhere that he once dated Julia Roberts?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Savannah replied a bit stiffly. “I don’t read the gossip rags, myself.”
She turned to face the field. She heard Lucy and Marie whispering avidly behind her back, though she couldn’t hear what they were saying.
Miranda shot a look of disgust over her shoulder, then leaned toward her mother. “Don’t listen to them,” she murmured. “They don’t even know Kit.”
Savannah nodded and forced herself to concentrate on the game that was just starting.
“Hey, Mom, look.” Miranda pointed to the outfield. “Isn’t that Michael going in at shortstop?”
“Why, yes, it is.” Savannah was pleasantly surprised that the coach had allowed Michael to start. Michael must be delighted, she thought proudly.
“I bet Nick’s mad,” Miranda commented. “He usually starts as shortstop. But Michael said coach is still pretty mad at Nick for acting up so bad at the last game.”
Savannah winced and glanced automatically toward Ernie Whitley, who was sitting close to the fence, obviously mouthing his displeasure that his son had been left on the bench.
This wouldn’t help Michael’s already rocky friendship with Nick, Savannah realized. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned.
It was quickly apparent that a few extra lessons and a little personal attention hadn’t turned Michael into a star baseball player. The first grounder that came his way went right between his feet And when he did manage to scramble for it, he overthrew second base by several yards, allowing the opposing player to take an extra base.
Miranda groaned and hid her face in her hands.
Savannah heard Lucy whisper something to Marie about Michael getting “special treatment” because he was a friend of “that Hollywood writer.” She wanted very badly to turn around and give Lucy a piece of her mind. For one thing, Lucy’s son was the coach. If he was giving Michael special treatment, then Lucy should be criticizing her own son, not Michael.
It was so unfair, Savannah fumed, for anyone to be unpleasant to her children because they didn’t approve of her relationship with Kit—whether from jealousy or moral judgment, or whatever the reason. Why should her children have to suffer because of her actions? And wasn’t this exactly the reason she’d left Serendipity Island the way she had—to keep her own indiscretions from affecting her family?
And then Michael caught a fly ball for the first out. Michael looked almost as surprised as his teammates to find the ball in his mitt
Savannah and Miranda and even Ernestine cheered heartily. Savannah resisted sending a smug look over her shoulder. And she couldn’t help noticing that Nick Whitley was scowling as he watched from the dugout.