Chapter 4
By the third time Mia checked her watch, Natalie had stopped pretending not to notice.
Dom watched the parking lot while Benny carried Mia's pink bat bag over one shoulder.
"You know I'm not your pack mule," Benny told her.
"Mom says helping builds character."
Benny glanced at Natalie. "She's getting dangerous."
Mia grinned and tucked a bag of salted sunflower seeds into the seat of her bright pink jacket. They were Luca's favorite. He had left a voice message that morning promising to arrive before the first pitch.
The game began at two.
Every time an inning ended, Mia looked toward the parking lot. She did it casually at first. By the fourth inning, she had stopped pretending too.
"His meeting probably ran late," she said through the fence.
"Probably," Natalie answered.
She would not invent an excuse for Luca. She also would not take away the hope he had given their daughter.
In the last inning, Mia drove a line ball into left field and ran until her helmet slipped over one eye. She reached third standing while her teammates screamed from the dugout.
Natalie caught most of it on her phone.
She sent the video to Luca with two words: She did it.
The message remained unread.
After the team picture, Coach Harper invited everyone to Nino's for pizza. Mia left her jacket spread across the bleacher seat.
"We can wait five minutes," she said. "He might be looking for us."
Natalie sat beside her.
The groundskeeper collected the bases. Parents folded chairs and carried coolers toward their cars. Benny returned with three paper cups and placed Luca's beside the sunflower seeds.
Five minutes became ten.
"We can go," Mia finally said.
She tried to make it sound like she had simply become bored.
Natalie's phone rang before they reached the parking lot. Luca's name appeared on the screen.
Mia answered before Natalie could.
"Dad? You missed it."
Luca's voice came through the speaker, rough and hurried. "I know, peanut. I'm sorry. Serena had a scare at the doctor's office. I heard the baby's heartbeat and lost track of the time."
Mia looked at Natalie, confused. The word baby had not yet been explained to her.
"What baby?"
Silence answered first.
"Put your mother on."
Mia handed over the phone.
"You haven't told her," Natalie said.
"Not over the phone. Bring her home."
"She just won a playoff game. You can start by talking to her about that."
Luca took a breath. "Did you get a hit?"
Mia leaned toward the phone. "A triple. There were three people on base."
"Three runs?"
"Yes."
"Then I missed the best part."
"Mom recorded it."
"Send it again. I'll watch before you get home."
Mia's shoulders relaxed a little. She was still disappointed, but she was not broken. Children could hold love and anger in the same small body without choosing one.
"We're going to Nino's," she told him. "You can come if the doctor is done."
"I'll try."
Mia frowned at the phone. "Don't say try if you mean maybe."
Luca was quiet for half a second. "Maybe."
"Okay."
At Nino's, the team had saved three slices and one chair. Luca arrived before the ice melted in Mia's second soda.
He entered without Sal, still wearing his charcoal suit. His tie was crooked, and for once he did not look like the man who owned every room he entered. He looked like a father who knew he had arrived late.
Mia did not run to him. She held up the dirty game ball.
"You missed it."
"I did."
"You can't act like the video is the same."
"It isn't."
He sat on the edge of the bench and watched the entire clip twice. Then he asked Mia to explain where every runner had been.
Serena called while he was listening. Luca silenced the phone without looking at Natalie.
It was not enough to repair what he had done. It was enough to show Natalie what made him dangerous.
Luca could fail someone and still know how to make them want him back.
When Mia went to refill her soda, he turned to Natalie.
"You told her nothing."
"It was your truth to tell."
"St. Anthony's brunch is Sunday. Serena intends to attend."
"Are you asking my permission?"
"I'm warning you."
Natalie looked toward their daughter, who was trying to balance two plastic cups and a plate of garlic knots.
"Then here's mine," she said. "Mia is not where you hide the consequences."
Luca's eyes held hers. "Neither is my unborn child."
For the first time, Natalie understood that Serena was not a passing indulgence he planned to discard.
The fight was not over a woman.
It was over the life Luca believed he had the right to keep in duplicate.