Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3)(72)

Gail tossed her shiny red hair. “Listen, Colleen,” she said, her voice already tight. “About Savvi playing...” Gail was the only one who used Savannah’s sappy nickname, and insisted that it end in an i, preferably topped with a heart. “This is her last game. We’ll be focusing on cheerleading from here on out.”

Savannah looked at the ground.

“Oh, yeah?” Colleen said. “Do you like cheerleading, hon?”

“I guess,” Savannah muttered.

Colleen gave her father a sharp look. He returned it blankly.

“Cheering will be a better sport for you, sweetie pie!” Gail said. “You look really pretty in that little outfit, too. Stand up straight, Savvi. It makes you look perky.”

“Well, you look great in catcher’s gear, too, Savannah,” Colleen said. “Very kick-ass.”

Gail narrowed her eyes, then looked away in distaste, as if Colleen were a shmooshed porcupine rotting on the side of the road. Colleen narrowed back. But now wasn’t the time to argue, not in front of Savannah, not in front of the crowd, which was thick tonight with tourists and townies alike.

Motherhood obviously hadn’t given Gail the type of daughter she’d thought she’d preordered. She’d wanted a gorgeous little doll, a girly-girl who loved clothes and nail polish and long hair...ironically, a little girl like Colleen had been. Not a sturdy tomboy who’d asked for a poster of Jorge Posada for her last birthday.

“Okay, Dad, Mother Gail,” Colleen said, earning another glare. “See you later! Come on, Savannah, let’s go.”

“Go get ’em, tiger,” Dad said, and Savannah grinned over her shoulder. “I’ll be watching!”

Colleen felt the familiar pang. She should be more like Connor, who’d given up on Dad long ago.

“Collie, I don’t know if I should be a cheerleader,” Savannah said mournfully. “Some of the girls are mean.”

“How are they mean?”

Her sister swallowed. “They just are. The way they look at me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Someone said I was fat, and no one talked to me at tryouts.”

Colleen’s jaw clamped tight. “You’re not fat, sweetheart. You’re strong.”

“I’m chubby.”

“Honey, people come in all shapes and sizes.”

“I wish I looked like you.”

The words were stated with such hopelessness that Colleen stopped and dropped to her knees. “Savannah, you’re wonderful. Do you know that? You’re so funny and smart and I love being with you. I always have. You also happen to be absolutely adorable. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.” She smiled. “Don’t tell Connor, he’ll get jealous.”

Savannah smiled, but her eyes stayed sad.

“And Dad’s crazy about you. No one wants you to be anything but exactly who you are.”

Except Gail-the-Tail-Chianese-Rhymes-with-Easy-Hyphen-O’Rourke. Savannah’s mother.

“I wish I could keep playing baseball,” Savannah whispered.

“I’ll talk to them,” Colleen promised. “We’ll see what we can do, okay?”

Paulie Petrosinsky was coming onto the field. Perfect. A role model of physical strength in an unconventional package. “Over here, Paulie!” Colleen called. “Do you know my sister? Savannah O’Rourke, meet Paulie Petrosinsky, my friend.”

“What’s up, kid?” Paulie said, fist-bumping Savannah. “Word on the street is you’re the best player in town.”

Savannah’s face lit up. “Thanks,” she said.

Well, well, well. Colleen owed Paulie a drink on the house.

The three of them went into the dugout, where the rest of the team was assembled, pulling on gloves and cleats. “Coll, wrong shirt,” said Kelly Murphy, Shannon’s sister and part of the Murderer’s Row of the O’Rourke offense.

“I know, I know,” she said. “I have to play for Stoakes tonight.”

“You gonna throw the game?” Bryce asked, coming down the steps to the dugout. Paulie’s face began its burn.

“I won’t have to, because we’re so superior. Gang, today we have a new player. Paulie, welcome!”

“Hi, Paulie,” everyone said. Connor cocked an eyebrow, all too aware of the matchmaking in progress.

“Bryce, would you help Paulie with her glove? She’s never played baseball before.” A lie, but hey.

“Seriously, dude? This is gonna be fun,” Bryce said. “I bet you’re a natural.”

The goal had been secured: a physically close moment. Paulie had been instructed to ask for help as much as possible.

Bryce gave the glove a tug, his hand on Paulie’s wrist. “Looks good!” He slapped her shoulder and trotted out to the mound.

“He touched me,” Paulie whispered, her breathing fast and shallow.

“Okay, don’t faint. I have to go. Keep an eye on Savannah for me? She’s a little blue.” Plus, if Paulie was good with kids, as she seemed to be, Bryce could see her as the potential mother of his children.

It was hard to be in charge of the world, Colleen mused as she trotted out to the shortstop position. Savannah was clearly dejected. Gail kept gesturing from the bleachers...probably some horrid advice like “suck in your stomach.” It was throwing off Savannah’s game.