Stealing Home by Sherryl Woods Page B

don’t make a season.”
    “Don’t even make a practice, if you ask me,” Josh Mason, another teammate, said snidely. “Come opening day, I’ll be on the mound. You wait and see.”
    “No way, sucker,” Tyler retorted.
    “Okay, enough,” Cal told them. “Five minutes, guys. Tyler, why don’t you check in with your dad.”
    Ty scowled at the suggestion, but he grabbed a sports drink and slowly headed for the bleachers. Cal noted that he didn’t climb up beside his father but sat down several rows away. It was Bill who finally broke the awkward silence between them. Cal couldn’t hear what he said, but Tyler responded with a nod.
    At least the two of them were talking, or rather Bill was talking and Ty was listening. Cal wondered how long it had been since that had happened.
    He also couldn’t help wondering what Maddie had done to bring it about. He doubted it was a mere coincidence that Bill had shown up here today, just hours after Cal’s meeting with her. However it had come about, though, he was grateful. Maybe it was a first step in getting his star pitcher back in his groove. Maybe he’d call Maddie tonight and report on the change.
    “Idiot,” he muttered to himself as he beckoned the players back. He was just looking for an excuse to call Ty’s mother and that, as he’d warned himself only a few short hours ago, was a very bad idea.

6
    “D ad came by practice today,” Tyler announced nonchalantly while Maddie was on the patio grilling burgers for dinner that night.
    There was a balmy breeze that carried the scent of charcoal through the air. It was one of those scents that always reminded Maddie of summer and childhood and picnics with her friends’ families. Her own had never done anything as ordinary as cooking on a barbecue.
    She glanced up and studied her son’s expression. It was unreadable. “How’d it go?” she asked, careful to keep her tone neutral.
    “Okay, I guess,” he said. “At least he didn’t bring Noreen with him.”
    “Did the two of you talk?”
    “He asked me if it was okay for him to be there,” Tyler said, sounding surprised. He met Maddie’s gaze. “Do you think he really would have left if I’d asked him to?”
    She knew what he was really asking—if she thought his opinion really mattered to his dad. For all his attempted indifference, Ty was desperate to believe that he still counted in Bill’s life.
    “I imagine that’s why he asked,” she said. “He wants you to be happy and successful. He isn’t out to make your life miserable, Tyler. I think deep down you know that.”
    “He’s done a pretty good job of it, anyway,” Ty said with a trace of the familiar bitterness.
    “What else did you all talk about?” Maddie asked, anxious to change the subject before Ty started dwelling on all the sins Bill had committed against him and their family, rather than the olive branch he’d extended.
    “Nothing much. He gave me a couple of pointers on my fastball.”
    “Did they help?”
    Tyler grinned and for just an instant, he was a self-confident, cocky kid again.
    “Yeah, they helped. I threw some heat this afternoon,” he exulted. “No one laid a bat on my pitches after that. They said I was awesome, that we’re bound to win the state championship if I keep pitching like that. Even Josh Mason said I looked good, and he hates my guts. He wants that starting slot in the worst way.”
    “And Coach Maddox?”
    “He said it was nice to see me remembering at least some of the things I’d been taught.”
    Maddie bit back a grin at the coach’s laid-back response. “I suspect you were hoping for more enthusiasm.”
    “Naw, he says stuff like that to keep my head from getting all swollen.”
    She studied her son’s happy expression and regretted that she was about to dash some of his excitement, but this was a conversation she couldn’t put off. She’d hoped to temper it by fixing one of Ty’s favorite meals.
    What she’d learned from his other