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  “That’s what Coach Q said,” Josh said, “but you never know, right? I mean, someone has to win that thing.”

  Josh looked past Jaden, searching the dimly lit faces in the crowd for a sign of his father. He knew from the texts they’d sent back and forth during the week—and from the fact that he saw her at every game cheering for Zamboni like a maniac—that Josh’s dad hadn’t had a chance to confront Diane yet. Josh figured that now was the moment…at least, he hoped it was.

  “All the parents brought food and soda,” Josh’s mom said. “I had a bunch of stuff left over from a wedding we catered this afternoon. I guess everyone wanted to celebrate. There are some chocolate-covered strawberries I know you boys will love, but you better get some before they’re gone.”

  “Is Dad coming back?” Josh asked, still searching the crowd.

  “I have no idea what your father will do,” his mom said, clearly annoyed.

  When Josh spotted his dad, it was over in the shadows where people had parked cars by the grass to make room for the party. He stood in front of Diane’s Audi, gesturing at her with his hands while Zamboni stood looking with his mouth hanging open. Suddenly Diane—who’d been shaking her head—burst into tears. She pointed to Zamboni and he got into the car.

  Josh’s dad looked like he was still yelling at Diane when he brought his face close to hers and she slapped him hard enough to jar his head sideways.

  Diane then jumped into the Audi and raced off with a yip of her tires when she hit the street. Without bothering to see if anyone else had witnessed the fight, Josh started toward his father, calling out to him.

  If Josh’s dad heard him, it made no difference.

  His dad got into the new Camaro and took off in the direction Diane had already disappeared. Josh could only stand and watch until the last red flash was swallowed up by the night.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  JOSH LAY IN BED staring at the slanted ceiling close enough to his face that he reached out and ran a finger along a crack in its sandy surface. His stomach clenched and twisted, and sleep danced like a tiny figure in the distance of his mind, miles away. He rolled on his side and took his phone from the nightstand, cracking it open so that blue light filled the small space of covers, pillows, and slanted ceiling.

  No messages.

  Josh dialed his father’s phone again, getting voice mail right away. He snapped the phone shut and lay back again, trying to recall if he had ever felt this helpless before at any time in his life.

  The hope that his father would soon be home and life back to normal had grown so large that it crowded his brain and, still, something smelled wrong. How could his father have chased after Diane when she hit him like that? How could he not have ended it by now? None of it made sense to Josh, and the fact that it didn’t make sense scared him, because he knew that in the world adults called their own, sometimes insanity ruled.

  At the sound of a car coming down the street, Josh grabbed his covers. The low, smooth rumble got closer. Josh bolted up from his bed, banging his head on the ceiling. He didn’t care. He scrambled to the window, threw it open, and slipped out onto the roof. His toes curled, bare feet clinging to the rough surface of the tar-paper shingles, and his hands gripped the corner of the house so he could peer around front, down the driveway, and into the street.

  What he saw almost made him fall. Then he wanted to jump.

  Resting at the bottom of his driveway was the red Camaro. The driver’s side door opened, and Josh saw the enormous shadow of his father get out. But when the car’s inside light went on, Josh could also clearly see, sitting in the passenger seat and looking into the mirror like she belonged there, Diane Cross.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  JOSH’S HANDS SLIPPED FROM the corner of the house and he waved his arms to keep his balance. When he found it, he froze, unable to move. His bare feet clung to the roof and he stood half crouched like the survivor of some terrible shipwreck. As his father’s giant figure strode up the driveway, Josh could only stare. When his father reached the side door at the kitchen beneath Josh, he stopped and looked up with his face awash in the glow of the streetlight from two doors down.

  “Josh?” his father said. “What in the world are you doing up there?”

  His father’s voice carried with it more than a hint of anger.

  “I’ll get down,” Josh said.

  “No,” his father said, “you can stay right there. I don’t need you messing around any more than you already have.”

  “I’ve been trying to call you,” Josh said.

  “My phone is off,” his father said. “I needed you to hear this face-to-face, Josh. Man-to-man. What you did? I guess a part of me understands it, but I’m so disappointed. That’s not even the right word. I’m disgusted at what you did.”

  Josh felt one foot slipping. He lost his balance and thought he’d fall for certain. That frightened him more because he thought his father wouldn’t even try to catch him than because of what the fall would do.

  His hands grasped desperately at the side of the house and found a cable TV wire. Instead of falling to the blacktop, Josh grabbed hold of the cable and turned in midair, his knees scraping the tar-paper shingles before he righted himself on his hands and knees, clinging to the roof now like a cat.

  “Get back inside,” his father said. “I don’t want you breaking your neck.”

  “Why does that even matter to you,” Josh said, spitting the words out with as much poison as he could muster.

  “You’re still my son, Josh,” his father said, almost weary now. “I still love you, but telling lies about people, trying to make them look bad, that’s one of the worst things you can do. That’s no way to go through life, and you have to know that. I have to teach you, whether I live here or not. I’m still your father.”

  “What lies are you talking about?” Josh asked, his voice rising.

  His father huffed and folded his arms across his chest.

  “You know,” his father said in an annoyed tone. “Don’t make it worse by pretending.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Josh said, wrinkling his forehead.

  “Diane,” his father said, gritting his teeth in anger. “She met her ex-husband because they’re working out a custody situation for Marcus. She’s trying to keep him in that private school, and it costs money. She’s not seeing her ex. That…that kiss? Please, Josh. That was nothing. That’s how you’d kiss Gran. Diane is doing everything she can to take care of Marcus, and no one can blame her for that. That’s not her betraying me. The only one who did that was you.”

  “Dad…” Josh said, the words clogging up his throat like Kleenex in a drain.

  “Dad, yes,” said his father. “But does that mean I have to live according to whatever you want? You think it doesn’t matter what’s going on in my life? Is it really all about you?”

  “It’s not,” Josh said, his hands groping the rough shingles to keep from slipping off the edge.

  “You’re right,” his dad said. “It’s not. I’ve found someone who makes me happy and you want to destroy it? You’ve got to grow up, Josh. You can’t just get everything you want.”

  Josh couldn’t even speak.

  “Part of me doing what I have to do is coaching the Titans,” his dad said, “and we’ve got a tournament in Philadelphia. Another part of me thinks we need to get a little distance, have a cooling-off period. What I’m getting at is that I’m not going to be able to make the Little League World Series.”

  Josh felt a chill. He stared at his father’s dark, empty eyes and moved his head slowly from side to side instead of saying the word no.

  “Dad!” Josh leaned forward, urging the sound of his voice to break through the shell of his father’s heart, but his dad was already gone.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  WHEN JOSH OPENED HIS eyes, his mind whirled, remembering the night before and the angry words. He bolted upright, choked by panic, digging into t
he covers like a dog might go after a bone in a flower bed. He found his own legs and pressed his fingers into their muted flesh, still feeling nothing. A groan spilled from his lips. He swung his body sideways, stumbling as he left the bed.

  The burning needles he felt in his feet when he hit the floor added to the panic. He slapped at his legs as the burning grew, then realized they had only fallen asleep because of the twisted position in which he’d slept. Josh breathed deep and then began to laugh out loud.

  A soft knock sounded at the door and his mother said, “Josh? Come on. I thought you were desperate to do this thing. The Lidos are out front.”

  Josh thought about his father again, and the wound in his heart opened, flooding him with sickness. To play in the World Series without his father watching—no, with his father intentionally not watching—made it seem almost pointless.

  But as he pulled on his clothes, the thought of getting out onto those fields and just playing baseball against the best of the best from all over the world sparked his spirits again. He jogged down the stairs and downed a glass of juice before accepting a banana from his mom for something to eat on the ride.

  “Take that bag, too,” his mom said, pointing to the countertop. “I made some sandwiches for the bus trip. Enough for you and Benji both. You need to eat to win.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Josh said, kissing and hugging first his mom, then his little sister and grandmother before shooting out the kitchen door and climbing into Mr. Lido’s pickup truck.

  When they arrived at the school parking lot, Mr. Lido told them he’d be down the next day right after work to catch their first game.

  “Will you make it in time?” Benji asked.

  “Don’t worry,” Mr. Lido said, “I’m leaving work early. You think I’m crazy? What kind of dad would miss his kid playing in the World Series?”

  “Just my dad,” Josh said, the words spilling from his mouth.

  Mr. Lido gave Josh a questioning look and asked, “Really?”

  “Really,” Josh said.

  Mr. Lido’s face turned red. “Well, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure your dad has things he’s got to do, Josh.”

  “That’s okay, Mr. Lido,” Josh said. “I know what you mean. Thanks for the ride.”

  They got out, waved good-bye, and closed the passenger side door.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Benji said as they climbed the steps to the waiting bus. “He talks too much. That’s part of the reason he and my mom aren’t together. That’s what she says, at least.”

  Josh was too embarrassed about the whole thing with his father to even want to discuss it with Benji, so he didn’t. However, during the trip, he texted back and forth with Jaden, explaining to her what had happened and bemoaning that the situation looked hopeless, all the while keeping up a cool appearance with Benji.

  The two of them settled into their seats and plugged headsets into Benji’s compact DVD player to watch a copy of Benji’s favorite baseball movie, The Natural.

  Right before it ended, Jaden texted that Josh should contact his dad, text him, tell him how he felt, and let him know how much it would mean if he could come to even one game of the Series. Josh didn’t respond. He let the movie play out, enjoying with Benji when Roy Hobbs hit a ball so far and hard that it blew up the stadium lights. He and Benji smiled at each other.

  “You could do that someday, I swear,” Benji said.

  Josh felt his face warm and he offered Benji one of the sandwiches his mom made. When they finished eating, Benji put his head against the window and began to snooze. Josh took his phone out and, after half an hour of careful thought and writing and rewriting, he had a text to send to his father.

  dad. i no ur mad but i luv u n only

  want us 2 b togthr. im so sorry 4 what i

  did n that u feel bad. i wld do

  anything 2 hv u c me play in w

  series. pls pls come

  After that Josh stared out the window at the passing mountains and trees until Benji woke and the bus pulled into Williamsport, where banners hung across the street to greet the best Little League teams from around the world. The sidewalks downtown teemed with people packed together like schools of fish. The blue sky above was painted with streaks of white clouds.

  The bus carried them across the river and out to the International Complex, where the Little League Museum rested at the bottom of a hill. Above that the dormitories stood overlooking the field, the town, and the mountains in the distance. As Josh and his teammates got off the bus, a pleasant breeze brought the scent of fresh-cut grass, drawing them to the crest of the hill. Below, the V-shaped stadium stood empty and massive, patiently awaiting the forty thousand fans who would pack its seats and the surrounding hillside only nine days from now.

  The dream of making it that far, to the championship, bounced around the inside of Josh’s head like a Super Ball gone crazy. Six games, that’s all they had to win to be the world champions.

  Six games!

  The team got moved into their dorm rooms before orientation. Then they went to a picnic where the players not just from the eight U.S. regions but from all over the world—this year Japan, Mexico, China, Brazil, Saudi Arabia, Germany, Canada, and the Dominican Republic—got to mix and talk and exchange stories. After the picnic, buses took them to a place outside the town where eight enormous trucks waited to pull trailers that each held two entire teams as they went through the center of town in the middle of a giant parade. People lined the streets cheering for them, and the players waved back with giant grins.

  That night Josh and his teammates had chicken pot pies for dinner in the dining hall, then went swimming and milled about the activity center before having ice-cream sundaes and finally dropping off to sleep. The next morning the batting coach for the Boston Red Sox put on a hitting clinic, and Josh had to keep Benji—a rabid Red Sox fan—from marching right up to the man in the middle of his presentation to get a cap autographed. The excitement of the experience had steadily washed away the funk Josh felt over his father and family situation back home. But after the opening ceremonies and the team picture on the hill overlooking the stadium, when Benji’s mom and dad pulled him off to the side for a family photo of their own, Josh felt a stab of regret that his mom could only watch on TV and that his dad might not watch at all. He thought about the text and wondered if his dad would even read it.

  Josh looked around and noticed that Zamboni was doing the same kind of family photo. He knew Zamboni must be excited to have Right Cross there along with Diane, but he couldn’t help wondering if his own father knew about it, especially when Right Cross slipped his arm around Diane’s waist and pulled her close even after the picture had been taken. When they finished with their photo, Josh saw Diane separate from Right and Zamboni and move his way. He averted his eyes and began to shuffle off.

  He didn’t get far before Diane’s voice rose above the rest, calling his name out clearly.

  Josh could only stop and turn.

  “Josh,” she said, sounding hurt, “can I speak with you?”

  Josh said nothing. Diane leaned close and her voice turned cold.

  “Spying on me and showing your father that video wasn’t right,” she said, her eyes locking onto his. “Your father and I share something special. I know you may not like it, but I’m a part of his life and he’s a part of mine.”

  Rage boiled up inside of Josh. He tried to contain it as he said, “I’m not the one who kissed him, you are.” Josh pointed at Zamboni’s father.

  Diane looked around and lowered her voice. “What I do or don’t do with my ex-husband has nothing to do with you.”

  “It has something to do with my dad,” Josh said.

  “Well,” Diane said, forcing a smile. “Marcus’s father will be here all week, and your father already knows he’s here because I told him. It may not make sense to you, but honestly? This is about Marcus. He’s dreamed of this for years, and he wants his father here to see him.”
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  “I want my father here, too,” Josh said.

  Diane puckered her lips and said, “Well, that’s between you two. But I think how I get along with Marcus’s father is my own business, and the best thing for everyone is for you to mind yours, don’t you think, Josh?”

  Josh could only stare with his mouth hanging open.

  Diane stepped back, smiling and sweet now, and said, “So, we’ll be seeing you around, Josh. Good luck in the game.”

  Josh stared hatefully at her as she walked away.

  It was at that moment that someone tapped Josh on the shoulder.

  He turned around, shocked to see who it was.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  “I THOUGHT YOU WEREN’T going to be here until tomorrow,” Josh said. The Lyncourt team didn’t play its first game until the next afternoon.

  Jaden shrugged and grinned. “My dad was able to switch schedules with another doctor. He just dropped me off and went to check us into our motel. I begged him to come down early so I could spend some time with you guys before you got too distracted with the tournament.”

  Josh gave her a funny look and asked, “Really?”

  Jaden looked around, then lowered her voice and said, “That’s what I told him, but the real reason is them.”

  Josh looked back over his shoulder at Zamboni and his parents.

  “What about them?” he asked.

  “After we texted yesterday,” she said, “I had a hunch. I rode my bike over to where she lives and I saw them together again. They were packing her car for the trip, and they got in and took off, together! He left his car on the street just down from her house.”

  Josh waved her away with his hand, shaking his head. “It won’t work, Jaden. He doesn’t want to hear it. I told you that. My father is crazy mad. Showing him that picture ended up making them closer than they were before.”

  “That’s because she’s an expert liar,” Jaden said, narrowing her eyes. “But we’ve got the truth on our side.”