Michael’s expression cleared. “Uh, yeah. I guess you’re right.”
Savannah frowned. “Thanks a lot, both of you.”
Michael seemed to realize that his words hadn’t gone a long way toward endearing him to his mother. “I didn’t mean you aren’t pretty or anything. It’s just that Christopher Pace goes out with women who are…like, the glamorous type, you know? You…well, you’re a mom,” he explained earnestly.
Savannah was feeling older and dowdier by the moment. “We’d better go,” she said, glancing pointedly at her watch. “Don’t forget your cap.”
“Hold on. I want to get my purse,” Miranda said, dropping her empty cola can into the recycling bin with a clatter.
Savannah lifted an eyebrow. “You’re going to the game?”
Miranda hated baseball. She had recently declared that she was never going to that “loud, dusty, tacky” ballpark again, not even to cheer for her brother’s team.
“Well, yeah,” Miranda answered casually, not quite meeting Savannah’s eyes. “Michael’s playing tonight, and I think we should both be there for moral support, don’t you?”
Her brother snorted loudly.
Savannah looked at her mother, feeling resigned to the inevitable. “Would you like to join us, Mother?”
“Not tonight, thank you. I’m rather tired. You won’t mind if I miss your game, will you, Michael?”
He shook his head. “That’s okay, Grandma. You get some rest. Man, I can’t believe Christopher Pace is going to be there. Wait’ll the guys hear about this.”
Ernestine turned away.
Savannah suspected that Michael had just unwittingly hurt his grandmother’s feelings. “Are you sure you won’t come with us?” she asked again. “It’ll be fun.”
“Thank you, dear, but I have some letters to write. You three run along and have a nice time.”
Guilt. Ernestine wielded it so very well, Savannah thought ruefully.
If Kit could cause this much uproar in her own family, Savannah mused with an apprehensive shake of her head, how much worse would it be at the ballpark?
SAVANNAH SOON FOUND out exactly how awkward it could be to be seen with a celebrity in Campbellville, Georgia. Everyone at the field seemed to turn and stare when she walked in with Kit, who’d been waiting for her at the gate.
Not that she could blame them, exactly. In his colorful knit pullover and close-fitting jeans, with his luxurious dark hair brushed into a casual, windblown style, he was probably the most gorgeous male who’d ever entered the ten-year-old Joe Don Blankenship Memorial Park.
He was definitely the only Academy-Award winner who’d ever done so.
Savannah hated it that she was suddenly reminded again of the time she’d spent with Vince Hankins. As the local golden boy, he’d always attracted attention whenever he and Savannah were seen about town.
Everyone had watched them, everyone had talked about them—and for a while, everyone had wanted to be like them. And Vince had thrived on the adulation. Until, of course, Savannah had ruined it all. That was the way Vince had seen it. Savannah had screwed up. Not him, of course.
Pushing those old, tired memories out of her mind, she held her chin high and looked for a seat. She heard the whispers as she and Kit and Miranda made their way up the crowded metal bleachers to a bench with enough room for them to sit together. Miranda made sure that Kit sat in the middle, so that she could be see
n next to him. She obviously took great pride in showing her friends that she was on easy terms with this famous man.
“Are you really Christopher Pace?” a teenager with a bad haircut and a worse complexion asked only minutes after they sat down.
Kit nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“Cool. So how come you killed off Mick O’Malley in the last book, huh? I really liked him. Couldn’t you, like, bring him back to life in the next one or something?”
Savannah thought Kit did an admirable job of appearing to consider the suggestion. And then he shook his head.
“I really can’t,” he said with just a touch of apology. “There was a body, you know. All his co-workers saw him go down. The guy’s dead. But I’ve got a few new characters in the wings that I hope you’ll like as well.”
Somewhat appeased, the boy nodded.