Swing and a Mishap (Summersweet Island 2)

“Looks like you might have to deal with Shepherd a little sooner than you thought,” Birdie tells me as I drop my head to the counter and smack it a few times. “You needed something to shake up your life. This could be a lot of much-needed fun for you.”

Not only did my son get my looks and my height, but he also got my love of the same professional baseball player, so that’s fun for me right about now. While Owen continues to berate me from the living room for not telling him his favorite baseball player in the world and the reason why he became a center fielder is on the island, I continue smacking my head against the counter, hoping to knock something loose that will give me the strength to deal with this.CHAPTER 5Wren

“I’d hit that.”“But did you see that ass? My God. My husband never had a round, firm ass like that, even when he was a teenager. It looks even better in person than it does on TV.”

“Tisa talked to him last night right when he got to the island and said his laugh still sounds like warm, melted chocolate is being poured over your body.”

“Sharon Worsham saw him jogging on the beach this morning shirtless and spilled her coffee right down the front of her shirt, and her boobs got third-degree burns. She said it was totally worth it. I’ll forward you the photo she sent me. That man is ripped. He was hot in high school, but this is on another level.”

“Taryn Johnston saw him at Summersweet Grocery and sent me a picture when he was in the produce section getting grapefruit. Look at those biceps testing out the firmness of that fruit.”

“Zoom in. Oh my God, I think I just got pregnant. Taryn is doing the Lord’s work. Send that one to me too.”

“Me three! I need something new for my diddle files, since I—”

“Ladies!” I finally shout, turning around and narrowing my eyes at the moms sitting in the bleachers a few feet behind me on the other side of the chain-link fence I’m leaning against, all hovered around someone’s phone. “There are teenage boys present. Can we tone it down a bit, please?”

Uuugh, why do I always have to be a mom?

The cluster of women immediately stops gossiping about the man who kept me up all night, and I immediately feel bad. My irritation right now isn’t really with them; although, if I have to listen to one more person talk about how hot Shepherd Oliver is, I might light this entire baseball field on fire.

“Sorry! Just a little tired and crabby today,” I quickly explain with a small laugh, not wanting them to be mad at me.

They all give me sad, sympathetic smiles, and I try my hardest not to let it bother me, but I fail. It always bothers me when people look at me with pity, but I just smile and pretend like it doesn’t. Poor single mom Wren, who has a douchebag loser as a baby daddy. I’m not the only single mom on Summersweet Island, not by a longshot. I’m just the only single mom with no life outside of work and her son. Where those moms are living their best life swiping right, most of my excitement comes from swiping my comforter back from my bed and face-planting into my pillow.

“I’ll send you the shirtless picture of Shepherd Oliver on the beach. That will cheer you right up.” Ashley Morgan nods at me with a confident smile.

“Please don’t,” I mutter, when I hear the crack of a bat and realize I’m supposed to be coaching baseball practice.

On top of a massive hangover headache from hell and bone-weary exhaustion I haven’t felt since my son was a colicky newborn, with Owen’s team not having a coach right now and a big tournament coming up soon, I organized a small group of parents who know a lot about baseball to help fill in after our coach quit a few weeks ago. I wasn’t supposed to be in charge of practice again until tomorrow, but Alex’s dad has the flu, and I’m the only other parent coach who doesn’t work off the island and has a more flexible schedule to be able to be here right after school gets out.

I’m always the only other parent who has a more flexible schedule and no life.

“Nice one, Dominic!” I clap and shout to the right fielder who just made a beautiful running catch of a pop-up, paying attention to practice instead of feeling sorry for myself. I have one of the seniors on varsity helping out tonight by hitting pop-ups over and over to the outfielders. I give Dominic a high-five against his glove he holds up for me when he jogs in from the outfield. “Head over to the batting tee to get some hitting drills in, and send Max out here to me when you get there.”