Washington - For Mike's Sake (Americana 47 - Washington)

CHAPTER ONE

THE COMPACT CONVERTIBLE zipped down the street, trees leafed out into full foliage to shade the lawns on either side.
The car's top was down, wind ruffling the scarlet gold hair of the driver, dressed in snug fitting Levi's and a blue madras blouse with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
Expertly shifting down to make a running stop at an intersection, Maggie Rafferty saw no traffic approaching and let the little car dart across. Ahead was the ball park and Maggie slowed the car to turn into the small graveled lot near the stand.
Stopped, she lifted the smoke gray sunglasses from her nose and perched them on her head. Her green eyes scanned the cluster of young boys as she pressed a hand on the horn.
Instantly one separated himself from the others and ran toward her, a baseball glove in his hand.
He paused once to wave at the group, backpedaling toward the car.
"See ya Friday, guys!" When he hopped into the passenger seat he was faintly breathless, his dark eyes glittering with excitement. "Hi!"
"Hi, yourself." Maggie smiled, tiny dimples appearing in her cheeks. "Sorry I'm late. I hope you didn't have to wait too long."
"That's okay." He shrugged away the apology, absently punching a fist into his glove. "I'm getting used to you always being late," he said with the patient indulgence of an adult.
"Thanks a lot, Mike." She laughed and reached over to tug the bill of his baseball cap low on his forehead.
Punctuality had never been one of her virtues, but she didn't need a ten-year-old son reminding her of it.
"Hey, come on!"
Mike protested the action, removing his cap and putting it back on at the correct angle. Its momentary removal revealed coal black hair, a shade darker than his eyes.
Maggie's gaze skimmed his profile, lighting on the sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. They were the only thing he might have inherited from her. "I told you not to do that."
"Sorry, I forgot." Which wasn't totally true. Mike believed himself to be too old for hugging and kissing. It embarrassed him.
Maggie couldn't smother the urge to touch him and love him, so she hid it under the guise of teasing pokes and gestures.
"Are we going home or not?" he prompted.
"Yes, right now."
As she turned toward the door to took over her shoulder for traffic before reversing into the street, Maggie's gaze was caught by the man standing on the driver's side of a station wagon parked beside her.
Tall, in his thirties, with light brown hair and hazel eyes, he was very good-looking, as suntanned as a lifeguard.
The look in his eyes was decidedly admiring in his inspection of her. His mouth quirked into a smile, accompanied by a slight nod of his head in silent greeting.
Maggie returned the smile and the nod without hesitation. One of Mike's teammates raced around the station wagon to climb in the passenger seat, and Maggie breathed out a sigh of regret. Why were the good-looking ones always married with a little wife waiting at home?
She flipped the sunglasses down on her nose and reversed into the empty street.
"How was your first practice?" The Little League baseball season was just beginning. Maggie didn't want to think about the hectic summer schedule that would be ahead.
"Great. The coach says I'm going to make a good utility man, 'cause I can play any position on the field…except pitcher, of course. Maybe I should practice pitching."
He considered the idea.
"Instead of being good at every position, you should concentrate on one or two and become the best at those."
"I guess," Mike conceded. "I've gotta improve on my hitting. I didn't do too well today."
"It's only your first practice," Maggie reminded him.
"Yeah, I know. Coach said he'd give me a few pointers about switch-hitting and all if I'd come earlier than the other guys for practice. Do you suppose you could manage to bring me early?"
"You wouldn't have been late today if Aaron hadn't called from the office just as we were leaving." Maggie correctly interpreted the question as a slur on her character.
"Yeah, but you always leave everything to the last minute. Then when something comes up, we're always late."
"We'll get an earlier start next time," she promised.
There was a flash of blue at the end of a side street, the shimmer of sunlight off the smooth surface of water.
In Seattle there always seemed to be a flash of blue around the corner, whether from a lake or an inlet or Puget Sound itself.
"You don't have to take me. I could always walk."
"We've been through that before, Mike." Her mouth was set in a firm line, irritation sparking through her that he should bring up the subject when she had made her feelings so plain on it before. "It's too far for you to walk."
"It wouldn't be too far if I had a bike, a ten-speed. I saw one the—"
"Your birthday is coming up."
Mike groaned.
"Summer will almost be over by then!"
"If you'd taken better care of your old bike, you wouldn't be without one now."
"I only forgot to lock it that one time. How was I supposed to know someone was going to come along and steal it?"
"I hope it taught you a lesson and you'll be more careful with your next bike."
"If you're going to get me a bike for my birthday, do I have to wait clear till then? Couldn't I have it early?"
"We'll see."
"Maybe if I wrote dad, he'd buy me one now," he muttered, not content with her half promise.
Maggie gave him an angry sidelong look.
"You just ruined your chances of getting a bike before your birthday. I've told you repeatedly that you aren't going to play me and your father off against each other. If you persuade him to buy you a bike before your birthday, I'll lock it up until your birthday. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," Mike grumbled, hanging his head, his mouth thinning into a sulking pout.
Concealing a sigh, Maggie let her green eyes look back to the road. God, how she hated playing the heavy-handed parent!
But she had little choice, really. Mike was only behaving as any child of divorced parents would. If she let him get away with his emotional blackmail, he'd be walking all over her. And nobody walked over her, certainly not her own son.
"It isn't so bad, is it?" she asked, trying to ease the friction between them. "To have me take you to practice?"
"No, it isn't so bad," he agreed glumly.
"From now on, I'll make sure you're there early so the coach can give you some tips on hitting, okay?"
"Okay."
As she glanced at him, Mike gave her a sideways look through thick black lashes. A sudden, impish light glittered in his dark eyes. "I know why you're going to get me there early. It's the coach, isn't it?"
One thing about Mike, he never held a grudge, a trait that was totally his own.
Maggie smiled. "The coach?" She didn't follow his comment.
"Yeah, the coach." There was a knowing grin on his face. "I saw the way he looked at you."