porch.
“I’ll get a cushion for the chair, Iona, if you want to come watch the game. We’ll sit in the shade.”
“I think I’ll stay here for a while. I canned beans today. The girls help, but they’re not like having a woman around. Lucky Ruth, to have Mrs. Stuart to help her.”
“Ruth said Mrs. Stuart came to live with them. Is she a widow?”
“She just appeared on their doorstep and told them that her husband had died. Wilbur hadn’t seen her in fifteen years. He didn’t know that she was married or that she’d had a child. She said that her husband had been a traveling man and they had lived in many different places. What could they do but take her in?”
“If she’s always lived in the city she may not be happy living on a farm.”
“She’s looking for a man to take care of her,” Iona said bluntly. “I mean that she and Ruth are looking. Ruth thinks Evan Johnson would be a good catch. She’s heard that he has a house in St. Joe and won’t be hanging around here for very long. I think she’s hoping that Evan or someone will marry Birdie and take her and the girl with him.”
“How does she plan to accomplish this?”
“She’s working on it. Started with the custard pie.” Iona laughed. “Just watch her.”
“Sounds to me like she’s not too happy having a sister-in-law in the house.”
“She’s got her hands full over there without having extras piled on her. From the looks of Birdie Stuart, she’s not too fond of hard work.”
“The game’s started.” Jill and Ruby May came around the corner of the house on the run. Jill threw the words back over her shoulder. “Jack’s gonna pitch.”
“Game’s started.” Joy came out of the house on the run, her friend Sylvia Taylor behind her. “Mama, the game’s started.”
Julie looked quickly at Iona Birch and saw the puzzled look on her face.
“She does that sometimes when she’s around other children who are talking about their mamas. She’s asked me where
her
mama is.”
“Poor little thing,” Iona said sadly. “It’s a good thing she has you, Julie.”
Regardless of their age, everyone who came to the neighborhood ball games played if they wanted to. The men and the older boys were wonderfully patient with the younger players and divided them between the two teams. Julie was pleased to see that Jason was on Jack’s team.
She sat on the quilt beside Myrtle Taylor and watched anxiously when it was Jason’s turn to bat. Jack was set to run for him if he hit the ball. Pete Birch pitched. Jason swung and missed the first pitch but gripped the bat with determination. When Pete threw another ball, Jason’s bat connected. The ball soared over the head of the outfielder and landed in the bushes that grew along the edge of the field. Knowing there was plenty of time for Jason to reach first base, Jack stepped aside so Jason could run.
With a victorious grin lighting his freckled face, Jason ran as fast as he could and stood proudly on first base as Evan came to bat.
“Hit a homer, Mr. Johnson,” Jason called.
On the first pitch Evan hit the ball far out into center field. Jason ran the bases. Yelling encouragement, Jack urged him on.
“Come on, Jason! Run! You’ll make it!”
When Jason crossed home plate, Jack caught him up and swung him around. The boy was so excited he failed to notice that Evan, running slowly along behind him, was forced to stop on third base.
“Did ya see that, Joe?” Jason yelled. “I made a score.” When his excitement cooled down, he ran down the sideline to where Evan stood on third. “That was a whopper of a hit, Mr. Johnson.”
“You didn’t do too bad yourself.”
“Mr. Taylor’s comin’ up to bat. He’s a good hitter. We’ll be ahead if you can get to home
“I’ll get a cushion for the chair, Iona, if you want to come watch the game. We’ll sit in the shade.”
“I think I’ll stay here for a while. I canned beans today. The girls help, but they’re not like having a woman around. Lucky Ruth, to have Mrs. Stuart to help her.”
“Ruth said Mrs. Stuart came to live with them. Is she a widow?”
“She just appeared on their doorstep and told them that her husband had died. Wilbur hadn’t seen her in fifteen years. He didn’t know that she was married or that she’d had a child. She said that her husband had been a traveling man and they had lived in many different places. What could they do but take her in?”
“If she’s always lived in the city she may not be happy living on a farm.”
“She’s looking for a man to take care of her,” Iona said bluntly. “I mean that she and Ruth are looking. Ruth thinks Evan Johnson would be a good catch. She’s heard that he has a house in St. Joe and won’t be hanging around here for very long. I think she’s hoping that Evan or someone will marry Birdie and take her and the girl with him.”
“How does she plan to accomplish this?”
“She’s working on it. Started with the custard pie.” Iona laughed. “Just watch her.”
“Sounds to me like she’s not too happy having a sister-in-law in the house.”
“She’s got her hands full over there without having extras piled on her. From the looks of Birdie Stuart, she’s not too fond of hard work.”
“The game’s started.” Jill and Ruby May came around the corner of the house on the run. Jill threw the words back over her shoulder. “Jack’s gonna pitch.”
“Game’s started.” Joy came out of the house on the run, her friend Sylvia Taylor behind her. “Mama, the game’s started.”
Julie looked quickly at Iona Birch and saw the puzzled look on her face.
“She does that sometimes when she’s around other children who are talking about their mamas. She’s asked me where
her
mama is.”
“Poor little thing,” Iona said sadly. “It’s a good thing she has you, Julie.”
Regardless of their age, everyone who came to the neighborhood ball games played if they wanted to. The men and the older boys were wonderfully patient with the younger players and divided them between the two teams. Julie was pleased to see that Jason was on Jack’s team.
She sat on the quilt beside Myrtle Taylor and watched anxiously when it was Jason’s turn to bat. Jack was set to run for him if he hit the ball. Pete Birch pitched. Jason swung and missed the first pitch but gripped the bat with determination. When Pete threw another ball, Jason’s bat connected. The ball soared over the head of the outfielder and landed in the bushes that grew along the edge of the field. Knowing there was plenty of time for Jason to reach first base, Jack stepped aside so Jason could run.
With a victorious grin lighting his freckled face, Jason ran as fast as he could and stood proudly on first base as Evan came to bat.
“Hit a homer, Mr. Johnson,” Jason called.
On the first pitch Evan hit the ball far out into center field. Jason ran the bases. Yelling encouragement, Jack urged him on.
“Come on, Jason! Run! You’ll make it!”
When Jason crossed home plate, Jack caught him up and swung him around. The boy was so excited he failed to notice that Evan, running slowly along behind him, was forced to stop on third base.
“Did ya see that, Joe?” Jason yelled. “I made a score.” When his excitement cooled down, he ran down the sideline to where Evan stood on third. “That was a whopper of a hit, Mr. Johnson.”
“You didn’t do too bad yourself.”
“Mr. Taylor’s comin’ up to bat. He’s a good hitter. We’ll be ahead if you can get to home
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