Wandering Heart by Rita Hestand

later on. The more you can do the better. This is
a sophisticated world we live in and you need to know something
besides farming and baseball to get along."
    It sounded like
one of Greg's speeches, and she knew it. She didn't feel this way,
and it went against her nature to force her son to play the piano,
but she had given her word to Greg that Josh would learn something
besides baseball.
    "What's so bad
about baseball? You don't even come to the games anymore."
    Angela glanced
at Josh, frowning when she realized he was right. "Nothing is wrong
with baseball. I'm sorry I've missed your last few games. I'll make
it up to you. I just want to give you every chance I can in life,
honey."
    "That's what
Greg says, isn't it. But what about how I feel, Mom? It's my life.
Don't I have any say in it? Honestly, do we have to go over there
every Saturday afternoon? Coop's practically promised to teach me
to run the baler. Can't you go without me?"
    "I could, yes.
But that isn't the purpose, and you know it. We've been over this
many times, Josh. I want you and Greg to get to know one another.
You know he and I are going to be married in a few months. We'll be
a real family then. We'll probably go to Washington to live. It'll
be exciting for you."
    Josh
frowned.
    "You promised
you'd make an effort, Josh. And how can you if you don't go?
Besides, you might discover that you and Greg have a few things in
common, too. Have you seen his magnificent train set? It's huge. He
built it on a big billiard table that was too scarred to play on.
Besides, you can always play tennis if you get bored. Give him a
chance, Josh, for my sake. He's trying," she pleaded, but, seeing
his frustration growing, she stopped.
    Josh shrugged.
"He won't let anyone touch that train, Mom. That's the way
everything is in his house. You can look but don't touch. What kind
of house is that?" He must have seen the look of disdain on his
mother's face. He nodded. "Okay. Just don't expect me to play
tennis. That game is for sissies."
    She couldn't
stop the laugh. "All right, that's fair enough." She indulged her
son momentarily, only managing to embarrass him further. "You
really like Coop don't you?"
    Josh eyed her a
moment, as though studying the question with mild curiosity. "Sure,
he's a regular guy. Who wouldn't? I mean he knows so much about
stuff. Did you know he could sew?"
    "Sew?" She
shook her head. "No, I didn't."
    "He was in the
Air Force. That's where he learned how."
    "And you think
learning the piano is bad?"
    "Yeah, but he
says people have to learn to do a lot of things too. Besides, I
like him 'cause we spend a lot of time together. He teaches me
stuff. Don't you like him?"
    She hesitated,
and then nodded. "Well, yes, of course I like him."
    "And can he
ever play ball."
    "Oh and when
does he have time to play ball?"
    "Late in the
afternoons, sometimes, when we're through with chores. We go out in
the yard and have a fast game of pitch, like you and I used to do.
He makes sure I get my lessons first and wash my hands before I
eat, too. Boy, you ought to see his backhanded loop. He's teaching
me how. Wait until Tim and Pete get a load of it. Did you see the
way he patched Partner the other day?"
    "Patched
Partner?" she cried. "Partner was hurt?"
    She hadn't
noticed! Dear God, how could she not notice something like that?
She had noticed he was lying down a lot lately, but had no idea
why. Even though Partner was an outside dog and he didn't hang
around the house much, she until should have noticed. Josh had been
feeding him lately, too, which surprised her since she usually had
to remind him. Until, she loved that dog. She was definitely
neglecting a few important things.
    Perhaps she was
putting in too much time at the office. After all, she wasn't
Greg's executive secretary; that was Maxine Taylor's job. She
didn't have to work overtime she reasoned. Perhaps a little quality
time at home might do some good.
    Josh rolled his
eyes. "Yeah. He got caught in the