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“Great job, guys. I mean it,” Emily said. “Same time and place tomorrow. I’m going to let you go early, but if you have to wait for a ride, obviously stay right here. Juniper and MacKenzie, I’m going to ask you to stay a while longer.”
She waited for the rest of the team to saunter off; then she turned her attention to her only real pitcher. “OK, Juniper. I don’t want to ask MacKenzie to catch for you until she gets her gear on—”
“You know she’s like really small for a catcher, right?”
Emily thought she knew then what a mother bear feels like just before she rips a predator’s head off. “Juniper, you know absolutely nothing about this athlete. And the day will come, if you pitch for us, when you will be thanking me that she’s the catcher. Also, don’t interrupt me when I’m talking. Now, as I was saying, I would like to see your warmup routine, so let’s go through it with MacKenzie. But don’t throw full speed at her. Understand?”
Juniper’s lips were tight, and her cheeks were red, but she nodded.
“OK then. Let’s warm you up.”
Juniper stood only three feet away from MacKenzie and flicked the ball at her—hard. It didn’t appear that MacKenzie knew it was coming or that it was going to come at her that fast. She caught it, clumsily, and tossed it back. Emily watched MacKenzie’s face, and she didn’t look annoyed—just incredibly focused—so Emily stayed out of it. She walked away and leaned back on the bleachers, hoping against hope that if she gave them some space, they might bond—a little. Emily saw that Jake Jasper had appeared, and now stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, watching his daughter. Emily looked at the clock, but they still had fifteen minutes.
Juniper and MacKenzie fell into an efficient rhythm. Snap, slap, return. Snap, slap, return. Clockwork. Emily couldn’t believe how well MacKenzie was catching the ball. Though Juniper wasn’t throwing the ball at full speed yet, it was still traveling at a pretty swift clip.
Juniper stepped back, looked at Emily and said, “This is usually where I start to throw hard.”
“OK, thank you, Juniper,” Emily said, walking toward them. “The second we get the equipment, I’ll let you throw full speed.”
“Can my dad just catch for me?”
Emily didn’t know how to respond.
“I can do it, Miss M,” MacKenzie insisted, as Jake started across the gym.
“Please?” Juniper said, “I want to show you.”
Emily looked at Jake.
“I’m happy to,” Jake said, and he did look happy. Thrilled even. “Can I borrow your glove?” he asked MacKenzie.
She took it off and gave it to him, but she looked absolutely disgusted about it. “I can catch,” MacKenzie said, “but Miss M won’t let me because we don’t have equipment yet.”
“Your coach is absolutely right,” Jake said. “Juniper throws hard, and you don’t want to get hurt the first day.”
“I can catch the ball,” MacKenzie insisted, folding her arms across her chest.
Jake gave her a big smile, and then as he walked away, said, “I’m sure you can, kiddo, but she doesn’t always throw strikes, and if that ball bounces, there’s no telling where it’s going to come up.” He squatted down and looked at his daughter. “OK, let ’er rip, kid.”
MacKenzie and Emily stepped back to watch.
Juniper squared up, shook out her arms, went through a simple windup and then she let her rip.
“Holy cannoli,” MacKenzie said under her breath.
Emily’s jaw dropped. She had known Juniper would have speed, but she had no idea she would throw like that.
Jake caught the fastball strike and threw it back to his daughter without coming out of his squat. She wound up and did it again. Emily was no expert on windmilling, but her form looked textbook, and the ball—well, the pitch was a thing of beauty. Straight down the middle, no rising or dropping, and fast. No one in this league is going to be able to hit that, she thought.
For the first time, Emily felt a niggling sense of competitiveness. Maybe we could win a game this year. Maybe we could win more than one.
