Joe leaned on the padded fence off the third base line. It was usually his favorite part of game night, but tonight Joe stared listlessly as the kids ran the bases, shouting exuberantly.
What was he thinking?
He wasn't trying to buck the system, he was just doing things his way. He didn't want the other owners to fail. He had simply been given the chance of a lifetime and took it.
Dummy.
He was the youngest owner in major league history, and he was afraid that fact was about to bite him in the butt.
"I'm still not happy about this."
He didn't even turn his head. He just sighed.
"Hi, Annette."
"Ms. Primrose."
She leaned against the fence next to him, staring at the same empty spot. Screams of laughter punctuated their silence.
"I'm not happy about it, but they are. And that's all that matters to you, isn't it?"
For the first time, he watched. Kids of all ages and sizes were running, skipping and even waddling. Every last one had a smile on their face.
"This is how it's supposed to be, Annette."
"Ms. Primrose. I know this is how it should be, but things are different here than they were in little league, Joe."
"They shouldn't have to be. It's still baseball, right?"
A boy in a blue Royals shirt, around 8 years old, ran through third base and jumped on the top of the fence next to them. He was grinning ear to ear.
"Hi, Mom! Come run the bases with me!"
Joe stared in shock at Ms. Primrose for a moment. She was beet red.
"Better get out there, Mom. That's an order!"
After another moment, Ms. Primrose laughed.
"That's Annette to you, Joe. And when I get back, remind me to tell you how you can fix your ownership problem."
"Oh, really? Care to give me a sneak preview?"
Annette only smiled as she hopped the fence and took off around the bases with her son, laughing the entire way.
