Chapter 15 Hunter #2
“Yay, Tyler. Yay, Tyler.” Then she got up from her coloring project to do celebratory cartwheels down the sideline.
“Thank goodness she’s wearing pants,” Esme said. “One time she had a dress on and everyone and their mother saw her panties.”
Leo opened his eyes and let out a squawk. Gillian patted his back and he went back to sleep. “I’ve got to get him on a better schedule,” Gillian said. “He loves to sleep during the day and not so much at night.”
I noticed Esme and Grady locking eyes for a second or two. I had a feeling baby Leo might get a friend soon.
Tyler stood at second base, brushing dirt off his uniform. He gave me a quick wave, his young face showing exactly what he was thinking. It mattered to him that I was there. I wasn’t sure anything had ever made me as proud.
The next batter struck out, and the inning ended with Tyler stranded on base. He jogged back to the dugout, not visibly disappointed. Alex said something to him as he passed, and Tyler nodded.
Peter was pitching well. His curveball was dropping beautifully, and the opposing batters kept swinging over it.
“This is fun,” I said to Seraphina.
She looked up at me. “I’m glad you think so because there’s like a million games in the spring.”
“Maybe you could write a song about baseball,” Robbie said to me, looking up from his book. “One with a story about the underdogs defeating the best team in the league through determination and heart.”
“I think that’s a movie,” Grady said.
“Seraphina told me there are only seven stories,” Robbie said, shrugging. “It’s impossible to come up with anything completely fresh.”
Seven stories? I put that aside to think about later and grabbed a piece of cheese.
I could get used to afternoons like this.
“It’s really nice you’re here,” Lila said in her soft voice. “Mia told me Tyler was telling everyone that you were coming to his game.”
My eyes stung. “That’s super sweet.”
“He’s a sweet kid,” Lila said. “And very responsible.”
“He has an old soul,” Gillian said. “When he was a little boy, he was always so serious.”
“We don’t worry to leave the kids alone as long as Tyler’s with them,” Delphine said.
“You needn’t worry about any of us,” Robbie said. “We’re like penguins.”
“Penguins? What do you mean?” I asked.
Robbie met my gaze. “Penguins operate as a collective. They huddle. When it’s cold or something’s wrong, they don’t spread out. They move closer. That’s what our mothers do and that’s what we do. Without the tuxedos, obviously.”
Darned if my eyes didn’t sting again. And I just might write a song about penguins.
Madison, done with her cartwheels, plopped herself onto Grady’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Grady, what’s an old soul?”
“Someone who has more wisdom than you’d expect, given his or her real age,” Grady said.
“I want to be an old soul.” Madison sighed, rather mournfully.
“You are, Sweet Pea,” Grady said, kissing the top of her head.
“I am?”
“Without a doubt,” Grady said. “And a good egg.”
Madison giggled. “I’m not an egg. And none of us are wearing tuxedos, Robbie. So we can’t be penguins.”
“Madison, it’s a metaphor,” Robbie said.
“Why is everyone always talking about stuff I don’t understand?” Madison asked.
Margot came to sit at her father’s feet. “It’s because we’re the youngest. But someday we’ll know the answers to everything and never have to ask questions.”
Delphine chuckled. “That day will never come, sweetheart. There’s always more to learn. Even when you’re a grown-up.”
“It’s true. Even adults make a lot of mistakes,” Gillian said. “But it’s all right to make mistakes, as long as we learn from them.”
“I don’t like to make mistakes,” Robbie said.
“Me either,” Vance said, exchanging a look with Robbie. “But sometimes it just happens.”
The fifth inning started. That’s when I spotted two guys, maybe fifty yards down the fence line.
One had a long lens, the other a smaller camera with a telephoto.
They weren’t watching the game. They were watching us.
I knew the look. I’d seen the casual stance that wasn’t casual, and the way they pretended to be interested in something else while the lens stayed pointed in another direction.
One was aimed at Seraphina and me in our lawn chairs.
The other was aimed at the field. Actually, at the dugout.
Where Tyler stood waiting to run out to the field.
I didn’t move. I didn’t want to alert the rest of our group yet. I tracked their sight lines instead.
“Hunter?” Seraphina’s voice came from far away. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t look,” I said quietly. “Two photographers. Down the left field line.”
She stiffened beside me.
“They’re aimed at us,” I said. “And Tyler.”
“They can’t—” Her voice cracked. “I told Brooke—”
“I doubt these are Hawthorne’s people,” I said. “My bet is freelancers. Hoping to sell to whoever’s buying.”
Delphine had picked up on the tension. “What’s happening?”
“Paparazzi,” I said. “Two of them.”
The word rippled through the group. Lila’s face went hard. She knew better than any of them what this felt like. Vance was already on his feet, but I held up a hand.
“Stay here. Keep it normal,” I said. “Don’t let Tyler see anything’s wrong. I’m going to talk to them.”
“I’ll come with you,” Grady said.
I shook my head. “No, it’s better if it’s just me.”
Seraphina grabbed my hand. “Hunter—”
“I’ve got this,” I said.
I walked toward them slowly and without aggression. Just a guy stretching his legs, wandering the perimeter of the field. I kept my hands loose at my sides, even though they ached to make contact with a paparazzi’s jaw or two.
The one with the long lens saw me coming. He lowered the camera slightly, clearly trying to decide if I was a threat. I had an image of a male goose on high alert, ready to attack.
I stopped about five feet away. Close enough to talk. Not close enough to spook them into running.
“Afternoon,” I said.
The taller one—shaved head, sunburn on his nose spoke first. “Hey, man. Great game, huh?”
“It is.” I looked at the camera in his hands. “Getting some good shots?”
“Just some local color. You know how it is.”
“I do know.” I kept my voice even. “I also know you’ve been shooting the dugout for the last ten minutes. Which means you’ve got photos of minors without parental consent.”
The shorter one shifted his weight. He knew where this was going.
“California law’s pretty clear on that.” I’d looked it up just before we left for the game. “SB 606. You want to explain to the cops why you’re photographing kids at a high school baseball game?”
“We’re on public property,” the tall one said. “First Amendment.”
“That doesn’t cover harassment and stalking of minors. Which is what this is.” I took a step closer. “You’ve got photos of my girlfriend and me. Fine. Keep them. Sell them. I don’t care. But you’ve also got photos of her son. And those get deleted. Now.”
“Come on, man—”
“Now.”
The shorter one was already reaching for his camera. Smart. He’d done this before and knew when to cut his losses.
“Jimmy,” he muttered to his partner. “Just do it.”
Jimmy hesitated. I held his gaze.
“You really want to make this a thing?” I asked. “Because I’ve got a whole group of people back there who saw exactly where your lenses were pointed. You want to test me?”
Apparently, he didn’t want to test me.
“We don’t need trouble,” Jimmy said, in a way that told me he’d often seen trouble. Or caused it anyway.
They both scrolled through their photos, deleting everything with Tyler in it. The tall one tried to keep a few of me and Seraphina, and I let him. When they were done, I stepped back.
“Game’s over for you two. Find somewhere else to be.”
They packed up without another word. I watched them walk to a sedan parked on the street and drive away.
My hands were shaking. I stood there for a moment, letting the adrenaline drain. Tyler may be an old soul, but he was also a kid. One who should be off-limits to these scums.
When I got back to the chairs, Seraphina was on her feet.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“They’re gone. I made them delete everything with Tyler.”
“How?”
“Asked nicely.” I tried to smile. “With some legal threats mixed in.”
“Well done,” Vance said, clapping my shoulder. “Those guys are like fleas, though. You kill two and ten more appear.”
“You would know,” Delphine said.
“Thankfully, we haven’t had any trouble lately,” Lila said. “I’m old news now.”
We all sat back down. Seraphina’s hand found mine. Her fingers were trembling.
“Do you think Tyler noticed Hunter talking to them?” Seraphina asked the group.
“He didn’t see anything,” Esme said. “Tyler was in the dugout the whole time.”
I looked toward the field. Tyler was putting on his batting helmet, getting ready for his next at-bat, seemingly unaware of the drama playing outside of the game.
Good.
We watched the rest of the game like nothing had happened. Tyler got another hit in the seventh. Peter pitched a complete game. They won by three. Alex gathered the team for a post-game huddle while we packed up the chairs and coolers.
Afterward, Tyler jogged over, sweaty and grinning. “Thanks for coming,” he said to me.
“Wouldn’t have missed it. You did well today.”
“No huge mistakes, so that’s good,” Tyler said. “But I could have played better.”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Madison said solemnly. “Even grown-ups.”
Laugher rippled through our little group.
“Why is everyone laughing at me?” Madison asked Grady, then looked at her mom.
“We’re not laughing at you,” Esme said quickly. “You just tickle us.”
Madison shook her head, like we were all slightly unhinged.
Which maybe we were. But we were unhinged penguins. All of us in it together.