People around us began clapping.
Maisie squeezed my hand.
Cole continued.
“I saw what happened afterward, and I think everybody in that section knows exactly who that ball belongs to.”
Denise sank lower into her seat.
Parker looked miserable.
His mother leaned toward him.
“Just give it back.”
He stared at her.
“You took it.”
“I said give it back.”
Something about her suddenly trying to make him responsible seemed to bother him.
Parker stood and walked toward Maisie himself.
“I’m sorry,” he said, holding out the football. “I should’ve given it back immediately.”
Maisie took it carefully.
“You didn’t take it.”
Parker glanced toward his mother.
“I still should’ve said something sooner.”
Before Maisie could answer, the stadium erupted again.
Cole Brennan was still speaking.
“And young man?”
Parker froze and looked toward the field.
Cole pointed at him.
“You did the right thing giving it back.”
Parker’s face went red too, but for a very different reason.
Then Cole looked toward our section once more.
“Now I’d like the little girl and her mom to come down here for a minute, if they’re willing.”
Maisie turned to me so quickly I thought she’d hurt her neck.
“Mom.”
I was still trying to understand what I’d heard.
“Mom!”
“Yes, I heard him.”
“Are we going?”
An usher was already walking toward us.
I laughed through my tears.
“Apparently we are.”
Denise stared straight ahead while the people around us applauded Maisie.
Nobody yelled at her or called her names.
They didn’t need to.
She had spent the last several minutes insisting her son deserved the ball because he was the real football fan, only to have an entire stadium watch him return it to the eight-year-old girl she’d mocked.
For someone who cared so much about who “deserved” attention, becoming the center of it clearly wasn’t as enjoyable as she’d expected.
The usher led us through a hallway beneath the stands.
Maisie held the football so tightly I was surprised she could breathe.
“Do I say something cool when I meet him?”
