“Jordan, we’ll talk later,” Heather called after him, then turned to Chris with an exasperated sigh. “Sheesh! Is he really okay?”

“Yes, I’m sure of it.”

“It was nice of you to take him home.”

“Not a problem.”

“Would you like a cup of coffee? Or is it too late for you?”

“A glass of water would be great.” Chris realized that he could get something accomplished here, if he stayed awhile. Plus she really was cute.

“I have some cookies, if you’re a cookie guy.” Heather led him to a small dining area that was part of the kitchen, then gestured him into a seat at the table.

“Of course I’m a cookie guy. Who isn’t?” Chris sat down, taking in the kitchen and the dining room. It was modest, and a weird reddish glow came from the curtains, from the Friendly’s sign next door.

“It’s Chips Ahoy. Not gourmet or anything.” Heather reached into a cabinet above the counter, and Chris could tell from her residual frown that her mind was on what had happened to Jordan.

“There’s no such thing as gourmet chocolate chips.”

“Yes, there is.” Heather opened the bag of cookies, shaking a few onto a plate she took from the dish rack. “They cost twelve bucks a pound at Whole Foods.”

“Not worth it.”

“I agree. You really want water? I have milk.” Heather brought the plate of cookies over to the table and set it down. “Milk and cookies is better than water and cookies.”

“Water and cookies is fine. I just won’t dunk.”

“Ha!” Heather brightened, heading back to the kitchen. “Everybody in my family dunked, we’re big dunkers. Toast got dunked in coffee. Doughnuts, too.”

“I like to dunk toast in coffee,” Chris said, realizing it was the first completely true sentence he’d said since he’d come to Central Valley.

“Me too.” Heather turned on the tap and poured water into a glass, then went to the freezer and popped a few cubes into the water. “We dunk Italian bread in gravy and—”

“Gravy?”

“Gravy is tomato sauce, that’s what we always called it. My mother was Italian, from Brooklyn. It’s my ex who was from here.”

“Oh.” Chris caught the reference to her ex, so now he could officially know what he already knew.

“My mother even dunked her bread in salad dressing. Vinegar and oil.”

“That would be extreme dunking.”

“They were dunking professionals.” Heather smiled.

“I’m a dunking champion.” Chris found himself smiling back.

Heather laughed as she brought the glass of water over and set it down, then took the seat opposite him. The table was small, and the only fixture was an overhead light, which was unusually cozy—at least it was unusual to Chris, because coziness wasn’t a feeling he’d had often. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt cozy.

Chris got back on track. “Obviously, I think Raz is having a hard time being replaced as starting pitcher. You might want to discourage the friendship for the time being.”

“Tell me about it, I’ve been trying. I thought they’d sort it out, but maybe not. This is ridiculous.”

“It’s not fair to Jordan.”

“No, it’s not!” Heather raised her voice. “I feel bad for Raz and I don’t mean to be mean. Please don’t think I’m a gossip, but I don’t know if you heard, his older brother Ryan was arrested last night.”

“Yes, I did hear that.” Chris noted she didn’t say it in a gossipy way, but her tone was sympathetic.

“Okay, so they’re having trouble in the family. I saw Susan at the game, but I didn’t get to talk to her. I feel terrible that Raz’s father died, too. But still, none of that is Jordan’s fault. Jordan earned the position, all by himself. Nobody helped him. Everything he does, it’s on his shoulders. He was never given any advantages.”

Chris heard the emotion behind her words and sensed she wasn’t talking about Jordan anymore. He broke off a piece of cookie and popped it in his mouth.

“I probably should have mentioned this, but his father and I broke up when he was born. He’s grown up without a father and he’s ‘risen above his raisin’ as Dr. Phil says.”

“I don’t think you need to worry. As you said, Raz and Jordan will sort themselves out, and this too shall pass.”

“Right, I know.” Heather pressed a stray strand of hair from her eyes, with a new sigh. “It’s been a long day, I guess. A long, weird day.”

“The day you quit your job.”

“Right, the day I quit my job.” Heather rolled her eyes, with a self-conscious giggle. “It’s settling in.”

“What is?”

“Reality. I don’t have a backup plan.”

“I always have a backup plan,” Chris said, another thing that was true.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Heather lifted an eyebrow, and Chris realized he’d said the wrong thing, thrown off-balance by her.

“No, what I was about to say is that you don’t need a backup plan. Just go to the next step.”

“What’s that?”

“Find a new job.”

“Ha!” Heather laughed, but it had a hollow sound. “That’s not as easy as it sounds. I was just online at monster and Craig’s List. I applied to fifteen jobs already, but there’s not a lot of places looking.”

“Nothing’s as easy as it sounds. You can’t let that stop you.”

“Now you’re talking like a coach.”

“Well, I am a coach,” Chris said, without thinking.

“Okay, then, coach me. I’m open-minded.” Heather leaned back, crossing her arms, and Chris tried to think of something a real coach would say.

“Be positive.”

“Good start.”

“I’m sure a lot of businesses would love to have someone like you.”

“What makes you say that? You don’t even know me.” Heather looked at him like he was crazy, the same way she had looked at Jordan, which was very cute. Totally cute.

“I do, in a way,” Chris answered, and he wasn’t even talking about his research on her. “Through Jordan.”