Current Day

“These are adorable.” Leesa, the mother of Trenna’s friend, takes the Minnie Mouse cupcakes from me and walks over to a what can only be described as a shrine for the female mouse. My pink polka-dotted cupcakes, topped with black fondant icing shaped in mouse ears, set off the scene perfectly. “Thanks so much for making these. The kids will love them.”

“Do you need help?” I glance around the park. Three child-sized tables and chairs are lined together, covered with white linens. Pink plates sit on top of the most adorable gold-glitter plate chargers in the shape of mouse ears. At least the plates are disposable and not real china. Score one for practicality. A small grouping of mothers congregates under an open tent, while the kids run around on the playground and climb on the equipment. Melanie’s content in the stroller for a minute.

“No, I have everything under control.” She places the last cupcake on the golden serving tray, and I must admit the spread looks great. A little too fancy for a party at the public park, but cute nonetheless. “Let me introduce you to the other mothers.”

I wheel Melanie over to them, where I get introduced. We’re in the middle of a park, and I swear two of the ladies are wearing Louboutin. This is why I miss Lacey. She’s down to earth and not high maintenance, unlike these women.

One of the high-heeled women, a bleach-blonde, turns and eyes me. I recognize her immediately, although it’s been ten years.

“Marissa.” My smile may be fake, but my shock sure isn’t.

She eyes me up and down and then tosses a glance toward Mel. “Do I know you?”

“We went to Penn State together. We didn’t really hang around each other.”

“No. Suppose we wouldn’t have.”

There are certain misconceptions in life. Like even the worst kind of bitch grows up to be less bitchy. But that’s a lie. They turn into adults with the same shitty attitude. I wonder what poor guy she snagged along the way.

“Mommy, Mommy.” Tristan comes running up to me. “Did you see the baseball diamond? It’s like the one Jax plays on. Can I go over there and play?”

Marissa straightens in her seat at the mention of Jax’s name. Funny, for someone who claims to not remember me, she certainly seems affected by the mention of my boyfriend.

“It’s too far away, honey.”

“Can I have Jax take me sometime? That’s where he can teach me baseball.” The pleading in his eyes is adorable but makes me a little sad. Tristan should want his father to do those things. Then again, Jax is the professional. Perhaps that’s why.

“Maybe. He’s kind of busy working, you know.”

Tristan turns to the women, his voice pitched high. “Jax is a real baseball player. He took us to his game and hit the ball really far for me. Plus, he took us to Disney World where we met the real Minnie Mouse.”

He takes off running toward the other kids after his spiel.

Marissa’s face turns cold as she eyes me. “I see you’re still his little play toy.”

“Now, see, you do remember me.” With that, I wheel Mel away and settle on a park bench twenty feet away. The tree provides enough shade, so we’ll be okay sitting here. Leesa comes bustling over.

“I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want to invite her, but her daughter is Luna’s best friend. She’s sort of bitchy.”

“Marissa was that way back at Penn State. She doesn’t bother me.”

“Believe me, none of the other mothers like her. They…tolerate her.”

“It’s fine really. I’m going to play with Melanie on the swings.”

“Okay. Please help yourself to anything off the snack table.”

After I play with Melanie for a while, the party finally winds down. I’m feeding Mel a snack at the bench when a collective gasp cuts through the air. The clucking from the hens increases. They’re looking down at someone’s phone and then glancing over at me. I’m not sure I even want to know what that’s about. Marissa looks directly at me and smirks. Something is definitely wrong.

Leesa grabs the cell phone and walks over to me with a pained expression. One that mimics a person who’s about to say they ran over my puppy.

“You may want to see this.”

When she hands me the phone, I glance at the screen and want to vomit. Taken as a selfie, the picture shows a naked woman leaning over a rock-hard torso. The curtain of blonde curls hides half his face, but there’s no denying it’s Jax. That angled jaw covered with dark stubble and toned muscle defining every ridge of his abs are features I’ve been ogling for the past few months. They’re not easily forgotten. The title on Diva’s Disses blog reads “Player Jax Carrigan, Secret Daddy?”

“This can’t be right. These have to be old pictures.” I read the beginning of the article. The woman claims to have had wild sex with the famous shortstop, and she’s supposedly six weeks pregnant. Which, surprise, surprise, coincides with spring training. A few more scrolls down the article and another picture appears. One where he’s sound asleep, and she’s snuggled beside him. That isn’t the part that gets to me. In the right lower corner, just beyond her big platinum curls, is a drawing taped to the wall. My heart stops. Okay, not literally, but I swear I can hardly breathe. As I enlarge the screen, my entire world crashes around me. Because there on the web for everyone to see are two adult figures standing next to three smaller ones. The smaller ones are wearing Mouseketeer hats.