Down Home and Deadly

arm. “Honey, just because we have seats behind home plate doesn’t mean you’re the ump.”
    “Maybe I should be,” he grumbled, but his grin gave him away. He leaned forward and looked across his wife at me. “What do you think, Jenna? Was I right or wrong?”
    Alex cleared his throat. “Now, Dad. Jenna—”
    While Alex was trying to protect me, St. Louis ’s pitcher wound up for another pitch and released it. The umpire called strike three , a nd the inning was over.
    I laughed and interrupted. “Coach, I think you were absolutely right. He’s out of there.”
    “You always were a wise one,” he said.
    Yeah, like when I was wise enough to know my swimming career was all washed up. I pushed the negative thought away and scolded myself like Carly and I always did when the kids got a little self-centered . It’s not all about you, I reminded myself.
    Demaree slipped her hand in min e and gave it a small squeeze. She leaned over and spoke softly in my ear. “Forgive our enthusiasm, Jenna. We’re so happy that you and Alex are going to be married. I’m afraid we’re a little giddy.”
    “Are you sure?” I blurted out.
    Puzzlement crossed her face. “Of course I’m sure. Why would you ask that?”
    I shrugged. “No reason, I guess. I know I let Coach down when I lost the Olympics.”
    Her pretty face grew stern. “Let him down?” she said, no longer lowering her voice. She flashed a look at her husband. “Mike, Jenna thinks she let you down by losing in the Olympics.”
    His eyes widened with surprise , and either he missed his calling as an actor, or his shock was genuine. “How did you let me down? You were the best swimmer I ever coached. You did everything I asked of you, even when you thought you couldn’t. You were a joy to coach, Jenna.”
    I resisted the urge to go into it f u rther. Now was neither the time nor the place as the first Cardinal batter approached the batter’s box. “Never mind,” I said, smiling. “Thank you.”
    By the time the Cards won a rowdy victory, I’d almost managed to stop thinking of Alex’s parents as my ex-coach and his wife. If they could get over my early failure and the impact it no doubt had on their lives, surely I could , too. I was a grown woman, after all.
    But when we got to his parents’ house after the game, all my earlier nervousness returned with a vengeance. I climbed down from the truck. “Whoa, it’s beautiful,” I said to Alex, as we approached the white two - story house with its bright green roof. “I especially love the front porch and the swing.” His folks came out just as I finished speaking. They’d left the ball game only a few minutes before us, but when Alex called them ten minutes ago to tell them we were stopped for road construction, they were already home. One of the joys of being a local and knowing all the shortcuts.
    They accepted my compliments and ushered us into the house. We bypassed the formal living room and went straight to the family room, a comfortable area with overstuffed chairs and a fireplace.
    And walls and shelves covered with pictures. I noticed one of Alex as I remembered him from childhood. He was so cute, even then. I followed his pictorial progress from infancy to adulthood. All those moments I’d missed. There he was at bat in a baseball game ; here he was shooting a long shot on the basketball court. There were pictures of him swimming, camping, graduating college. Holding up his shingle. There were several of him in groups, both formal and informal. None with him and a girl alone. I wondered if his parents wished he’d married someone from his college days i nstead of the girl who choked under pressure.
    “Hey, w ater girl,” Alex said from near my shoulder. “Your wall’s over here.”
    I glanced at him in puzzlement as he turned me to face the wall across the room. Photos of Coach Mike and his pupils. I walked across for a closer look. To my surprise, I was in more than half the photos.
    “My star student,” Coach said from behind us.
    I spun around. “Up to a point.”
    He chuckled. “Up to the point that S uper G irl finally showed she was human by getting sick at the worst possible time? But even then you were the best I ever coached.”
    I ignored the last part of his comment as politeness and focused on the first part. “You didn’t think my illness was just nerves? A way to wimp out?” Until I said it aloud, I hadn’t realized that deep down that was what I’d