He watched for maybe ten seconds. « I see, but I don’t understand what they are doing. »
I looked at him. « Likewise, I hope they are okay. »
The woman never once watched the game directly.
She would glance up at the field for a second, then immediately bend close and whisper to the boy while tracking quick patterns on his palm.
I looked around and realized that I wasn’t the only one who had noticed them.
A man two seats over from them had been drinking since we got there.
You could tell by the way he shouted half a beat too late at every play and clapped too hard and too long after anything exciting happened.
He was big, broad through the shoulders, red around the face, and getting more irritated by the minute.
At first, he was just muttering.
« Why even come if you’re not gonna watch? »
