Better Than Perfect. Kristina Mathews

still young enough that they don’t think they know everything,” Javier added with a slight smile. “About baseball, at least.”

      “So these kids should be coachable.” When he’d been that age, he’d soaked up every tip and tidbit of information about the game. He’d been eager to learn and apply the knowledge to his rapidly growing skills.

      Could he be the kind of mentor he’d had back then? Could he pass down his knowledge of the game to the next generation? He hoped so.

      “They’re good kids. Some of them may have caught a bad break. Single parent homes, families fallen on hard times. Some of these boys might be homeless or in foster care.” Javier was starting to make Johnny a little nervous. He’d been one of those kids. He’d known hard times. Lived with a single mother who’d worked too much. Without a father or a man to look up to.

      Until his coach had stepped up.

      “I guess you’ve got your man.” Johnny hoped he could be the kind of man these kids needed. “Just give me the time and place.”

      “I knew I could count on you. The camp starts Monday. Here’s your contact at the Harrison Foundation.” The manager handed him a slick business card. Johnny’s heart seized as he read the name.

       Alice Harrison, Director

      “She’s a great gal. Professional. Knowledgeable.” Javier seemed not to notice all the air had been sucked out of the room. “You’ll love her.”

      Oh yeah. Johnny had loved her. He’d once loved her even more than he loved the game.

       Chapter 2

      Zach was off playing video games, so Alice took the opportunity to work on last minute details for this week’s minicamp. She went over the schedule again, making a slight change in the rotation. She cross-checked the participant roster with the t-shirt order, making sure they had the right sizes ordered for each of the players. Tomorrow she and Zach would sort the shirts into groups for easy distribution at the sign-in station. Everything seemed to be in place. It should be—she’d been doing this so long, the program practically ran itself. But for some reason, she had a nagging feeling that this year wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped.

      She took one last look at her notes, hoping whatever it was would work itself out by Monday, and closed the file. She took a deep breath and opened the other file she’d been working on. The one with the nearly completed application packet to the teacher credential program she planned on enrolling in for next fall. She’d managed to graduate before Zach was born, but her dream of becoming a teacher had been put on hold.

      She had the application, resume, test scores and letters of recommendation. But for some reason, she still wasn’t satisfied with her essay. She’d rewritten the darn thing so many times, it might as well be a novel. She knew exactly what the problem was.

      Fear.

      She wasn’t afraid of not being accepted. That was the easy part. She’d graduated with a near perfect grade point average. She’d taken all the preparatory courses and tests. The only reason she hadn’t gone straight from her undergraduate program to the credential program was because she’d gotten married, had a baby and moved out of state.

      At the time, it had made the most sense. Mel only wanted to take care of her and the baby. She’d done her best to be a good wife and mother. And daughter-in-law. The Harrisons lived two doors down. Most young brides would have been uncomfortable having their mother-in-law so close, but Alice had been grateful.

      When Mel’s mother had approached her about starting the Mel Harrison Jr. Memorial Foundation, Alice hadn’t hesitated. She knew nothing about running a charitable foundation, but giving something back to the community was a wonderful way to honor Mel’s memory. And help them all through the grieving process.

      She’d had no idea how successful the foundation would become. They’d started by gathering private donations to support youth programs already in place in the community. But Frannie and Mel Sr. were able to gather a lot of support from his wealthy clients and her social contacts. Soon, they had more money than programs to donate to. By then, Zach had started participating in youth sports and Alice got to see the impact positive male role models could have on a boy without a father.

      When the Goliaths had contacted her about doing a community service project, she suggested having the players interact with young athletes. They started small. A one-day thing more about signing autographs and taking pictures than actual player development. But the program evolved from there, growing into a weeklong afterschool clinic.

      Doing a summer camp wouldn’t work, since the pro athletes were in the middle of the season when the kids were out of school. So they lined up an early February camp. Right before the pros reported to spring training, and just in time to prepare the kids for their Little League tryouts.

      It was a good program. A worthy cause. But it wasn’t enough anymore.

      She read over her essay one more time. Not bad. Not perfect, but it gave a sense of who she was and why she would make a good teacher. She just had to attach the letter and hit Send.

      She moved the cursor to just a click away from her future.

      The phone rang, shaking her conviction. She saved the file and closed it without sending. She got up to find the cordless, but Zach poked his head into the kitchen.

      “Mom. Phone.” He handed it to her on his way to the refrigerator. “It’s Russ Crawford.”

      Russ was the Director of Player/Community Relations. He was the liaison between the Goliaths and her program. He lined up the players. She lined up the funding. He helped her communicate with the pros, and she helped them communicate with the kids.

      “Bad news.” Russ had been working with Alice for the last five years, and he was always a straight shooter. “Cooper won’t be available next week.”

      “What seems to be the problem?” She managed to maintain a professional composure. Even though he’d just told her she would be scrambling the next few days. At least now she knew where the nagging feeling had come from.

      “Didn’t pass a drug test.” The frustration in his voice came through clearly. He’d worked too hard to restore the team’s image in the wake of the steroid era. “But don’t worry. I have someone lined up to fill in on short notice. You’ll love him.”

      She had a feeling she already did.

      “Who do you have in mind?

      “Johnny Scottsdale.”

      “He’ll do.” She hoped her voice didn’t betray her. The idea of working with Johnny was tantalizing and terrifying at the same time.

      “I know how much this program means to you.” Russ was a good guy. He knew his job was more about how the players could benefit the community and not how the charity work could further the careers of the players. “Harrison Foundation has done a lot of good for a lot of people.”

      “That is the goal.” Alice rubbed her temples. “I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished in such a short time.”

      “Seven years.” Russ reminded her.

      “Has it been that long?” She’d been a widow for two years longer than she’d been a wife. Yet she remained close with her in-laws. They were still her family, and they would be lost without Zach helping fill the void from losing their only son.

      “You’d just started your second year when I came on board.” Yes. That was when he’d hit on her. She’d used the excuse that she didn’t have time; she was too busy getting the foundation off the ground. Her son needed her.

      He’d at least taken the hint. They’d been able to maintain a professional relationship.

      She hoped she could be as professional with Johnny.

      “Time flies.” In many ways it seemed