Sure, put the fat girl in the catcher’s mask and make her squat,” Claire groused. “You don’t make the fat girl the catcher, you make the meanest bitch the catcher,” Bea shot back, and that made Claire grin. They were all grinning now, even the elegant Mrs. Sutherland, who had borrowed a pair of shorts from Grace to play in and handled her fielder’s glove like it was a Buckingham Palace teacup. “I do not understand this game,” she was saying in her soft British accent to Grace. “I just do not understand it at all, even as long as I’ve lived here.” “Oh, honey, I don’t understand this game,
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