Harm marinates on what Mac has just said.

"Are you pulling my leg?"

"No. It's the truth. I can take you inside, and show you the trophy wall. He has an entire wall in his room of all his awards, and trophies. I guess some of them are for soccer too."

"You must really have done something right."

"I really cannot take all of the credit. There was a lot of speech therapy, and occupational therapy early on. We all just kept encouraging him, and he bought what we were selling."

"What about his dad, is he in the picture?"

"He doesn't even know that he exists. I spent a lot of time contemplating telling him, but I never knew how he would react to Ben. It's not as if he was physically, or emotionally available at the time anyway."

"You never told him?"

"No. It's not as if I'm trying to obscure his existence. Ben's pretty active on social media."

"Is that safe?"

"Webb installed government level protection, and moderation on all his profiles, and devices."

Harm falls silent as he looks into her eyes. His mind races. Before he can string together an intelligible thought Ben pops onto the patio.

"Mom?"

Sarah turns towards him, "Yes?"

"I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Nope. What's up?"

"The league championship is next week, and you did promise to practice with me today," Ben reminds her.

She nods, "Why don't you ask our guest if he would like to join us?"

"Would you like to play? Do you know anything about being goalie?"

"I think I could give it a try."

Mac shakes her head, and glowers in her son's direction.

"You're worried that I'll be too tough to beat?" Harm queries.

Sarah shakes her head, "No. That is not my concern."

"You think I'm going to go easy on him?"

Ben interrupts, "She's afraid that I'll hurt you because you're an old man."

Mac barely stifles a chortle.

"You think I'm an old man?" He quizzes.

Fifteen minutes, and several face plants later Harmon Rabb throws up his hands in defeat. His face is beet red, and sweat drips from his forehead. The dirt caked to his sideburns does little to deter the sweat. He breathes heavily, obviously overestimating how in shape he is. Ben kicks the ball into the goal over Rabb's motionless body as he lies in front of the goal on the ground. Ben extends a hand.

"So, old man, can I offer you that lemonade now?"

"I am willing to accept your refreshment as long as you know I will be returning at some point for a rematch."

"I don't blame you. It's sportsmanlike behavior to be willing to admit when you need to put in more practice."

Ben walks off the field as Mac offers a hand to Harm. He slowly rises from the safety, and security of the grass. He shakes his head.

"Your son is ruthless."

"It started when he was three," she recalls as they move back to the comfort of her patio furniture.

"Did you let him win?"

She shakes her head, "No. I don't believe in letting kids win. I beat him at a game of Ants in the Pants, and he proceeded to get upset, and toss the game across the room."

"So he has your temper?"

"I like to think that his social-emotional skills are more developmentally appropriate than mine have been in the past. Anyway, I explained to him that I wouldn't let him win. Ben can be stubborn, and a bit obsessive, so after our discussion he practiced every single day. Every single day we would have a rematch until he was able to beat me."

"Did you let him win?"

She shakes her head, "That would only teach him that I believe he wasn't capable. I have never once believed that about him, and I wouldn't for a second want him to believe it either."

Ben materializes in the doorway. He graciously brings out lemonade, and a stack of plastic cups, and places it on the nearby table.

"Thank you," Mac smiles up at him.

"Rusty really wants to take a nap, so I'll have to excuse myself," Ben winks as he slinks back inside.

Harm shakes his head, "Why does he have to go inside for that?"

"Rusty only sleeps at the foot of Ben's bed."

"Does Ben have to be present for that? I thought he was enjoying taunting me."

"Rusty naps at the same time every day. He will only nap while Ben is there because he has to sleep with his head in his lap."

"Doesn't Rusty outweigh Ben?"

"Yep. I suspect Ben was also trying to be courteous, and allow us time to talk about what he refers to as boring adult stuff."

"What does that entail?"

"Heartworm medication, bills, dentist appointments, broccoli. Really anything not pertaining to his interests."

"So you're saying he is a typical kid?"

She nods, "That is what the pediatrician keeps insisting. Aside from some minor health issues he's a pretty healthy kid."

"What kind of health issues?"

"He tends to be more prone to upper respiratory infections, things like that. Nothing too alarming."

He leans back in his seat, and sips his lemonade. He watches her. As he inhales he realizes she is literally sitting on the edge of her seat in an uncharacteristically formal posture.

"Am I making you anxious?" He probes.

"No," she answers too quickly.

"I am intruding on your afternoon. I shouldn't have dropped by unannounced. I'm sorry. I should get going."

She shakes her head, "Don't rush off."

"I can't quite get a read on you. Have I said, or done something to upset you?"

"Not today," Mac responds.

"Oh. Whatever it is, I'm sorry. I am an idiot."

She shakes her head, "I'm the one who is sorry."

"What? I'm really confused. What are you sorry about?"

"I am so sorry for stealing your time. I apologize for letting my feelings override logic, and reason."

"I'm not sure what you're referring to? I hope you're not referring to our relationship. I had plenty of accountability in its failing."

"No. I am the idiot."