Page 11 of Driven to Love

“I brought chairs, Mom.” It made no sense, but he knew they would be bringing his parents’ chairs as well.

“Oh, you know he likes that lounger chair your sister got him for Father’s Day last year.”

“I sure do. It feels like I’m in my recliner. What better way to watch the game.” Paul Steele gestured to the back door. “The stuff is outside. Let’s get loaded and head out. That way we can get good seats.”

No sense in arguing.

His mom set a big, floppy hat on her perfectly styled hair and grabbed a big bag.

Nash followed his parents to the garage. Whoa! He pulled up short at the pile of stuff on the floor. “All this?”

“Well, sure. Your mother needs the big umbrella, and we want the comfortable chairs.” His dad grabbed a baseball cap and locked the house door.

“I packed a cooler with those sports drinks Davey likes and some snacks.” She smiled like it was totally normal to pack a week’s worth of food for one baseball game. Two if they won.

Nash shook his head and carried the first load to the truck. He dropped the tailgate and sighed. “Glad to see we’ll have ample shade.”

Always be prepared. Right. Overkill came to mind. Nash shoved the pop-up shade to the side, making room for his mom’s giant umbrella. He stepped back and mentally calculated how he would cram all the stuff in the pile into his six-foot truck bed. If there was one thing he’d learned in the army, it was how to pack for a month in one duffel. Times like this, he missed those days.

Four trips to the garage later, and they were finally ready to go. Thank God he had a four-door truck or he’d have to strap his parents to the roof. He chuckled at the visual of his father hood-surfing across town.

At the ball fields, Nash unloaded, hauled all the stuff to the field, and set up the sunshade. Once he got his parents settled in, he pulled a drink from the cooler. He tipped back the can and took a healthy gulp. The cool beverage slid down his throat. “Ah.” He melted back into the chair. Time to enjoy the game.

The players were all huddled by their bench. Nash caught Davey’s attention and waved. His son said something to his coach before he took off down the sideline straight toward them at lightning speed.

“Hey, guys. I’m catcher today.” Catcher was Davey’s favorite position to play. He leaned down and hugged his grandparents before fist-bumping his dad.

“You got this.” Nash tapped the brim of his son’s cap. The coach had been moving the players around this season to find their sweet spot in preparation for the high school team in a couple of years.

“That’s wonderful, dear. Do you have sunscreen on?” Nash’s mom held out a can of 50 SPF.

Nash caught Davey’s eye roll, but his son let her spray more on his arms and neck. “Thanks, Grandma.”

“Go get ‘em, slugger.” Paul high-fived his grandson.

Nash nodded and watched as his son ran off to join the rest of his team in warm-ups.

The first player was up to bat, and Nash settled in for a good game.

But over the next two hours, Nash questioned his life choices, especially the one to bring his parents to Davey’s game.

“Hey, Ump! Do you need new glasses? That was a fair ball!” Nash’s dad yelled for the tenth time in the last hour.

Nash sank a little lower into his chair. His father yelled a lot. He was very vocal… about everything. An out at plate. A ball dropped. It didn’t matter. Paul Steele made his thoughts heard.

His mom, on the other hand, cheered and clapped, but didn’t really follow the game.

“Those kids should get more water breaks. They could get sunstroke in this heat.”

“It’s baseball. They can hydrate when they are on the bench.” Paul huffed. “But those umpires could be better. They missed the tag out on third.”

“They’re volunteers, Dad.” The high school kid was probably being paid minimum wage to ump this game.

At the bottom of the seventh, Georgia got up. “I’m going to see if the players on the bench need anything.”

Ever the hostess. Nash loved her. He just hoped her generosity didn’t embarrass Davey.

Nash scanned the crowd. Beth sat in the small bleachers behind the dugout. She made eye contact and waved. He waved back. Her husband waved too. Nash gave him a head tilt.