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“Compromise,” Levi corrected.
Ulric nodded. “Yeah! There is a team I can join. And I want to learn. I just want to play by myself! Then, if I win or lose, it’s my fault.”
Levi looked to me, as if he were begging for help.
I shrugged, unsure what to tell him.
“Sorry, Dad.” Ulric’s shoulders dropped, and he hung his head. “I know you like baseball, and I like it, but I don’t wanna play. I mean, I’ll still play with you if you want.”
My heart felt like it was hit by a truck. Levi, heartbreakingly put his hands on his head, running them through his curls. “It’s okay. Thank you for telling me. I’ll talk to the coach. Then we can look into this tennis stuff.”
“Really? Thanks, Dad.” Ulric hugged him, and then made a run for it right past me.
“No running in the house!” I yelled after him. “And check on your sister!”
“I blame you,” Levi muttered, picking up Ulric’s written declaration. He frowned at it, as if it were a dead animal. “I knew you’d poison him against the game.”
“Hey!” I pointed Willow’s sippy cup top at him. “You heard him … he doesn’t want to carry the team anymore. He was so crushed on Saturday. He cried in the car while the other kids were drinking juice boxes in the shade.”
“If the other kids’ parents would have taught their kids how to catch a damn ball. Or at least run down everything—”
“Levi, they are seven. Ulric is the weird one,” I reminded him, laughing.
“Hey!” He pointed back at me. “Ulric, isn’t weird; he’s dedicated to—”
“Winning. He loves winning,” I reminded him, walking farther into the study.
“So? He’s not a jerk about it.”
I made a face. Ulric said the same thing when I told him he loved to win too much. ‘I’m not being mean to them about it, Mommy.’ And he’s exactly right. He can’t play with the older kids because he isn’t big enough. He doesn’t feel like everyone is working hard like him. And when he loses, he can’t blame himself because he thinks he did everything he could, and everyone else let him down. He’s right. So instead of yelling at everyone, and being a little monster, our son wants to play a sport where he can only blame himself if he loses. This is good.”
He still pouted, dropping the paper on his desk and leaning back against it. “I know nothing about tennis.”
“You can learn together.”
“Or I can find him an All-Star seven-year-old team.” He thought about it, and I smacked his shoulder.
“Let him at least play tennis. You never know … he could end up hating it and missing baseball.”
He sighed, and reached out, putting his hands on my hips. “Promise me he’ll hate it.”
“You are ridiculous!” I wiggled away from him and back toward the door. “Now, come on and help me. Willow’s friends will be here soon.”
“How is she two already?” he muttered to himself as we walked to the living room. Willow sat on the floor, her curly hair in two big pigtails as Ulric gave her all his baseball stuff.
“Ulric, what are you doing?” Levi asked.
“I’m giving Willow her birthday gifts,” he replied happily, rubbing salt deep into Levi’s open, bleeding wounds.
“It looks like you’re trying to get rid of your old stuff by giving it to your sister.” I crossed my arms and eyed him up.
“No, she likes this stuff.” He grinned, still trying to weasel his way out of it. Before I could get a word in, Willow threw the ball right at my head. I ducked, even though Levi caught the ball. She started to giggle, and then looked for something else to throw.
“Willow!” I pointed at her as she picked up the mitt and threw it. For how heavy it was for her, she threw it pretty far.
“Look whose got Daddy’s arm.” Levi grinned, rushing to her, and scooped her off the ground, causing her to laugh harder. When she laughed, her smile took up her whole face, and her eyes squinted together hiding her beautiful hazel eyes.
“Don’t cheer her on,” I warned him, walking up to them. “No throwing.”
