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Larissa: Yes.
Larissa: You’re welcome to come.
I read her message and know that inviting me was hard for her. She’s cautious when it comes to all things Paisley.
Me: I’ll be home in an hour. I’ll send you my address. Come on over. We’ll swim and grill out before her game.
Larissa: You’re sure?
Me: Absolutely.
It will be the first time that either of them have been there. I hold my breath, waiting for her reply, wanting them in my space more than I realized.
Larissa: Okay. Let me get her ball stuff together and a change of clothes.
Me: See you soon, baby.
I’m barely on the road headed home when my phone rings. “Hey, Dad,” I answer after seeing his name come across the dash.
“East, how are you, son?”
“Good, just leaving the airport.”
“That’s why I’m calling. You had three damn good games.”
“Did Mark tell you that?” I tease. It’s a running joke in our family that Uncle Mark loves the game more than Dad. He could have gone pro but had a knee injury that kept him in the dugout.
“Very funny, smartass.” He laughs good-naturedly. “So, what’s
up? Your mom mentioned she hasn’t talked to you much lately.”
I don’t even hesitate to tell him. “I met someone.”
“Tell me more.” I can imagine him sitting back in his chair, propping his legs up on his desk.
“She’s gorgeous and sweet, and she has a little girl. She’s four.”
“Have you met her?”
“Yeah, we’ve hung out a few times. Great kid.”
“Not that you need the reminder, but as your father, that’s my job. There are three hearts at stake here, Easton.”
“I know that, Dad. Trust me, I do. I also know that my heart… it races anytime she’s near,” I confess.
“This sounds all too familiar to me,” he says with a laugh.
“When did you know?” I ask him. “When did it hit you that Mom and I were what you wanted?”
“I knew the night I met her. I hadn’t met you yet, but you’re an extension of her, and I never stood a chance not to love either one of you.”
“I’m in deep, Dad.”
“Of course you are. You’re a Monroe. That’s how we do it, all-in. When do we get to meet them? And you need to call your mother,” he chastises.
I laugh. “Soon, I hope. I’ll call Mom, I promise.”
“Good. Take care, son.”
