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I shook my head. “No, but he said I had it.”
“Wow. I don’t even know what to say.” Her eyes were round and a little unfocused as she looked out on the field.
I took her hand. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not in any rush. We can take our time and move at our own pace.”
“What if I’m never ready?” Brooke asked, her voice trembling.
“That’s okay, too. I want you in my life, but I don’t need a piece of paper to make it official.”
“You’re too good to be true.”
“I’m willing to meet you where you are. I understand where you’re coming from, and I have faith that we’re going to have the best life together, whether we get married or not.”
I’d never been married, and I definitely wanted to be, but I understood Brooke’s hesitation.
The boys lined up on the first and third baselines, and the notes of the national anthem played over the loudspeakers. Everyone stood and removed their hats.
When we sat, the game started. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Brooke any more about my discussion with her father, but I’d said what I’d needed to. I was willing to wait for her to be ready. As long as she was with me when I woke up and went to bed at night, I’d be happy. I had a feeling she’d be happier if we married, but I could wait for her to figure that out.
Hunter sat out the first inning, and I could tell from where I was sitting that he was frustrated. In the next inning, he played second.
“What’s going on? He never plays second,” Brooke asked.
“It’s different playing on an all-star team. There are different coaches.”
“I hope he gets a chance to pitch. That’s all he talked about this week,” Abby said.
“I’m sure he will,” I said. I certainly hoped he would. He was one of the better pitchers in the league.
The game was slow but entertaining. A kid slid into second in an attempt to steal a base, but the teen umpires said the kids weren’t allowed to slide headfirst for safety reasons, so he was called out. The call prompted the coaches to discuss with the umpires, and the kids were visibly upset by the ruling.
“The rules are a little different than they were during the regular season,” I said.
“It’s confusing for the kids,” Abby said.
Hunter played left field and third base and had two singles. Finally, in the last inning, he was picked to pitch.
“He’s pitching closer,” I said to no one in particular.
“That’s good, right?”
“It means the coach thinks he can limit runs, and we can hold out for a win,” I said.
“Hunter will like that,” Brooke said.
Hunter liked to contribute to the game and help his teammates. That was why sitting on the bench during the first inning was so frustrating for him.
“Want to get closer to watch him pitch?” I asked Brooke.
This field had a fence, and there were more spectators than usual, so we were pretty far away from the action.
“Sure,” Brooke agreed, standing and walking with me toward home plate. We stood behind the backstop, where we had the perfect view.
Brooke pulled out her phone and started filming.
It was nerve-wracking watching a kid pitch, and he wasn’t even mine. He warmed up with five perfect fastballs.
“Take it easy, Hunter,” the coach called, standing from his crouched position as a catcher. He moved out of the way of the team’s catcher and headed toward the dugout.
