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“What? Baseball?”
He nodded.
“You just got finished. Aren’t you hungry?” I asked, assessing his sweaty brow.
His brow furrowed. “A little bit, but I want to practice batting.”
“You want to go to the batting cages?” I asked, knowing it was his favorite thing to do.
He nodded eagerly and ran back to the bench to gather his things. I made sure he had everything packed in his bag, then walked with him to the car.
“Cammie punched Connor,” Hunter said once we were in the car.
“It wasn’t the right choice to make, so her father took her home.”
Hunter nodded, not asking any follow-up questions. After parking at the local batting cages, we walked inside, paid for tokens, and fed them into the machine by the only open cage.
I punched the button for baseball, and Hunter pulled on his batting gloves. “Sixty miles per hour.”
“What?” There was no way the coaches were pitching that fast to seven-year-olds.
I pushed the button for the lowest option. “Let’s start with forty miles per hour.”
“Fine.” Hunter pulled his batting helmet on and opened the door to go inside.
I stepped back, pushing the down or up button based on how the balls were coming out of the machine. He was missing everything. I wondered if it was too fast for him when someone came up to me.
“His stance isn’t quite right, and he’s swinging late.”
I turned to him. “Ben? What are you doing here?”
He gestured at his daughter, who stood slightly behind him. “Cammie wanted to practice.” He lowered his voice and continued, “I should probably have banned her from baseball all day for what she did, but we both know it was slightly justified.”
I smiled at him like we shared a secret.
“What are you talking about?” Cammie asked, pushing between us and making Ben step back.
“Just giving pointers on Hunter’s hitting.”
Hunter came out, and I could tell from how his shoulders drooped he was frustrated. “How am I going to try out for travel baseball?”
“I didn’t even know you wanted to do that,” I said, or that Abby could handle something that was such a huge time commitment.
“It’s an easy fix.” Ben held his hand out for Hunter’s bat.
Hunter gave it to him, and Ben demonstrated a proper stance and what he’d seen Hunter do. “Elbow up, knees soft, swing a few seconds earlier than you are right now, and I think you’ll be golden.”
“Really?” Hunter stood up straighter at Ben’s advice.
Ben patted him on the top of his helmet. “Yeah, and keep practicing.”
It was such a fatherly thing to do that it had my heart stuttering. My dad would often step in, but it wasn’t the same.
“You want to go next?” I asked Ben, trying to cover my reaction.
Ben nodded. “We can take turns.”
I stepped back with Hunter, giving Ben room to operate the machine. While he was pressing buttons, he reminded Cammie of the same tips he’d given Hunter.
