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“Let’s go, Alice!” Mindy shouts as she smacks her glove. “Let’s see what you got!”
Alice is warming up over the plate. She’s got her game face on. I jog deep into the outfield. This girl can really crack it.
We were able to afford this place with my very generous AFA salary. It has a gorgeous six-bedroom farmhouse, an inground pool, and it even came with a baseball field, complete with fencing, a dirt diamond, and dugouts.
I’ve come to cherish our Sunday games. My kids are so fast that we only need us six playing to keep it competitive, although half the neighborhood has been showing up lately to play. I don’t mind. The more, the merrier.
“Smoke it in there!” I shout as my second oldest, Oscar, raises the ball to show everyone he’s ready.
Alice is glaring at him as she holds the bat, ready to unload it.
Oscar takes a deep breath, brings the ball to his chest, and lets it rip.
Fuck, he’s only eight and he throws as fast as a college pitcher.
Alice is ready. She slams her bat into the ball and sends it sailing over my head.
“Shit!” I whisper as I turn and run.
Cheers erupt as the ball lands in the grass about ten yards away from me. My heart is pounding as I run over and scoop it up.
It wasn’t long ago that I was holding the ball a few seconds too long or throwing it softly to give Alice a chance to score. Those days are over.
Her arms and legs are a blur as she sprints around the bases. She slams her foot into the third base and heads home.
I launch the ball as hard as I can, aiming for our neighbor John who’s waiting at the plate. Alice dives headfirst as the ball slices through the air.
It smacks into his mitt as Alice glides over the plate in a cloud of red dust. John is too slow with the tag. It’s not his fault. He’s human after all.
“Too slow, Pops!” Alice shouts as she wipes the sand off her chest.
I grin as I watch her grab her glove and head out onto the field to replace a neighborhood kid, James, who’s up next.
Mindy turns around with a grin. “Getting slow in our old age, are we?”
I shake my head as I smile at her. “I let her score.”
She nods, knowingly. “Sure there, buddy.”
I can’t help but laugh as she turns back around.
It’s just a regular summer day—family, baseball, beers, barbecue, swimming—but it feels like so much more than that.
Every day with my wonderful family does.
I wasn’t supposed to have this. I was supposed to be put down.
Every day is a gift. Every moment is one to treasure.
I inhale the fresh mountain air as gratitude fills every inch of my body. I’m so happy as I watch my smiling kids and my trash-talking mate that it brings a tear to my eye.
“Get your head out of your ass, Bradford!” Mindy shouts with a grin as the ball that James just smacked sails over my head.
I laugh as I turn and run after it, hoping this day never ends.
Epilogue
Mindy
Twenty years later…
I’m holding Cain’s hand as his long-time secretary calls him onto the stage.
“And now,” Jason says into the microphone, “I’m honored to bring up the man of the hour. Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for the AFA or Assisting Feral Agency’s wonderful director and my friend, Mr. Cain Bradford.”
The whole room erupts into cheers as Cain reluctantly releases my hand and walks to the stage.
I’m cheering the loudest. I’m so proud of my man and all he’s accomplished.
He’s transformed the AFA from an organization that killed feral shifters into one that helps them. It was a hard sell at first, and a lot of people in the agency disagreed with his tactics, but now, they all have to admit that my man was right. Everyone says they’re going to make the world a better place, but Cain actually did it. After all these years, I’m still in awe of him.
He walks onto the stage and adjusts the mic as everyone continues to cheer. His eyes find mine and he gives me a sexy little smile.
My heart rate increases as I’m singled out by this incredible man.
I’m still shocked that after nearly four decades together, he can still get my pulse racing like the day we met. It doesn’t take much—a wink from across the room, a light touch as he’s walking by in the hallway, a tiny note slipped into my jacket pocket saying he loves me. He still knows how to make me blush.
“I’m so proud of what we all accomplished in this agency over the past thirty years,” he says when the cheering finally dies down. “I couldn’t have done any of it without the brave, intelligent, wonderful people working at this agency. My success is owed to all of you.”
