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At my old home, I’d played ball in a league. It was the one time I was able to get out and be around people. I never got particularly close to anyone, though. Hanging out with Hunter’s family felt different. They’d easily accepted me, and I enjoyed their ribbing and teasing.
When we finally called it a night, I felt a warmth in my chest. Like a gold ball of light pulsing with energy, making me feel like anything was possible. As if maybe, if I was patient, Abby might come around to the idea of something happening between us. But I wasn’t naive enough to think we had a future.
“You ready to get out of here?” I asked Brody while he was showing Hunter his baseball cards he always kept in his bag.
Brody looked up from the cards. “I’m starving. Can we get pizza?”
“That’s what where we’re headed. To Giovanni’s.Have you eaten there yet?” Brooke asked.
“We ordered takeout at the parents’ baseball meeting, but I don’t think I grabbed a slice.” I’d been too preoccupied.
“I love Giovanni’s,” Brody said.
I didn’t tell people that Brody was my nephew and not my son. I assumed some people in town knew our situation, but it was possible Abby didn’t.
“Want to meet us there?” Ben asked.
“Please,” Brody pleaded.
“Why not?” I appreciated that Ben was asking. It meant he trusted me. It was only as Hunter’s coach, but it was something.
We gathered our things and got into our cars. No one else was practicing that late on Sunday.
Pulling out of the lot, I asked, “How was practice?”
“It was good.” Brody’s gaze was on the view outside the window.
“You didn’t think it was uncomfortable that I was your coach?”
“No. Why would I?” He gave a look like he thought I was weird for asking.
“Did you feel like I was harder on you?”
“No.” Brody was quiet for a minute, so I let it go.
I turned on the radio to baseball walk-up songs so we could debate the best one. It was something we’d done since we moved in together.
After a few, Brody said, “I’d still choose ‘Nothing Can Stop Us.’”
“That’s a good one.” One I never got sick of.
“They played it during the Little League World Series.”
“You watched it?” I asked, eager to know anything about his life with Austin.
Brody nodded. “That was when Dad wasn’t around as much.”
I hated that he was left to fend for himself, sometimes scrounging up food or getting himself to school. “You know you could have called me if you needed me.”
“I know.” His lips set in a straight line.
He was a lot like me. Stubborn. He wanted to take care of himself, but he was eight. He could be left home alone, but not for entire days without anyone ensuring he ate or took a shower. I tried to settle my guilty conscience because I was there now, and I’d make sure he had everything he needed.
It was deeply satisfying to provide for him. To be there for him. For so many years, I worried about him from afar. Offering my help but knowing Austin would only call when things were really bad, and he had no other choice.
I couldn’t screw things up by sleeping with the mom of one of his teammates. It was wrong on so many levels.
Eleven
