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Sandra’s eyes widen. Richard’s elbow slips on the arm of the chair.
“I’m going to graduate a semester early,” I add, the words pouring out now that I’ve started. I keep looking at Richard, at those deep blue eyes that each of my siblings inherited, and ignore the jackrabbiting of my heart. “After next semester, I’ll have the credits. I’m going to use some of my inheritance to travel, so I can explore different cuisines, and work my way up in the food industry. As a chef.”
“A chef,” Richard repeats.
“I have the passion,” I say, before he gets in another word. “And I have the intensity and instincts. I realized that even though I love baseball—and I do, I’m not saying I don’t—I don’t want it to be my career. Even if it’s what my father wanted for me. Even if I have the talent. Even… even if you were a professional athlete, and so is James, and so will Cooper.”
Richard sits back, contemplating that with his brows drawn together. “Does this have anything to do with Mia?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I mean, she helped me realize it’s what I want. But I’m not doing this for her. I’m not doing it for anyone but myself.”
“And you’ve thought about it,” he says. “Really thought about it. Because it’s a lot to walk away from, son.”
“I know my dad wanted me to play baseball professionally,” I say. “And I’m so grateful that you and Mo—that both of you kept me in baseball. But this is what’s right for me.”
Even if it’s a future that doesn’t include Mia, it’s still the one I want. I’d rather a cramped kitchen than the vast expanse of left field. A chance to make my own name on my own terms, instead of worrying about living up to someone else’s reputation.
Sandra looks at her husband, her eyes shining.
“Danielle would be so excited,” she says. “She loved cooking so much.”
“She did,” he says. There’s a faraway look in his eyes. “Remember the time Jake surprised her with that gigantic turkey for Thanksgiving?”
She laughs. “She was so worried it wouldn’t thaw in time.”
“Best damn turkey I ever had.” He swipes at his eyes. “Oh, Sebastian. There’s so much of them in you.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t bother wiping them away. James rubs my back comfortingly.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice breaking. “So it’s… it’s okay?”
“I don’t recall you asking for permission,” Richard says, just a touch of dryness in his tone. “But of course it’s okay.”
“I just know how much my dad wanted this for me.”
“What he wanted was for you to be happy,” Sandra says. “And that’s what we want for you too.”
“They’d be so proud of you.” I meet him halfway as he pulls me into a hug. His embrace is tight, reassuring, and I allow myself a moment to just breathe, my face squished against his neck. “Jake would be so goddamn proud of you. You’ve become such a wonderful young man.”
In my old game, I’d bargain away every single one of Richard’s hugs for my father’s embrace instead, if only for a moment. But right now, I don’t want that. I want to stay right here, in the present, with this father of mine.
Mia was right. I am lucky to have had not one good family, but two.
“What about you?” I whisper. “I was worried that I wouldn’t be… as much of a Callahan as the rest of you, I guess. I didn’t want to lose this family.”
“You’re my son,” he says. He pulls back, so we can look each other in the eye, his voice as serious as I’ve ever heard it. “You’re my son regardless of what you do with your life.”
“You don’t need baseball to have our love,” Sandra says. A tear slips down her cheek as she smiles. “You’re Jake and Danielle’s, but you’re ours too.”
The words on the tip of my tongue aren’t Richard and Sandra. I’ve wanted to say them, over the years, but I always held back. Always found an excuse to keep that distance.
No longer.
They’re my family. I’m a Callahan.
I’m my father and mother’s son, but I am Richard and Sandra’s as well.
I look at my family—myfamily—and feel so much love I can almost forget there’s someone missing. Mia slipped through my fingers like a damned daydream, but this is forever. “Thank you, Mom and Dad.”
