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“No problem. I’m glad he’s willing to give it a whirl.”
“Me too. If he likes it enough, Jake and I were discussing signing him up for Little League.”
“That’s a great idea. It would be a good way for him to make friends outside of his class, plus the obvious benefits of a team sport and stuff.”
“Exactly. He doesn’t need to be the star of the team, but if he enjoys it, it’ll be a great experience for him.”
“Here’s hoping he has a good time this afternoon.”
“I’m sure he will. Jake’s a great coach and really good with kids.”
“I remember. Can I ask you to set the table while I plate the bennies?”
“Yes, chef.”
* * *
Well, we weren’t off to a great start, put it that way.
“It’s okay not to get it right the first try, bud.”
He was trying his best to hide it, but there was definitely an edge of impatience to Jake’s tone. It seemed to me that Jesse was being deliberately stubborn and not really trying. As though he’d already decided he couldn’t do it, so he wasn’t listening properly. I’d never seen him like this before, and although it was frustrating for everyone involved, at the same time it was an interesting insight into the way his mind worked. A little glimmer into his personality when he wasn’t trying to be super polite and on his best behaviour all the goddamn time.
“Okay, what did I say we do first?”
“Grip.”
“Right. And where are your hands right now?”
My backyard was pretty big and we were right down near the back fence, in the dappled shade of an oak tree. Jake had brought a weighted batting tee, to give Jesse a feel for how to hit a stationary ball before trying to negotiate a pitch. So far, he’d basically tapped at it with a belligerent frown on his face, so it merely dropped on the grass in front of the tee. I was standing behind the tee, and Jake was in front, about fifteen feet away.
“Hands, bud.”
Jesse muttered something under his breath but readjusted his grip the way Jake had taught him.
“Much better. What’s next?”
“Feet.”
It was like he was wearing concrete boots, refusing to move his feet into the proper open stance that would allow him a full swing.
CHAPTER31
Ally
“You know what’ll be amazing?”
“What’s that?” Jake asked.
I leaned back in my deckchair, crossing my legs at the ankles. “When Logan Hastings next comes to Esperance, and Jesse goes to meet him wearing that shirt, and he can show Logan how good he can hit. I imagine he’d be pretty impressed with that.”
“Wow, I think he would be. What do you say, Jesse? You wanna have something to show him?”
“I guess.”
“Great. So let’s go. Grip. Perfect. Stance. A little wider…that’s it. Now, load the bat, that’s it. Annnnd swing.”
It all looked good to me, technically correct, but Jesse pulled the shot at the last minute, didn’t swing up over his shoulder with enough force, so the ball dropped just a few feet in front of the tee. A small mutter of frustration.
