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Tom was a busy man too, but he’d cut off his own arm before he’d miss something important to his wife or one of his children. In fact, if the situation came up (and it had), Tom would fly from Australia to LA just to walk Genny down a red carpet, then fly right back in order to continue commentating the matches, which was what he did now that he’d retired.
Tom would find a way…and did.
Genny, the highest paid actor in Hollywood, would find a way…and did.
Corey showed up in the seventh inning, and he might not know much about baseball, but he knew there were only nine innings.
However, it wasn’t only Genny and Tom being disappointed in him that was difficult to ignore.
It was his ex-wife Sam’s seething fury that Corey could feel all the way to where he was standing.
She was there, and probably had been since before the game began, so she could get a seat where Hale could see she was present, and his father wasn’t.
And she’d taken all that time Corey hadn’t shown not to cheer her son on, but to feed her fury at her son’s father. So now, she wasn’t even paying attention to the game. She was glaring at Corey.
He had to admit, she had reason to be angry, and that reason wasn’t (all) about him missing Hale’s baseball games. He’d confessed he’d cheated on her (when he hadn’t, but she didn’t know that). He’d told her it was with Genny (when it wasn’t). Considering he’d been in love with Genny since he was ten years old, it was a play to win Genny (it failed). He and Sam had only been married a short time, and she’d been pregnant with Hale when he’d done what he’d done.
So, yes. That was bad.
But for shit’s sake, it had all gone down fifteen years ago.
She needed to get over it.
Hale wouldn’t miss his mother’s mood. And Hale wouldn’t be taken in by his mother’s show of support either.
Corey had no idea where his son got his athletic prowess, since it certainly wasn’t from Corey or Sam, but he got his brains from his father.
It was the top of the ninth when Sasha skipped over to him and threw her arms around his legs, tipping her head back and shouting, “Hello, Uncle Corey!” like he was a baseball field away and not right there.
He put his hand on her shining, golden hair and replied, “Hello, Sasha.”
“Hale got a home run in the third inning,” she shared. “Dad nearly had aheart attackhe was so excited. Dad said it was a special one because there were a lot of people on the bases.”
Of course, Hale got a home run with “a lot of people on the bases.”
“And he’s stolenthree bases. Dad says that’sa whole bunchfor one game,” Sasha relayed.
“Excellent,” Corey murmured.
At this point, Chloe sauntered over, more naturally self-possessed than most adults Corey knew…and she was ten years old.
“Hey, Uncle Corey,” she greeted.
“Chloe.”
She got up on her toes and he bent to let her kiss his cheek.
Sasha, only six, kept hold of his leg while Chloe came to stand at his other side.
Sasha was there because she was a bright, sunny child who loved everyone, and it was probably doing her little soul irreparable harm to allow Corey to stand by himself at the side of the bleachers for a single moment longer.
Chloe was there because she knew her mother, father and Aunt Samantha were pissed at him, and she loved her Uncle Corey. The game would end soon, and she was either going to run interference, or simply with her little-kid presence make it difficult for anyone to confront him in an ugly manner.
If it was any other child her age, Corey would be more comfortable thinking she didn’t understand what she was doing. Something like that would be uncanny in a ten-year-old.
However, this was Chloe. She knew precisely what she was about at all times.
And she was there to fend off Samantha.
