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“You too, Coach,” Jimmy said, suddenly sounding much older than his years.
Turning to me, Glen nodded. “Nice to meet you, Hannah. It’s good seeing this guy smile.”
Looking at Cash, I saw he was right. His smile shone as bright as the sun. “It’s nice meeting you as well.”
“We’re going to go take our seats. Have a great game.”
Cash led us through a gate to the first row behind the dugout, and we took our seats, leaving Jimmy between us.
He flagged down the concessions guy and bought us hot dogs and sodas. Everything felt natural. Like many other families, we watched the game, which was a close one until the sixth inning, when one of the Mavericks hit a grand slam.
“Bad time to throw a fastball. Full count, bases loaded, he expected it,” Jimmy said.
Cash nodded. “Definitely didn’t mean to hang it over the plate so long. What pitch would you have thrown?”
“Curveball. The batter fought off every pitch he threw at him. He got a piece of everything except the curveball. But at that pitch count, he’d expect a fastball ... everyone does after that type of at bat. I’d rather finesse it.”
Cash looked at me over Jimmy’s head and cocked a brow. “You’re a smart kid.”
“What would you have done?”
“Exactly what you said.”
For the next couple of innings, we watched the Hawks win the game, and before the game ended, we left the stadium without incident or running into any reporters.
“Thanks for taking us to the game, Dad. Absolutely amazing.”
“One day, you might be on that field if you don’t go straight to the majors.”
“You think so?”
“Never say never, right?”
Jimmy beamed, and although still not being able to wrap my head around my son following in his father’s footsteps, I put a huge smile on my face and nodded. Cash and Jimmy talked about different pitches and scenarios the entire way home. Seeing them forming a bond was all I’d ever wanted. It was then I felt everything would work out ... for all of us.
* * *
Jimmy’s games always made me nervous, and today was no different. This was a big game for the team. If they won, they’d be in first place and the district champions. We didn’t have any playoffs or tournaments. This was it. To add more angst to my nerves, Cash’s mom was sitting next to my parents on the opposite side of me.
My parents were friends with the Jamesons when they lived in town but hadn’t spoken to them since they left. Claire apologized for her husband’s part in everything that happened. My parents assured her they didn’t put any blame on her. That only made me more thankful that his father wasn’t there.
We were all there for a common goal. To watch Jimmy pitch. I knew he was anxious about this game. For days, he and Cash had practiced with the new training aid that Cash bought him. Watching Cash pitch and teach Jimmy new things seemed as though it were the most natural thing. Every once in a while, they’d butt heads over what pitch should be thrown and when. Jimmy liked to rely on his curveball, but Cash explained when not to use it.
“You don’t want to be predictable,”I heard Cash tell him once.“Trust me, you’ll need a huge arsenal when you go to the big leagues.”
My heart dropped. Each time I heard them talk about it, I wanted to say, “After college.” But I started to sound like a broken record even to my own ears.
The game was in the fifth inning, we were up by one, and Jimmy was still on the mound with the bases loaded. Cash ran out onto the field. Jimmy lifted his mitt to cover his mouth, and they had a conversation. I couldn’t help but wonder what was being said.
“I remember when Cash got into binds,” Claire said, sitting next to me. “His coach would tell him to think of a happy place but don’t get lost there.” She smiled. “I always thought it was a bizarre thing to say, but it used to work.”
I loved when Claire told me stories that could be passed down to Jimmy. Cash ran off the field. The catcher, Ian, went back behind home plate, and Jimmy positioned himself next to the rubber. He shook off the first sign from Ian, then got in his stance. He brought his arm back, and when he threw the ball, I said a prayer for the batter to miss. Thankfully he did.Two more,I thought.
Jimmy kicked the dirt with his foot, sending a small plume of dust into the air. He rubbed his right hand on the front of his pants. He glanced over at Cash, who gave him a sign before clapping twice. He got back in his stance, nodded at whatever pitch Ian called, lifted his mitt, and threw the ball. It was the perfect sinker. That time, when the batter swung, the ball went straight up in the air. The kids in the dugout popped up off the bench and went to the railing. Everyone in the crowd looked toward the sky, and when Ian caught the ball for the third out, cheers erupted all around us.
Students rushed to the field. Once the teams shook hands, Ian and Jimmy were hoisted up on other players’ shoulders. We all high-fived each other and the fans around us.
“This is so great,” Mia shouted.
