Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
My son wanted to hug me, and tears crested my eyes at that.
I looked over at Ana, but she didn’t get off the porch. She simply stood there with her arms crossed over her chest. I could’ve sworn she was crying, but I wasn’t sure. And it wasn’t something I was going to confirm. Looking at her still made me angry, and I didn't want to get upset like that in front of Brody. I didn’t want him to see and hear his parents fight like that. Not when I was trying to build a relationship with him.
I pulled his booster seat from Ana’s car when she unlocked it for me, then got Brody buckled in.
“Ready to go to your first baseball game?” I asked.
“Yeah!”
I waved at Ana as we backed up, but she didn’t wave back, which was fine with me. If she didn’t want to be amicable, then I wouldn't force it. I allowed our conversation to sink to the back of my mind as Brody kicked his feet in the back seat, talking about all the things he wanted to do and the food he wanted to get.
“Have you eaten dinner yet?” I asked.
“No. Mom was cooking, but then she stopped and told me I was going to the game with you.”
“What was Mom cooking?”
“Lasagna.”
“Do you like lasagna?”
“Oh yeah, especially Mom’s. She makes it homemade, and it’s awesome.”
“Your mother makes homemade lasagna,” I said.
“You should come over and try it. It’s really good,” he said, smiling.
The thought of Ana slaving away in a kitchen with those curves of hers tugged at a part of me. I pushed the thought away as we drove to the baseball game. Then we parked and got out of the car. I held tightly to Brody’s hand, making sure I didn’t lose him in the crowd. And I quickly came to realize why this had made Ana so nervous.
My mind started spinning in a thousand different directions. There were so many threats to Brody: people who could take him and things he could run into, food he could choke on or that could make him sick if not cooked properly. The anxiety almost left me breathless, and it forced me to pick my son up and walk him through the gate.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yep. The crowd’s just moving fast. I figured you might like this,” I said.
“I do,” he said as his head fell to my shoulder.
I held him close as I carried him to our stadium seats. I didn’t want to let go of my son. I didn't want the moment to disappear. I set him down and he slid from my body, then climbed into his seat next to me.
And the way his eyes lit up made my chest fill with pride.
“Wow! It’s so big,” he said.
“It is a big field.”
“How long is the game?”
“About three or so hours,” I said.
“Wow. We’re going to need a lot of food.”
“Which is why I’m about to get us some.”
I thrust my hand into the air and waved my wallet around to get the vendors’ attention. By the time I was done, Brody and I had hot dogs, pretzels, nachos with cheese, and two massive slushies brought to us on a whim. We spread our legs and ate our fill, and I watched as Brody took in the crowd around him and the stadium. He hummed over his food and covered his face with ketchup.
“Here. Let me help you with that,” I said.
I took a napkin to his face and wiped him down. He turned toward me and smiled, his eyes lighting up when I smiled back. My boy. My sweet, beautiful boy.
A boy I had missed eight years with.
I smoothed my thumb over his cheek before he turned his attention back to the field, stuffing his face with the hot dog in his hand. He was the most beautiful thing in the world to me.
The game was a blast. We filled up on food and launched out of our chairs every time the Dodgers made a home run. Brody stood on my lap and climbed onto my shoulders, cheering for a team I loved dearly. He clapped his hands and laughter fell from his lips. He asked me questions about the game, and I got to explain to him what all the positions were, what the bases were for, and all the rules of the game.
And the happiness that poured over him was something I would never forget.
“Awww, that was a dumb call, ref!”
I laughed at Brody’s exclamation as the game started to wind down. The game was tied, and the Dodgers had one last chance to win this thing. I sat on the edge of my seat with Brody in my lap, my chin on his shoulder. I felt his legs jiggling. I felt his muscles tensing. He was entranced with the game in front of us, and the second the bat connected with the ball, he started screaming.