“Not at all. What’s going on?”
“Baseball tryouts at the school are tonight, and I don’t think I’ll make it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because all the other boys have been playing for years and I’ve only been practicing for months.”
“Come here, Charlie, and take a seat.”
He sits in the large black leather chair in front of my desk. “First, it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been playing. I know players that started playing travel ball at eight-years old and they never made it to the MLB, and then there are those who didn’t start until they were twelve or thirteen, and are some of the best players in the league. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”
He shrugs.
“It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been playing. What matters is how much heart you have when you play. Coaches see that and they scout for it. They want self-motivated players, players who listen and learn. You don’t have to be the best right now, Charlie. You just have to put in the work to get there.”
He looks up at me and narrows his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure. There’s one thing I know, and that’s baseball.”
“Do you think you can toss the ball with me outside for a bit?”
“Absolutely. I’ll be out there in ten minutes.”
“I’ll get the gloves.” He runs out of the office and leaves the door open. I sigh, realizing there are a few things I still have to get used to living with others. But I wouldn’t ever go back.
I email Travis. “Taking the rest of the day off. Text me if there’s anything urgent.”
I pick up my phone and stuff it in the back pocket of my jeans. Walking through the house, I call for Charlotte.
“In here,” she says, her voice coming from the kitchen.
She’s holding Kitt, but the baby is fussing. Standing in front of them is Jason. With a creased brow, Charlotte’s rocking Kitt back and forth, but it’s not helping.
“Here, let me try.”
She looks at me. “I thought you were working.”
“I was. I’m finished now. Hello, Jason.”
“Hi.”
Charlotte hands me the baby and a jolt of pure happiness fills my blood as soon as she’s in my arms. Her cheeks have filled out these past couple of monthsand her eyes are open and searching the world around her. She coos, and it’s the most perfect sound I’ve ever heard.
“I don’t understand you, Jason. Why can’t you come?”
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Both Jason and Charlotte have their hands on their hips, and it appears like an old Western showdown.
Jason narrows his eyes as I hold the baby. “He doesn’t want me, anyway. He wants him.”
Him?
Oh, this is about Charlie.
“He wants both of you, Jason. Is that so hard for you to understand?”
“Look. You were right. I’m not ready for this. Just tell Charlie I’ll see him later.”
