Today is one of the biggest games of the season. We’ve been on a winning streak, but we are playing one of Benton Fall’s biggest rivals. The town has been buzzing with anticipation. The bleachers are full, and my attention should be on the game—but it’s not.
Since the dinner at the church, things have shifted between Lily and me. I shouldn’t have said what I did about her mom, but I looked over in that gym to see my kid laughing for the first time in months, and the only thing missing in that equation was me.
It was a moment of weakness—one I can’t afford to have.
Yelling from the field brings my attention back to the game. It’s a tie ball game, and the bases are loaded. Morgan’s up to bat, and we have the chance to end the game here. One more out, though, and we are going into overtime.
I’m standing just outside the dugout while Morgan warms up his swing. A new pitcher has been brought in, and he’s warming up his arm. Morgan watches him, lining up his swing with the pitcher’s throw.
A squeal comes from the bleachers, and I look over to where Mia is sitting. Morgan brought her with him today. She looks much better than she did a couple of weeks ago. She’s sitting in the stands, whereMorgan and I can both see her, with a crooked smile as she watches her big brother. I’ve gone out and checked on them several times since the day I took Morgan to the store, bringing them groceries every time I go, but this isn’t a long-term solution.
Morgan needs help. He has his whole senior year ahead of him and is good enough to play baseball in college, but he can’t do that with the way things are. Plus, Mia deserves more than that trailer they are living in. They both do. Every day, I worry that I’ve made the wrong decision in not telling someone.
The pitcher signals he’s ready, and Morgan takes a slow, deep breath, walking to home plate. Nerves radiate off of him
“You’ve got it, Morgan,” I call loud enough for him to hear.
He doesn’t look back, but his steps take a more confident stride. He’s just brought up his bat to take his stance when someone yells his name from the stands. It’s not the yell of a fan, either. It’s loud, angry, and slurred.
“Morgan, I told you what I would do if I caught you in this field. I’ll kill ya, boy. I’ll kill ya.”
My eyes scan the crowd, landing on Morgan’s dad. Zeb stands at the fence, his fingers laced in the chain links, pulling on it so hard the whole thing shakes.
The crowd has gone quiet, their attention drawn to the drunk making a scene, and the other boys come out of the dugout to see what’s happening.
I wave them back in, not needing them to be a part of this. All of them listen but one—my one. Tanner ignores me, strutting out to where I stand.
“What’s going on, Dad?” There’s genuine concern in his voice as he looks from Zeb to Morgan.
“Just stay back, Tanner.”
“Dad—” he protests.
But I can’t do this. Not right now. “Tanner,” I snap his name, and he glares back at me, stubbornly raising his chin.
“I don’t have time for this right now,” I growl. The words are out before I can stop them, and once again, they are the wrong ones. Like Lily did the day at the church, Tanner looks like I struck him, but Morgan is frozen, staring at his dad with sheer terror. His eyes snap to Mia, and that terror grows into something tangible. He’s not scared for himself. He’s scared for her. I have to make a choice and pray my kid understands later.
I take off, sprinting toward Morgan. Hayes and Campbell are the base coaches, and when they see me running, they follow.
“Is there a problem here?” Campbell asks, looking more serious than I’ve ever seen him.
“Yeah, there’s a problem. That boy ain’t supposed to be out there. He has responsibilities at home, and I don’t want him around that hotshot of a coach.”
“I’m eighteen,” Morgan argues so quietly that it almost gets drowned out in the crowd, but despite their volume, the words deliver a punch.
Zeb sneers through the fence, his belligerence growing. “And you still live under my roof, but not anymore. You can pack your stuff and get out.”
Morgan’s face pales, the small amount of confidence draining out of him. “Please, Dad,” he begs. “I’m sorry.”
He’s not begging for him. If he’s gone, there will be no one else to take care of her, and there’s no way Zeb will let him take her with him.
“Oh, now you want to listen, boy?” An evil glint darkens Zeb’s eye, but he stops, his attention snagging on something in the bleachers. Not something. Someone.
Mia is still sitting in her seat, tears streaming down her little face, and when Zeb sees her, he lunges for her. The crowd gasps, and Morgan takes off running with Tanner, Hayes, Campbell, and me onhis heels. But we are on the other side of the fence and won’t reach her before he does. Someone else does, though. Lily had been sitting a couple of rows up from Mia, watching the game, but now she’s standing tall, blocking the little girl with her body. As far as I know, she has no idea who Mia is besides the connections she’s probably formed when Zeb and Morgan were arguing, but she’s protecting her like she’s known her her whole life.
“Get out of my way.” Zeb is inches from Lily’s face, screaming, but she doesn’t flinch.
“Sir, if you could just calm down. We can talk.”
