“Mom! Did you see me? Coach says I totally crushed it today!”
“I watched, buddy! You were doing great! You made pretty much every catch!”
“I practice catching during recess. Coach says I have the makings of a star receiver. He says I might even break some records, if I practice hard.”
“I have absolutely no doubt that you will, baby.” I smile at him. “Go get your pads off and meet me at the car. Grandma made lasagna for dinner tonight.”
We eat dinner with my parents at least three or four nights every week, just because it’s more fun to eat with them than just the two of us alone, and now that my mom is retired, it gives her something to do during the day, while taking dinner prep off my job to-do list. I honestly don’t think I could have succeeded as a single mom half so well without my parents.
“Yay! Lasagna! I’m gonna eat pretty much the whole thing by myself. I’m starving!”
I laugh. “Well, you know Grandma. She probably made you a whole dish to yourself.”
He takes off his pads on his way to the locker room; a millage rate on taxes from a few years ago paid for a brand-new equipment and locker building for all the various sports that happen at this complex of fields. The building services sports which range from baseball to soccer, football, and softball, with youth, middle school, high school, and adult leagues in each. The building is amazing, actually, with room enough for lockers for each team and each sport, laundry facilities for washing jerseys, and equipment storage. It is great, because I don’t have to haul around stinky pads and jerseys, and Aiden doesn’t have to worry about forgetting his pads at home, or in my car.
Once he’s changed, he climbs into his booster and buckles up, chattering a mile a minute—I have a feeling he’d be running a commentary regardless of whether there was even anyone around to hear.
“—And then I was playing DB against Jimmy, and I intercepted him like six times! He was getting mad, but it’s not my fault I’m so much better than he is! And know what? During school today, Mr. Trent came around to all the classrooms and read his favorite book. His favorite book isFox in Socks, and it’s super funny the way he reads it. He goes really, really fast, almost like he’s rapping, and we were all laughing so hard. And then, because my class was so good today, he read us an extra story. And know what he read, Mama? He read aStar Warschapter book! He’s the coolest. I thought Mr. Townsend the janitor was the coolest, but now Mr. Trent is the coolest and Mr. Townsend is second coolest. It’s kind of a tie, though, because I’ve known Mr. Townsend for pretty much ever and Mr. Trent is new.” He barely pauses for breath, and then he’s off again. “And know what, Mama? Mr. Trent played football in college! He was on TV! Mr. Henry who teaches art—but you know that, duh, because he taught you art too, only that was like, forever ago—and anyway, Mr. Henry was like, Mr. Trent was a quarterback in college. Mr. Henry said something about Big Ten, whatever that is, and he showed us some parts from an old game from when Mr. Trent was in college, and he could throw the ballso far! Like, all the way across the field. But I guess he doesn’t really talk about that too much, or something. But how cool is it that our new principal was like sort of famous?”
“So…you like Mr. Trent just because he played football?”
“No! I mean, yeah, but that’s not the only reason I like him. He’s just cool. He talks to us different than other adults do. You know how some adults talk to kids like we’re all still in kindergarten? I hate that. Mr. Trent talks to us like we’re…I don’t know how to say it. Not like we’re adults, but just…normal, I guess. I don’t know. Plus, he comes out to the playground during recess and he throws the football and shoots baskets and pushes kids on swings and all sorts of stuff. He doesn’t just watch. Plus, he’s super great at reading to us. He did voices when he read theStar Warsbook. His C-3PO voice was almost like from the movie!”
I only just barely stifle a sigh as Aiden keeps singing Mr. Trent’s praises all the way to Mom and Dad’s house.
It’d almost be easier to shut this whole thing down if Jamie wasn’t so darned amazing.
But, alas, he is, and putting him out of my mind is going to prove difficult, very difficult.
