“Maybe put them where they are supposed to go.”
“I will.” He glances at the clock. “We have to leave or we won’t be there early.”
“I was waiting on you.”
“I have a good feeling about this tournament.” He grabs his baseball bag and I get the other bags. “We’re bringing home a trophy.”
“Dad, you coming?” I call out as we make our way to the garage.
“I’ll meet you there. I’m waiting to make sure Abby makes it out okay.”
How did he— who am I kidding? He probably knew before I did. At least they know they have people to go to regardless of which parent, or grandparent, it is.
We did not in fact win any games last night. I’m not sure what happened, but the boys didn’t play the way they usually do. There were missed catches, balls they had no business swinging at, and miscommunication all over the field. It’s like they forgot how to play baseball.
Keith is on his way to the game with Abby in tow. From the texts she sent me last night, it looks like there’s going to be a lot of hurt feelings on the team this year. The coach is shuffling them all around and they won’t be playing with their friends. I’ll have to ask her for more information when they get to the game.
“Is Grandpa on his way?” Isaac asks from the front seat as we pull into the sports complex.
“Yeah. He should be right behind us. I think he was stopping to get breakfast for us and sports drinks for y’all.”
“Good. He’ll be here during warmups.”
“Why does that matter?” I glance at him from the corner of my eye. I have to keep my eyes on the road at all times because kids dart out from between cars without looking both ways. It’s one of my pet peeves.
“Because he didn’t make it until the beginning of the first inning last night, and I know that’s why we didn’t do as well.”
“What is he? A team mascot?” Good grief, if he finds this out, his ego will never stop.
“More like a good luck charm.” He fiddles with the door handle as I put the car in park.
“Way to make your mom feel special.” I laugh so he knows I’m joking. Baseball has never been my thing, but I’ve learned it over the years since he started playing.
“You are special.” He grins at me and opens the door. “You bring all the good snacks.” He rushes out of the car with his bag in hand and runs toward the field.
There are worse things, I guess. I could be one of the parents who doesn’t show up to anything. There are extenuating circumstances for everything, I know that, but I always want to be in the stands when the kids look up. Despite what other people think, they always do.
I grab the bag with the snacks and the other bag with the sunscreen and carry one on each shoulder to the stands. The one perk of having a kid that likes to be the first one to warm ups is I always get a good spot on the bleachers. Which also means I don’t have to lug around chairs everywhere we play.
I place the bags far enough on the bench I’m on to save a seat for Abby, Keith, and Dad. Some of the parents grumble when they see the bags, but I don’t care. We all sit together.
Dad is the first one to show up with a bag in each hand. One with food and the other drinks for the bows. “Take this,” he hands me a bag. “I’ll take this other one to the coach.”
I rummage through the bag, pulling out the breakfast tacos I like and leave the rest for the other three to fight over. Opening up the potato and egg taco and adding salsa. It’s the best way to eat them.
“I see you’ve already gotten what you want.” Keith’s voice scares me and I barely catch my taco before it falls to the ground.
“You should learn to make a sound when you approach,” I glare at him as I take a bite. “And yes, I did. If y’all wanted dibs, you should have gotten here earlier.”
“We weren’t even that far behind, Mom.” Abby shakes her head and grabs a couple of tacos. “We were trying to find a close parking spot when we saw Grandpa get out of his car.”
“Walk faster,” I mumble around a mouthful of food.
Keith’s only response is to shake his head. He watches our daughter put her earbuds in and get lost in her phone before turning to me. “So how are things with the new boyfriend?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug my shoulders and take another bit to give myself time. “We’ve talked a little bit, but mostly about work.”
“I’m sorry.”
