I roll out of bed and get ready. By the time I make it downstairs, she’s already waiting in the car. I get into the passenger seat and wait for her to say something, but she stays quiet as she drives, making my skin crawl. Where are we going?
The drive isn’t long, twenty minutes at most, but when we pull up at a large warehouse-like building, I’m still at a loss.
I turn to her. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
She settles back into her seat, staring forward. “This is where your dad took me on our first date. Well, not this exact place obviously, but the idea is the same.”
Their first date?
I look out at the sign of the building—Cave and Cage.
She opens the door. “Come on. You’ll see.”
I hurry to follow her out of the car, and as soon as we stepinside the building, I know. It’s an indoor batting cage facility, and it looks fairly new.
Mom walks to the front desk. “Hi, I have a reservation.”
The young man behind the desk welcomes her in, shows us which batting cage is ours, makes sure we have the right equipment, and runs through their safety instructions.
“Is this right?” Mom asks, putting her helmet on. “It’s been a while.”
The corner of my mouth turns up as I adjust it for her.
I’ve never seen my mom like this before, and never in a million years did I picture us together in a batting cage.
She holds the bat, swinging it a couple of times. “Can I tell you a secret?”
I nod.
Her eyes narrow and her lips pinch together before she says, “I used to hate baseball.”
“No.”
“Yes.” She taps the bat on the ground. “I thought it was incredibly boring.”
I cover my ears like she’s physically hurting me. “You can’t say that.”
“It’s true. I’d rather watch golf.” She pauses and holds up a finger. “Actually, that’s a lie. Golf might be worse.”
I laugh. “Careful, don’t let anyone hear you.”
She swings the bat again. “It’s okay. I’m armed.”
“Like you’d hit someone with that.”
She frowns. “Hey, don't test me.”
I hold up my hands and step back. “Alright. You win.”
She grins, satisfied with my response. “The point is, I hated baseball until your dad helped me understand it. When I saw how much he loved it, I couldn’t help but appreciate it too.”
“But not love, huh?”
“That’s what he had you for.” She winks at me. “It was like you were a miniature version of him. You were swinging a bat while you were still in diapers.”
“I doubt that.”
“I have the pictures to prove it.”
