Jim.
Standing at the trunk of their SUV, a blue cooler at his feet, and lawn chairs slung over each shoulder. He reaches for her tote bag of snacks, and my mom elbows me in the side. “Don’t be rude, honey, go help your friend with the snacks.”
My heart skips a beat, a smile instantly splitting my face knowing he found a way to be here for Jax. My mom squeezes my hand as I pass, winking.
I maneuver around my group of friends, circling our chairs that take up half of the space next to the bleachers, careful not to step in a few of the soggier areas as I make my way to the parking lot.
“I see you’ve met my mom,” I call out once I’m within earshot, reaching to take the tote bag of chips and diced watermelon from his hands. “Looks like she brought an entire picnic for a forty-five minute T-ball game.”
He smiles, slipping his Ray-Ban glasses up on his head before drinking me in. “She sure did, but I won’t be the one to tell her that. Your mom can be quite the persuasive woman.”
“That she is. Looks like she has you wrapped around her little finger, too.”
He cocks a playful brow. “Like mother, like daughter.”
I smile up at him, noticing the curly ends of his hair are gone. “You cut your hair.” Instinctively, I reach a hand up to squeeze the back of his neck.
“I was getting pretty shaggy.”
“It wasn’t a bad look.”
“Meggy,” my mom calls out, “are you just going to stand there and stare, or are you going to help the young man.?” When I look over my shoulder, she raises her hand to give Jim a dainty finger wave.
I roll my eyes and temper a smile, pulling a lawn chair from Jim’s shoulder. “You heard the woman.”
He picks up the cooler with ease, gesturing for me to lead the way.
“Your little buddy is nervous.”
“Aw, I remember those first game jitters. I know he’ll have a blast, though.”
Jim sets the cooler down by my dad, and he immediately reaches for a bottle of water. My mom pulls the tote from my shoulder, pulling out a Tupperware of cookies, offering my dad one before passing the container down the line.
I open up the last lawn chair, counting the line again and seeing we are one short. “I think we need one more chair.”
“I can grab more out of the car.” Jim goes to stand, but Ryan pipes up.
“No need to, we’ll share.” He leans forward in his lawn chair, an arm reaching to grab Lainey from where she was standing in front of him. She squeals as he pulls her into his lap, all too happy to fall into him, and he plants a loud and wet kiss on the back of her neck.
“I swear to God, you two,” I scold, pointing my finger in their direction as Lainey turns to find his lips. “If you hornballs cause a scene at a toddler T-ball game, we’re going to be having words.”
Ryan smirks, wrapping his arms around Lainey and rocking her back and forth. I give them my best don’t-mess-with-me stare before slowly turning around, seeing Jackson come out from the dugout. He grabs a bat and casually swings it side to side as he warms up. I check my watch, noting two minutes until game time.
He turns, looking through the stands, and our entire group waves with both hands. Jenna brings her fingers to her mouth for a shrill whistle, and Jackson breaks out in a huge smile. The crowd around us is fairly thin. Most parents came, but I’m prettysure Jackson is the only kid with a ten-person fan base for their first game, complete with coolers of drinks and cookies.
Jackson's smile fades, and he keeps his eyes on me. I know that look, and my emotions tug me forward, out of my seat and towards the fence to crouch down behind Jackson. He looks to make sure the coach is busy, then drags his feet over to where I’m squatted.
“What’s up, buddy?”
He reaches a hand up, fingers grasping the chain link between us. He kicks the dirt with the toe of his shoe, refusing to look up at me. I wait in silence, knowing he needs a minute to gather the courage to tell me what’s wrong. All the time in the world wouldn’t have prepared my heart to hear his soft voice mumble, “What if I suck?”
If one of these snot-nosed punks told him he sucks, I’ll hunt them down.
Shoving my initial feelings aside, I reach a hand up to clasp his fingers through the fence. “Look at me, bud. I want you to go out there and have fun. YouloveT-ball. If you don’t hit the ball or don’t make it to a base this time, you will next time, or the time after that. As long as you enjoy being out here, that’s all that matters, okay?” He nods his head, turning away from me to look at the figure standing at my side.
“Your mom’s right, buddy,” Jim says, crouching down to meet his eye level. “Once the game starts you will have so much fun. I’ll bet all the other kids are feeling the same way. Just pretend it’s us in your backyard, alright?”
Jackson nods, sniffling once before shuffling to the dugout to join his team.
