“I know you would. If only I could convince your father. That man never wants to take a day off.” She says it jokingly, but my smile still falters. The stress over my dad’s health scare really did a number on both of us. I know she really does want a beach vacation too. She could probably use one more than me right now.
“How are you and Pops doing?” His heart operation was terrifying. My normally active father was laid up in a hospital bed and then later at home.
“He’s just so restless these days. So difficult. Always coming up with new things to do and pushing the limits. You know the doctors told him to go slow.”
I grimace. I knew this was hard on him. It was hard on all of us.
“He’s a stubborn old mule. You know you can’t keep him down for long. He will be just fine, Ma.” It’s the end of his recovery period and the doctors cleared him, but she is still scared to let him get back to normal activity around the farm.
“I caught him in the barn trying to throw hay bales! He’s going to give me gray hairs, Preston!”
I laugh because Ma always says that. My parents have been married for a few decades. They bicker like none other, but they also love each other fiercely. I don’t know what they would do without the other. One day, I hope to have a love half as special as theirs.
There’s still time but maybe I should start getting seriousabout settling down. I can’t play baseball forever. It would be nice to have someone to share my life with when it all ends. Most players start retirement in their early 30s. I’m already there. Hopefully, I have many more years left in the game. But, if my next chapter is coming sooner rather than later, I’m not sure I want to spend it alone.
“You’d look beautiful even with gray hair. Let him do some smaller stuff. I know it’s hard, but he needs to work. To feel useful.”
“I know.” She sighs. “I’m not going to lie to you. This pandemic thing is getting a little worrisome, especially because he’s more at risk since his surgery.”
I scrub a hand down my face as I sit up. “What have the doctors said?”
“His immune system may be weakened from the procedure and the medicine. His last checkup was positive. All heart and lung function are normal. So, he should be okay as long as we keep our distance.”
“That’s really good news, Ma. Just do what they tell you. Do you need me to come up there?” I take a deep breath, relief seeping into my tense muscles.
“Oh no, honey. You don’t need to do all that. Take care of yourself all the way down there. We are just fine. I promise. I’m sorry to make you worry.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes.
“What else is going on?”
“People are going a bit wacko at the grocery store. Stocking up on toilet paper and hand sanitizer. Wiping everything down with Clorox wipes.” I listen as she tells me stories about the people in my hometown, laughing occasionally at the antics she describes. “You know the people in this town. Nuts. Every one of them.”
“But you love them.”
My parents love their small town Georgia life. It makes mehappy that they’re so content, but it’s not the life for me. Luckily, accepted and strongly supported my dream. I hit the jackpot on the parental front.
“You know I do.” She sighs. “When do you come home?”
“I leave tomorrow.” Looking out over the translucent blue water, I wish I wasn’t leaving so soon.
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” she says wistfully.
“I thought about extending my trip.” Vocalizing my inner thoughts, I begin to pace the railing.
“Really?” Surprise is clear in her tone. I imagine she thinks I am chomping at the bit to get back to work out and prepare for the season.
“Yeah, it’s not like I can do anything in Tampa. The season is postponed indefinitely and we can’t even workout together. What’s a few more days?”
“I don’t know, honey. I know you aren’t sure what’s next for the season, but it might not be a good idea to stay any longer.” She’s using her mom voice, trying to rationalize without outright telling me what to do. “They’ve been saying on the news that flights are getting canceled and people shouldn't be traveling.”
“Oh damn—” I hadn’t considered that.
“Language,” she fusses, and I laugh
“It’s hardly a bad word, Ma.”
