“Ryan, I know you, my boy.”
“I mean, I wasn’t upset or bothered, but more like, I was worried.”
“About what?” Russell quietly asked while his fingertips gently massaged my stomach.
“Your parents have a shelf in their hobby room that has a USC baseball cap with my last name and number on it. And next to it are the books I’ve written.”
“I know.”
“You knew?”
“They told me about the books, and Dad and I had spoken on numerous occasions about your USC baseball days. Is your worry surrounding the books and cap?”
“It’s just…” I began and tried to wrap my head around what had really worried me. “Surrounding this shelf are pictures of you doing great things with your family. Graduating with two degrees, football, Halloween costumes that you’d made, all of these family things. You have a wonderful family, and I’m just a shitty guy from Los Angeles with a terrible family.”
“You’re not a shitty guy. You’re mine. And, I’ll remind you that you graduated college as well.”
“Not with two degrees.”
“You put yourself through college without any support. That is remarkable and something you should be proud of.”
“I am, but I’m nowhere near the level of excitement that you are. You played football for a Big Ten school—”
“You played baseball for a PAC 12 school. I didn’t even start, Ryan. You were the starting third baseman.”
I relented and took hold of his hand. Russell squeezed my hand and then leaned over to kiss me.
“I love you, Ryan. All of you.”
“I love you too.” When Russell turned the light out, I added, “You made some badass Halloween costumes.”
As he wrapped his arm around me, the low rumble of his laughter made me smile before I drifted off to sleep.
