Joshua released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Colin grinned. “Not bad. Now, let’s see if you can still get it past me.”
A flicker of something—interest? challenge?—passed over Alex’s face. He shifted his weight, adjusted his grip on the ball, and then threw. This time, it was sharper, more deliberate.
Colin caught it with ease. “Great throw, pal,” he said, tossing it back. “Oh, by the way. I’m Colin. What’s your name?”
“I’m Alex,” the boy responded.
Colin gave him a nod, warm and easy. “Good to meet you, Alex.”
Joshua watched, his heart swelling with something close to awe.This wasn’t just a game of catch. It was something more. It wasconnection,conversation—one without words, without pressure, just the quiet rhythm of friendship being offered and slowly, tentatively, accepted.
Alex’s throws grew steadier, his movements less guarded. He wasn’t just tossing the ball anymore; he was engaging,responding, watching as Colin bent over, swaying on his feet in anticipation of his throw, smacking his fist into his palm.
To Joshua’s astonishment, Alex grinned and bounced the ball in his hand before tossing it once again, harder this time.
Colin let the game unfold at its own pace, letting Alex’s body language guide his every move. He didn’t praise every throw, didn’t overdo it with encouragement. He simply played, giving Alex space to sink into the moment, to believe—for just a little while—that he was safe and completely accepted for who he was.
As Joshua watched, Alex stepped further onto the grass and threw the ball with real force. Colin backpedaled and nearly tripped, one extended hand barely catching the ball. “Holy crap, Alex!” Colin sputtered, and to Joshua’s shocked amazement, Alex threw back his head and laughed.Laughed!
Joshua swallowed against the lump rising in his throat. He’d tried to reach this kid, using every tool at his disposal and failed spectacularly. But Colin? Colin had cracked the door open with nothing more than a ball, a glove, and the effortless warmth of someone who knew exactly when to speak and when to let silent acceptance do the talking.
Laughing along with Alex, Colin fell to the ground, the ball still clutched in his hand. “No fair!” he teased, then sat up on the grass and tossed the ball into the air, catching it in one hand. “Let’s take a break.” He patted the grass next to him, and after only a moment’s hesitation, Alex moved to his side and sat down near him. “Thanks for having a catch with me,” Colin told him.
Alex gave him an uneasy smile and offered the baseball glove.
“Nah,” Colin said, waving away his offer. “You keep it. I’ve got others.” He tilted his head toward Rainier Clinic. “You seeing someone here?”
Alex nodded, and Colin nodded too. “My husband works in there. It’s a great place.” He leaned closer to Alex as the young man murmured something too low for Joshua to hear. He sawColin respond, reaching to rest a large, comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder.
And for the first time since meeting Alex, Joshua felt a glimmer of hope, not just for Alex, but for the small miracle of trust being created, one catch at a time.
Chapter 10
The Listening Heart
Joshua glanced around his office and sighed. Every flat surface was covered with Camp Pride paraphernalia. Large boxes were scattered here and there, overflowing with banners, water bottles, and brightly colored signs. His clipboard held daily schedules, weekly schedules, cabin assignments, and various legal papers, all signed and ready to hand over to the Verdun Adventure Bound staff. “We’re as ready as we’re going to get,” he muttered, glancing toward the door. Colin was due there any second, and he was bringing Alex Mayfield with him.
It had been two weeks since Alex and Colin’s game of catch, and in that time, Colin had deepened his connection to the shy, frightened youth. He had taken Alex for walks along the Rivanna River and to Moo Thru for ice cream, keeping things casual but nudging Alex gently toward opening up. A smile here, a quiet ‘thanks’ there—each one a small victory
But Joshua had yet to form his own connection with Alex. He had seen the boy only in passing, exchanging polite, casual greetings. Now, with Camp Pride just days away, it was time to bridge that gap.
He adjusted the stack of camper files on his desk, his fingers tapping absently against the folder labeled Alex Mayfield. Heknew the basics: thirteen years old, a history of abuse ending with his placement in a foster home, a bright but introverted kid who always kept to himself. To Joshua, this was a very familiar scenario. What hedidn’tknow was how to reach him. Or even if he could.
The door swung open, and Joshua quickly stood. Colin stepped inside, his easy grin in place, and behind him, hesitating just inside the doorway, was Alex.
Joshua’s heart tightened. The boy looked smaller in person than he had in Joshua’s mind: his shoulders hunched, his wary gaze darting around the room as if seeking an escape route.
“Hey, bud,” Colin said. He moved to Joshua’s side and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I think you know my friend, Alex.” He gave Joshua’s cheek a quick kiss and turned to the boy. “You know my husband, Josh, don’t you?”
Joshua took a breath, then smiled. “Hey, Alex. It’s good to see you again.”
Alex didn’t speak, just gave a small nod before throwing a cautious glance at Colin, as if searching for reassurance.
“Man!” Colin said, looking around. “This place is a mess!” He perched on a corner of Joshua’s desk, one arm draped casually around his husband’s shoulders, then leaned closer to Alex, who was looking around at the chaos. “He’s usually not this messy at home. He leaves that tome!”
Joshua groaned, leaning into Colin. “I just can’t seem to get organized! Listen, maybe you guys could help me out.” He handed Colin a sheet of paper from his clipboard. “These are all the games and activities we’ll be doing at Camp Pride. Could you guys go through that box of prizes and help me decide which prize to give out for each game? I’m really terrible at that sort of thing.”
