“Fruit snacks,” I say.“Yeah, my kids love them, too.”
“Hey, can I come?”Trace asks.“I’d like to watch the real team practice, and?—”
“Tell Trace he can come practice with us.He can fill in for some people who can’t make it, plus it’ll be good for him.”
Trace overhears through the speaker, and a big smile spreads across his face.He dead-sprints toward the house—to change, I’m guessing.
“I hear you’re going to be hurling,” Natalie says.“Not riding?”
I wasn’t dressed to ride anyway.“I just thought I’d check on the tack room, but I guess I’ll be heading another way.”
As I leave, I notice Sam and Natalie whispering to each other, and I suffer a small twinge of jealousy.I shrug it off, because I know they love me, and I’m just being crazy.Maybe they were talking about a Christmas thing.Or, who knows?
I know they love me.
I gather up a few portable kids’ toys, and the now-famous sugar-filled American fruit snacks, and Trace and I head for the GAA pitch, Trina and Paul also in tow.Trina loves running around, and she and Paul really get on well with Jack’s kids.
It may sound insane, but watching them all play together, I can’t help having weird thoughts about a future of them growing up together.Jack may be too young for me, but his kids and mine actually blend fairly well.I never felt like three kids was quite enough, but it’s what Jason and I had.I always thanked God for each of our little blessings.
But having more?Or even another bonus child together?I’dloveit.
About halfway through what I assume is a ninety-minute practice based on past experience, Trace just pops up in front of me.“You should go watch, Mom.You can’t see from here.”
“Oh no, it’s fine.I’m okay to watch the kids.I said I would.”We can kind of see the practice, but not very well from the back corner where the kids are playing with small, dotted frogs.“They’re making the frogs a mansion with the turf and those dirt piles.”It’s gross, but kids love gross things, and it’s not hurting them or anything else, frogs included.
“You go watch him,” Trace says.“I like hurling—it’s been just what I needed.But Jack is...”Trace’s face scrunches up.“He’s—I don’t even know how to say it.He’ssogood at it.He’s fast, and he seems to just know where the sliotar’s going to be before it even knows.”Trace points.“Just go watch him.He’s also such a great team player for someone who could be a superstar.Most guys like him would be real jerks.”
He hero-worships Jack, and I can’t decide whether it’s good or bad.
I reluctantly walk a few steps away, but then I turn back.“You have to watch them,” I say.“Your focus has to be the kids, not the practice.”
“Mom, please.”
I arch one eyebrow.“Don’t ‘Mom, please’ me, Trace.It’s been a rough few years.”
“And I’m doing well now, alright?Trust.”He points.“And then go watch that boyfriend who’swaytoo cool for you.”
“Um, where’s the loyalty?MaybeI’mtoo cool for him, and you just can’t see it, because I’m your mom.”
He shrugs.“Maybe that’s it.”He’s beaming now, and I realize that maybe it’s good that he hero-worships Jack.He needed a hero.His dad’s death left a pretty big, gaping hole.
When humans don’t have anyone to look up to, they don’t look up at all.And looking down’s bad for the soul.
It’s been really, really bad for Trace.I just hope Jack can live up to all my son’s high hopes and expectations.I’m not sure many people could.For all his goodness and his kindness and his intelligence, Jason was just a man.
Jack is, too.
But watching him, I can see where Trace gets his excitement.Trace has always been my jock.He has a lot of athletic talent, so he values people who have even more.Jack’s just so fluid, so talented, and so handsome.I doubt Trace is thinking the third part, but I can’t help if I am.When I thought in the past about dating again, I never thought I’d wind up with someone who looked like Jack, not in a million years.
Sure, he shaves his head.
But he’s fit, he’s young, and he’sripped.
I’m not.
I look like a mother of three.I’m not sure quite what he sees in me or why he wants to kiss me, but I’m glad about it.Trace brings the kids to me as the practice ends, and when Jack finds us, sweaty and red-cheeked, he gives me all the credit.
“Thank you so much for watching the little rascals.”
