“I have a few cute friends …” Aurora offered.
Dustin was on his own. “Thanks, but I’m focusing on baseball right now.”
Mom waved her wooden spoon. “There has to be someone … You’re handsome and young. What’s wrong with women these days?”
Dustin had asked himself that same question when he’d first met Clover. She was combative and defensive and yet beautiful and so kind. She gave herself to a cause, and she believed in helping people who didn’t believe in themselves. “There are a few good ones left.”
“A few good ones or one good one?” pestered Zander.
Dustin gave up trying to keep anything from his family. “Maybe there is one that’s interesting.” If only she’d text. It was having to teach her to catch a ball all over again. “She drives me nuts,” he muttered.
Mom pounded the spoon on the side of the pan. “That’s good. Your father bugs the heck out of me, and I love him more than homemade churros. What’s her name?”
“Clover,” he said quietly, like saying her name was a special treat.
All movement stopped. Dustin’s eyes flicked from face to face. Dad was thoughtful. Mom was ecstatic. Aurora had her hand over her heart. “Have you taken her out?”
He lifted one shoulder. “We played catch a week ago, behind my house.”
“No. No.” She tossed her hands in the air. “Ask her to dinner. Make her feel special, like she wants to paint her toenails before you pick her up.”
Dustin considered her advice. Texting wasn’t working. He needed to up his game. Heck! That was his theme in life lately: up his game on the field, up his game with Clover. He was constantly falling short.
Zander’s jaw scraped the floor. “You’re into her.”
“It’s not like that.” Dustin waved their enthusiasm off and backpedaled. “We argue all the time.”
“And yet you say her name with reverence,” said Aurora. She fanned her face.
“I do not.”
Zander kissed Aurora’s cheek. “I’m going to agree with my wife on this one.”
“Punk.” Dustin glared.
“Whatever, lover boy.”
“Zander!” Mom looked to Dad for help. “It’s like they never grow up.”
Dad wagged his finger at Dustin. “Don’t keep her from us.”
“We aren’t dating—I don’t have time. Remember?”
Dad’s finger stopped wagging and started pointing. “You make time. You see all this?” His arms made a circle that took in the children running, their happy laughter, and the whole family gathered together. “This is worth the time. This is what it’s all about. I know you love baseball more than you love food, but baseball should be number three.” He ticked off his fingers. “God, family, baseball. When you figure that out, you’ll start hitting the ball again.”
“Dad!” His words hit too close to Dustin’s wounded pride and his fears of being benched, sent back to the minors—or worse, cut. He had no idea his dad had even followed his at bats. Game stats? Yes, but at bats was another level of support and expectations from his father. Another layer of pressure beaded across his forehead. “I’m not going to get better at hitting by spending less time on the skill and chasing some woman. That’s not how things work.”
Dad shook his head sadly. His eyes filled with something Dustin hoped never to see there: disappointment. His body sagged. Dad didn’t get it. No one had any idea what kind of pressure Dustin was under to perform.
Mom brought out the Jell-O salad, the Snickers salad—which wasn’t a salad at all, but an excuse to eat candy at dinner—and a fruit platter. “No more business talk! It’s Sunday—make it a day of rest.”
Dustin tossed her a thankful smile. She winked and called for the grandkids. They scampered in all smiles and giggles. For a moment, Dustin wished he could be a kid again, where his biggest worry was if there was a Popsicle in the freezer.
Just because he played a game for a living didn’t mean his life was all fun and games. His family didn’t seem to get that.
Clover hadn’t either—not at first. She was coming around. He couldn’t believe she had to look up the definition of a home run derby. That was … charming.
The family found their seats, Dustin between his niece and nephew, where he could help control their serving sizes of the Snickers salad and make sure they ate some protein. Dad said grace and they dug in.
