No one listens.
I’m standing in the center of a shimmering infield—a dusting of the colorful unicorn shower clinging to my shoes. The mascot is leaking sparkles like a broken piñata.
Kids are spinning, tossing glitter like confetti, throwing it in the air and at one another.
Mia’s sitting in the dugout, a soft smile on her face, her serious eyes taking in everything with a mix of what appears to be amusement and exasperation.
I walk over to the Raccoon holding the ball and extend my hand. She plops it into my palm. I raise it into the air.
The children all look up at the ball like I’m Mufasa dedicating Simba as the next reigning king.
“Keep your eye on the ball,” I say calmly.
Everyone nods.
“And only run after you hit it,” I add.
“Okay, Coach G!” my team shouts.
One girl sneezes. Glitter lifts and falls.
“Did we win yet?” Macy asks.
“Not yet,” I tell them. “Now get back to the dugout.”
Chapter 18
Greyson
I don't know when we'll see each other again
or what the world will be like when we do,
but I know I’ll miss you.
~ Arthur Golden
The next day, I show up a few minutes early to work. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the moment her van pulls into the lot. She hasn’t seemed to notice any difference in our routine despite the fact that I’m killing time in my Jeep every morning until she arrives.
We lost yesterday’s game four to one, with Mia hitting our only home run.
After the game, we went out for pizza with all the families, leaving a sparkly trail of glitter in our wake.
Hallie pulls into the station parking lot and hops out of the van, glancing over at me and smiling.
I step out of my Jeep and walk side-by-side with her toward the station.
“That was some game,” she says with a soft chuckle.
“Nowhere to go but up,” I say. “Was Mia disappointed?”
“She practically hit the ball out of the park.”
“I saw. I was wondering if she was disappointed at the loss. She takes baseball so seriously.”
“We talk about losses as an inevitable part of life around our house. So, she’s learned to take them in stride. She’s lost more than a ball game here and there.” Hallie’s face goes momentarily still. Her eyes shift away and then her warm smile returns almost too quickly. “She was pretty entertained by the mascot.”
“I think I’m going to owe the Parks and Rec some compensation for the glitter clean-up.”
