My boys.
Sometimes love just hits so hard, and you’re just not ready.Like now.
My son is opening himself up to a man after what his father did, and that man is answering.He is showing up.
And I don’t know what to do with it.
J.T.’s hand comes down gently on the back of my neck, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he steps around me.
He crouches down in front of Evan, big frame folding easily so they’re eye level.
“You want me to play,” he says, voice warm, “then I’ll play.”
Evan brightens instantly.
“But,” J.T.adds, lifting a finger, “don’t get mad when the dads and stepdads kick your little butts.”
Evan’s mouth drops open.
Then he laughs.
“Yeah right!”
He grabs his glove again, already backing away.
“Old people can’t win!”
J.T.snorts.
“Keep talking, kid.”
Evan turns and takes off running back toward the field, his disappointment already fading under the excitement of the game.
I stand there for a moment watching him go.
Then I turn back to my husband.
“You sure you don’t mind?”I ask quietly.
J.T.raises an eyebrow.
“Mind?”
He shakes his head and smiles.
“Woman, that kid just made my day.”
His eyes soften.
“What I want to know is…”
He leans a little closer.
“…if I’m a real good boy out there, will you make my night?”
Heat floods my cheeks.But I smile.
“Count on it,” I tell him.
