Page 90 of Convincing the Catcher

My mom looks down. “I don’t think I’ll ever move on.” She exhales, looking at me. “I can’t imagine it, truthfully.”

Freya doesn’t seem the least bit surprised by my mom’s answer, even though she could have taken it the wrong way because Freya has obviously moved on and my mom is saying she never will. I’ve gotten to know Cane’s mom enough to realize that she has more grace and kindness in her pinkie than most people do in their entire body.

“I was the same way. And it took me a long time.” A thoughtful look crosses her face. “Five years actually.” Freya reaches across the table, putting a hand over my mom’s. “I think everyone’s story is different. And I know it seems impossible to think about now, and it will for a long, long time. But one day, you may feel some sense of happiness again. I’m not saying that’s from another man. I’m just telling you that …” She pauses. “Gosh, I’m so bad with words sometimes. But I just want you to know even though you’ll never get over it—the loss—things will get better. And you’ll find a new normal.”

“Thank you,” my mom whispers weakly, sniffling. “I’m just so thankful that I have my girl.” She smiles sadly at me. “I sure loved watching you out on the field today, Harley girl. And for the first time since losing your dad, I felt closer to him.”

I inhale sharply because today was the first scrimmage since we lost him.

“Me too, Mom,” I say honestly. “Me too.”

I sit at this table with two other strong, inspiring women. Each one of us has lost someone incredibly close to us. And as my mom and Freya begin to chat about other things, I’m thankful that my mom has Freya now as a friend. After all, before Cane was my boyfriend, he was a friend.

A friend who helped me through a really hard time.

CANE

The older woman waves goodbye to me and Tripp, slowly backing out of her parking spot now that we’ve jumped her battery. Her husband sits perched up in the passenger seat, but he just wears a vacant expression with a dazed smile. While we helped her get her car running, she explained that he has dementia, and that just a few years ago, he would have been able to boost the car himself.

They were a sweet couple—had been married for sixty-three years—and now there she was, taking care of him. Fuck, it made me sad.

“Well, guess we’d better head back in,” I say to my stepdad.

Just as I start to turn away, his deep voice stops me. “Hey, how’s Harley doing?”

I love that almost everyone calls her Harley, even though to me, she’s always been Harland. Because a name like that is too pretty not to use the real thing.

“She’s been good,” I answer. “She had a rough go of it for a while, but she came out on the other side.”

A few old men walk past us, eyes widening as they wave to Tripp, knowing that he’s a retired NHL player. Luckily though, they keep moving.

“I’m sure it’s helped that you’ve been where she is,” he says softly. “You’ve probably helped her more than you know.”

His hand pats my shoulder before I can respond, and when I turn to look at him, I sense he’s about to get serious with me.

“Her mom was right, you know. Your mom did raise a great man.” He grins. “I’m proud of you, Cane. You’ve put in a lot of work on yourself this year.”

Normally, I’d probably avoid any sort of touchy-feely moment because aside from Harland, I’m just not one to get that deep. I can tell that Tripp is speaking from his heart though. And he isn’t the type of guy to say something just to say it.

“Thanks, Dad,” I say.

It would probably seem weird to others that I sometimes call him Dad, not being consistent. But for me, it’s just always been how it is.

“Just so you know though … you helped make me who I am too,” I tell him honestly.

Tripp is one of the best men I know. He’d give the shirt off his back to anyone. He wouldn’t even bat an eyelash thinking about it.

“My mom, she’s a saint, and, yes, she’s taught me so much. And my dad, from what I can remember of him, he was great. He was a good person. But since day one, you’ve always put my mom and us kids above anything else.” I pause, smirking. “Even when you could have gone to jail for marrying her just so she could have your insurance.”

We both chuckle before I grow quiet.

“I don’t tell you enough, if ever, but until you came into our lives, I felt like I had to carry the weight on my back. The weight of being the caretaker,” I breathe out. “Then you came along, and you took care of all of us. And most of all … you made Mom smile again.” I look off in the distance. “I want to be the reason why Harland smiles despite the pain.”

His palm clasps my shoulder. “I think you already are, bud,” he says honestly. “Now let’s go back in there before they wonder if that old woman kidnapped us.”

I follow Tripp back inside, and right when Harland spots me, her eyes light up, and her teeth flash me an adorable smile, making me do the exact same but probably goofier because that’s what this girl does to me.

Something tells me that won’t ever change either.