Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“Ha. Well, I agree with your wife. But I also feel your pain of trying to get a strong-willed child dressed and to the game on time.”
“Well, her mom and I never married, so that might be why I was caught off guard. We should communicate better.”
“Oh, sorry. That was a poor assumption on my part.”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Totally logical assumption.”
She stretches out her hand. “I’m Layla.”
I shake her hand. “Colten. And the butterfly chaser is Reagan.”
Layla laughs again. “The sack of potatoes I had over my shoulder is Nora.”
Several other parents climb the bleachers behind us.
I smile and nod at them.
“Nora’s dad was a high school girls’ softball coach, so she’s determined to never touch any ball that’s hit with a bat.”
I chuckle. “As the son of a high school boys’ basketball coach, I can honestly say I feel Nora’s defiance.”
“Oh, no … don’t tell me that.”
I shrug. “Sorry. Nora’s dad might want to lower his expectations in this sport.”
Layla keeps her gaze on the girls. “Unfortunately, that will be pretty easy. He passed away last summer.”
“Well …” I, too, keep my gaze on the girls. “Crap. I just … yeah. Sorry. I stuck my foot in my mouth.”
“No. Really. It’s fine. I didn’t know Reagan’s mom isn’t your wife. Some assumptions are natural and fair. Joe had cancer. Battled it for nearly ten years.”
Joe. Of course, his name was Joe.
“My family and his thinks I need to date. Move on. Blah, blah, blah.” Layla laughs. “But some people you don’t move on from. I fear my brain knows he’s never coming back, but my heart doesn’t reason the same way.” She tips her chin and blows out a long breath. “Wow … that was a lot to share with a stranger. Cleary, I needed to get that off my chest, and family isn’t the best sounding board. I’m uh…” she makes a popping sound with her lips “…just going to shut up now.”
I don’t respond because Reagan is first up to bat.
“You’ve got this, Button!”
Reagan whips her head in my direction.
I cringe. “Oops. I guess I need to call her by her name in public.”
Layla laughs, but it’s subdued. I should respond to her. But what do I say?
Reagan gets to second base but out at third. She scuffs her feet along the dirt toward the bench, pouting like a champ.
“Nice job. Chin up. Just have fun.” Reagan doesn’t respond to my pep talk.
A good ten minutes pass while we cheer on the teams. Then one of the girls trips and skins up her knee, so the game is paused.
“I lost my fiancée last January,” I say. Through the corner of my eye, I see Layla turn toward me, but I keep my gaze on the dirt by my black sneakers. “I met her when we were nine. And you’re right, the brain and the heart don’t speak the same language. I don’t trust my brain, so I’ve been writing down things about her, about us, in a notebook because I don’t want to forget the good stuff.”
“The good stuff …” Layla echoes. “Yes. I like that. I think I need a notebook too.”
“Do you have other kids?” I ask.
Layla’s fingers curl along the edge of the metal bleacher while the rest of her body stiffens.
“Don’t answer that. In fact, I’m just going to go sit up there before I do any more damage today.” I point behind us and start to stand.
Layla reaches for my arm, snagging my wrist. She smiles. It’s filled with pain, a desperate kind of pain. I recognize it too well.
“Don’t go anywhere. You’re stuck with me now, at least until the end of this game.”
I ease back onto the bleacher, and she releases my wrist.
“Six months before Joe died, we used some of his pre-chemo frozen sperm because he wanted to see Nora become a big sister before he died.” As tears fill her eyes, she turns away from me. “Go, Nora!”
Nora hits a single, and we clap for her.
Layla clears her throat, managing to keep her tears at bay. “I lost the baby a week before he died, but I didn’t tell him. I wore baggy clothes and kept it to myself. Nora didn’t know either. I couldn’t imagine letting him leave this world with that kind of grief. It gave him peace of mind knowing that after he died, we would have something to look forward to.”
I give her words a little space before whispering, “I’m sorry.”
We manage to make it through the rest of the game without oversharing anything else.
Reagan runs toward me. “Can we go for ice cream?”
I nod behind her. “Depends. Are you going to get your bag and your glove?”
She gives me her annoyed eye roll and pivots to get her belongings.
“Can we go for ice cream?” Nora runs toward Layla.