Page 5 of Batter Up!

“Surprise!” Landon said. “I wanted to catch one more Sunday Night Supper before the season began.”

“Oh, honey! What a wonderful surprise!” Mom said, “If I had known you were coming, I would have made your favorite meatloaf.”

“I love your spaghetti and meatballs, too.”

“Where is Dad?” I asked, tentatively.

“Cleaning up in the shower, of course,” Mom said. “But he’ll never be fully clean. All that grease and oil will be under his nails forever.”

Dad owned Stone Family Auto Shop, the local mechanic shop, that he inherited from his dad.

All three of us boys worked there during high school, but Carter was the only one who actually enjoyed working there. He had always loved working on cars. I worked there now but was about to give Dad my notice. I hated working on cars and wanted to follow in my oldest brother’s footsteps. Landon had worked there until he got drafted to the Miami Jaguars to play baseball five years ago. He had finally made it to the major leagues two years ago, and we couldn’t be prouder of him.

“Hey, kids!” Dad said as he came into the kitchen. He gave Julia a big hug and shook hands with Rob. He then looked over at us three boys and almost did a double take.

“Landon, what are you doing here?”

“Hey, Dad,” Landon said. “Just wanted to see you guys before the season starts”

“I see,” Dad said. “How long are you in town?”

“Just a few days,” he said. “Why were you working on Sunday, Dad?”

“Stuff always needs to be done,” Dad replied gruffly and then looked over at my other brother. “Thanks again for staying late on Friday and helping to finish Mrs. Cowan's car so quickly. She appreciated it.”

“No problem,” Carter said as he took Mom’s wooden spoon to taste the spaghetti sauce.

“Carter Andrew!” Mom scolded. “Don’t you dare put that spoon back in the sauce. You better clean it off.”

Landon and I looked at each other, shook our heads, and had to laugh. Some things never changed.

“Dad, um, I was wondering when it would be a good time to talk?” I began as my dad grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“What’s up, son? Is this a before, during, or after dinner conversation?”

“Before or after, definitely not during,” Carter answered for me as Dad handed each one of the guys a beer. He then poured a glass of wine for both Mom and Julia. Rob declined a beer since he was on call, so Carter threw him a bottle of water instead.

“Well, then, let’s get it over with, so I can eat. I’m starving.”

I took a deep breath, pulled the letter from the back pocket of my jeans, and handed it to my dad.

“What’s this?” He asked as he opened the folded letter. “It’s from Paul Howard.” He began reading, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Who is Paul Howard?” Julia asked as she moved the salad to the table.

“The guy who was scouting Tyler in high school for baseball,” Landon said. “He scouted me and is the one who convinced me to go for the draft.”

“But then he got that knee injury and couldn’t play in the championship game,” Mom said quietly. “What does Mr. Howard want now, Tyler?”

“He wanted to see how the knee is and see if he still has what it takes. He said he was so happy to see you doing well and playing at the same competitive level as the college players he was watching,” Dad said, paraphrasing the letter.

“Where were you playing ball?” Julia asked.

“A group of us were just playing for fun,” I said.

“But Ty never plays baseball just for fun,” Landon said. “I heard from some of my friends that Ty still had it.”

“Oh, honey. I didn’t know you were playing again,” Mom said with a bit of pride in her voice. “How did the knee feel?”

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