Page 32 of Hitting the Gap

“Ooh, the beer guy.” Kendall threw her arm up in the air to grab the attention of the man in the aisle with the beer strapped to his chest. “First round’s on me. What do you want?”

Bailey eyed the options of cans strapped to the man’s chest. “Blue Moon I guess.”

“Four Blue Moon,” Kendall yelled at the vendor as she handed her money to Peyton to pass down the line.

Once the beer and money were exchanged and passed down the line, Bailey cracked the top and took a sip of the icy cold beverage. It had been a couple years since she’d been to a ball game, and she’d never seen Gonzo play in his home stadium. Seeing all the Gonzalez jerseys in the crowd brought a smile to her face.

How many times had they lain in the tree fort in her yard talking about when they made it big? And Gonzo had done it. Everything on his list could be checked off, while hers was decidedly empty.

The air crackled while the announcer talked about the upcoming game. The crowd roared when they called out the home team players’ names. Max’s little body vibrated as he stood up, cheering for his dad. Lord, he was cute.

Bailey looked down at third base. Gonzo tipped his hat up to them with a huge smile on his face and she couldn’t help but grin back. She rubbed her hands together in excitement.

“Let’s go, Hawks,” she yelled, then turned to Max and held her hand up. He smacked her hand with all the exuberance of a six-year-old.

“Alright, buddy, have a seat,” Kia told her son.

Max plopped into his chair. “Dad’s gonna hit a homer today,” he announced decidedly.

“We’ve talked about this.” Kia turned in her seat to face him. “As much as your dad would like to always hit home runs, he can’t do that every game.”

“Yeah, but he should still try. Isn’t that what you always say to just try your best?”

Kia sighed. “Yes, of course he will try his best, but like we’ve talked about, just because he doesn’t hit one doesn’t mean he didn’t try his hardest.”

“Bunting isn’t trying his hardest,” Max grumbled.

“But sometimes bunting is what’s best for the team,” Kia said.

“A home run is better than a bunt.”

Kia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fair enough. But a win’s a win and that’s what we’re going for today. Right?”

“Right.” Max jumped out of his seat. “Strike out this bum, Ryan,” Max yelled.

“Max.” Kia’s voice instantly turned into that stern mother tone that every kid knew well, and Bailey bit back a chuckle when Max winced and sat down in his seat.

“Sorry, Mom.”

Kia shook her head. “Language.” She turned to Bailey. “I swear he’s going to be banned from hanging out with Jeff and his friends. Every time they do a boys’ night, I have to spend the next week retraining him on what he’s allowed to say.

“I guess Gonz isn’t allowed to babysit then,” Bailey stated.

“Oh no, he babysits all the time. It’s cute how hard he tries to clean up his language. One-on-one, they’re all good. It’s when they get together and start trash talking each other or watching sports on TV that the potty mouths come out.”

“So Gonzo babysits?”

“Yeah, all the time. He’s Max’s first choice.”

Why did the idea of that make her tummy feel all weird? Of course, he would babysit for his friends. Gonzo loved kids. She was just being sentimental because there was no way Brad would have ever volunteered to look after anyone. How many times had he talked about how he was going to have a nanny when he had kids of his own? It was one of the things they’d argued over when they talked about what their life would be like. Just one more reason she should have seen the writing on the wall that Brad was not the right person for her.

As Carmichael for Seattle walked up to the plate, Bailey shifted in her seat. His 302 batting average flashed on the screen. The Hawks’ pitcher, Ryan, threw the first pitch and Carmichael cracked a foul ball down the first baseline and into the stands.

Bailey’s eyes were drawn to Gonzo as he shifted his weight on his feet. The second pitch soared over the plate and Carmichael swung. The ball cracked off the bat and a line drive rifled down the third base line. With lightning-fast movement, Gonzo’s arm snapped out and snagged the ball. Bailey swore she could hear the ball hitting the leather mitt from her seat. What an amazing catch. She leaped from her seat. “Yeah, Gonzo, wooooo,” she screamed.

She grinned over at Max as she dropped back into her seat and held up her hand to high-five. “That’s how it’s done, baby.”

Max slapped her hand. “Yeah, baby,” he yelled back.

---