Page 133 of Easy Out

“Jefecito. What do you need, sir?" Hart addresses our little man. I giggle and ruffle up Xavier’s head of dark, curly hair.

“Can I come play wift you? I be careful.”

“I know you will, but there are too many people. How about I get Ms. Charlie to have you help with t-shirts in the fifth inning. Do you think you can throw them to the people in the stands?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve been pwacticing.”

“I can throw it farther than you,” Francisco argues.

“No, you can’t.”

“Can too.”

“No way.”

“I can!”

“Alright boys. Neither one of you will be able to help Charlie if you keep bickering with each other.”

“What’s bitchering?” I drop my head back and look to the sky for help while the grandparents snicker behind me.

“It’s what your m-” I glare at Hart.

“James Hart, don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

“Te ves muy bien, cariño. Doesn’t your mommy look pretty today boys?”

“Mommy is always pwetty.”

“Except in the morning before she has her coffee. Papá, remember you said we have to let mommy have her coffee first or she is a scary monster.”

“Cisco, that was supposed to be our secret.” Francisco shrugs, not realizing he just threw his dad under the bus.

Bending towards Hart, I grab his face. He pushes his hat up enough for my lips to graze his. “Tienes suerte de verte tan sexy con esos pantalones.“ I kiss the smirk off his face.

“You sure you don’t want to join me down here?”

“This is your moment.”

“I didn’t do all this alone.”

“I know. I’ll stay with the boys. I’m sure I’ll still get some camera time.” I pretend to fluff my hair. Hart chuckles at my preening. Most days I’m rolling in the stadium wearing a pair of cutoffs and some old Crocs.

Knowing the focus would be on my family today, I dressed us accordingly. All the boys are wearing their daddy’s jersey with clean-ish shorts. They were clean when we got here at least.

I squeezed myself in a fitted sleeveless dress and tied my jersey above my bump. I look cute.

“Okay, cariño. I’ll tell Charlie to get the boys later." I nod and give Hart one more kiss. He touches my belly saying hi to our baby girl. Then I take my seat. My ankles are already swelling thanks to the heat. I’m sure the nachos I ate earlier didn’t do me any favors. No room in life for regrets. Especially when we’re talking about beer cheese nachos.

“Boys, why don’t you sit down. They’re about to start.” All the kids are lining up with their teammates.

Hart is standing just outside the first base line. Manny and Dante are on either side of him. The camera crew is getting everything set up and ready for his interview. His eyes catch mine as one of the guys connects a mic to his uniform.

Love and pride shine in his eyes. I place a hand of my chest where I have his name tattooed in a whimsical font. He copies me and covers my name on his chest.

Hart had his tattoo done before his first game in the minors. His hand goes to his chest after every play he makes. Whether it’s a hit or an out. They are all for me. For us.

We’ve had lots of conversations about names over the years. Especially when we had to decide what to name our children. Hart and I both grew up with the names of our fathers. Names that we changed when we figured out who we were.

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