Page 15 of Totally Opposed

“Harry told him the same thing. It won’t stop him from asking, though. Just like nothing will convince him what we do is real baseball.”

His sad voice sends a pang to my chest.

“It is, though,” I say, and he gives me a half smile and nods, but it’s almost like he maybe doesn’t believe it either. I grab his arm to stop him from pushing the cart further and turn him to face me. “We are real baseball players, Alan. Don’t let what anyone thinks affect how you see yourself.”

“I try not to, but it’s just so hard. Gramps used to love watching me play ball growing up. He taught me the game on the family ranch, and when I was old enough to play, he took me to every training and was at every game.”

We continue up the aisle, Alan grabbing things from the shelf as we go.

“Has he seen you play Banana Ball?”

“Ha, no. He just sits in his apartment watching the street with those binoculars of his griping about how I’ve ruined the sport he loves.”

“That’s rough.”

“Yeah, but he’s old, so…”

“So what?”

He turns to face me, a frown etched on his forehead.

“Well, there is no point trying to convince an old person they’re wrong, you know, they are so set in their ways and all that.”

“That’s bullshit,” I reply, and he laughs. The way his eyes sparkle when he smiles for real sends a swirl of warmth through my gut.

“He’s just the way he is. I tried way too many times to talk him into coming to a game, to see me play. He won’t budge, so I gave up hoping he’ll change his mind.”

“But you haven’t.”

“I have. I don’t ask anymore.”

“Yeah, but you still want him to come, so really, you gave up trying, not hoping.”

“I guess.”

I can’t imagine not having my family’s support. I’ve always had it. When I was swimming in college, playing cricket, even when I decided to up and leave for a job on the other side of the world, they’ve always been in my corner cheering me on. If Don isn’t going to support him and make him see what he’s doing is amazing, then maybe I can. We’re friends, after all. Sort of. Teammates, or fellow players, at least.

“Do you have much more to get? I could help you carry this stuff back?” I offer, and he grabs a packet of something from the shelf and tosses it into the cart.

“Just a few more things, but that’s okay, I can manage.”

I glance down at the half-full cart. “I’ll help you. I’m headed that way, anyway. I only stopped in here to grab a some stuff for dinner.”

“Okay, then. Thanks, that would be good. Well, I only have milk and a few TV dinners to grab. What do you need?”

“TV dinners?”

“Yeah, Gramps doesn’t cook anymore. My sister Kelly drops off a few homemade things once in a while, but she can’t cook either, so this is kinder, trust me.”

I laugh, and we head to the freezer section for him to load up on TV dinners, and then we grab the potatoes, cream, and butter I need.

“You’re having potatoes for dinner?”

“No, I’ve got shepherd’s pie going at home. Duckie is watching the sauce thicken. It takes a while. I just didn’t realize we were out of potatoes, and you can’t have shepherd’s pie without creamy mash on top now, can you?”

He’s staring at me, eyes wider than normal, eyebrows raised, and with a quizzical grin.

“What?”

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