Page 27 of Love in the Outfield

“When I get back, we’ll make arrangements. This isn’t going to come together overnight. There is a lot to consider and Auggie has to get to know us and you know my schedule. It will take a little time for him to get comfortable.”

Mom waves her hand dismissively. “Kids go to daycare with strangers every day. I’m sure he can handle being with a family that loves him.”

I clench my fists in frustration. “Mom, what has gotten into you? Has all logic flown out the window? I’d think you’d want the transition to go smoothly.” Mom’s attitude is so black and white that I want to scream. I’m realizing that trying to reason with her right now is a colossal waste of my time. She’s a smart woman who is currently blinded by emotions. I hardly recognize her.

“Listen, I’m out of here. I still have to pack for tomorrow. We leave at the crack of dawn.”

“You should have an easy time of it with these next two teams. They’re a lot lower in the standings,” Dad says.

“You never know,” I say. “Sometimes you beat the best and lose to the worst.”

“We’ll be here rooting for you. Right, Wendy?”

“Of course we will be.” Mom stands and walks over to me. “I’m sorry, Cade. I’ll genuinely try to be open. I can’t help it. I don’t trust Georgia. Call it a mother’s intuition if you will. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll promise, but I’m one hundred percent sure that you have nothing to worry about.”

“It does make me feel better. Good luck on your road trip. Call me.”

“I always do,” I say then hug her. I love my parents and they’ve always supported me and had my back no matter what. Mom’s overprotective but she’ll come around. She has no choice. My mom is a wicked good grandma to my brother’s kids. The sun rises and sets in Emma and Grayson. It will all work out. Once she gets to know Georgia better and sees what a great person she is, she’ll change her tune.

13

CADE

Ispot Dean waving at me from the middle of our chartered plane and make my way back. With my bag slung over my shoulder, the narrow aisle is even more cramped. I pass other teammates who good-naturedly rib me about my Hawaiian board shorts and yellow Vans.

“Dude looks like Big Bird on his way to the islands,” Carlos says.

“Yeah man, look at those yellow kicks,” Spencer jokes.

“I’m a legend,” I say.

They both guffaw. “Legend? Of what?”

“Google me,” I say. I shove my bag in the overhead storage and plop down next to Dean.

“Dude,” he says.

“Hey, bro.”

“You look like you just won the World Series or something. What’s with the shit-eating grin?”

“Long story.” I look around to see if anyone is paying attention to us then say, “Later.” I know once we take off, most of the team will have their earbuds in listening to podcasts, studying our opposition on their iPads or jamming to tunes.

Iwait until the flight attendant serves us and we’re at cruising altitude before I bring up my situation. I lean in close to Dean and say, “Big news.”

He stares me down brows raised. “Like what?”

“Remember our server at the fundraiser last week?”

“Yeah, how could I forget?”

“I mentioned we had dated before I got traded. I didn’t keep in touch after I moved to San Diego and honestly never thought I’d see her again. Well, a funny thing happened right before that night. I ran into her at a grocery store of all places.”

“Nice. Did you rekindle in the snack aisle?” he chuckles.

“Har har. No, but she’d knocked over a display and I helped her pick up rolling bottles of spices.”

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