Page 20 of Love in the Outfield

“I do,” he says quietly. “See ya Monday, Georgia.”

“Yes.”

“Sweet dreams.”

“Thank you, Cade. Night.”

I disconnect and bury my face in my palms. Mama would have a hissy fit if she knew Cade was flirting with me. She doesn’t want Cade back in our lives. She’d sooner tear him limb from limb with a tongue lashin’ for even thinking he had a right to sweet talk me. He won’t stand a chance against Mama.

I step outside to let Jasper do his business before bed and he runs straight out to the wooded border to pee. I sit on the top stoop next to my potted herbs and breathe in the fragrant basil almost smothered by the Gardenia and Jasmine shrubs next to my mobile. I’m lulled by the crickets and tree frogs serenading me. The moon is almost full, casting a glow over the yard. I see lights on at my parents’ house so I’m guessing they’re probably up watching TV. It’s peaceful here. We live on five acres, most ofit wooded, sandwiched between farmland. Our closest neighbor is nearly a mile down the road.

As peaceful as it is, I’m feeling restless… like I want to crawl out of my skin and I hate it. It’s like I’m waiting for something. I was doing so good before Cade Jennings showed back up in my life. Why did he have to go and ruin everything? There will be no use arguing with him about child support. He’s as stubborn as a mule. I don’t let that good-natured charm fool me. And I can be just as stubborn. He’s going to have to abide by my rules. That’s all there is to it. I sigh deeply, then stand up and whistle for Jasper. He comes a running and we go inside and head to bed. It’s been a long day.

10

CADE

Isit on top of a picnic table partially shaded by an old oak tree waiting to meet my son.My son!It’s not lost on me that this is one of those epic once-in-a-lifetime moments. I go from overwhelm to excitement every other second. I lay back with my arms tucked under my head and study the tree. A warm gentle breeze stirs the leaves, creating a soothing rustle, kind of like nature’s lullaby. Which, not gonna lie, I need right about now.

A huge bag loaded down with merch sits in the backseat of my Porsche. A Cutters ball cap, kid-size, a number eight Cutters jersey 2T, a pair of Nike kicks, I guessed at the size, Derby, the Cutters mascot, a large stuffed thoroughbred, a Little Tikes plastic car, and a very cool plastic carrier truck that has small colorful cars loaded inside. I had a little help from Kennedy, my sister-in-law. I threw in some animal crackers and fruit snacks, which I googled to make sure they were safe. I may have overdone it a bit but hey, I have two years to make up for.

I hear Georgia’s car and sit up as she pulls in and parks next to me. I watch her get out and drink in every detail. She’s wearing shorts… ah… I remember those long sexy legs wrappedaround me. Her pulled-up hair shimmers in the light, warm and rich, a stunning array of copper and auburn tones. Her ponytail spills down her back like a molten waterfall. She waves to me before reaching in for August. He shrieks with excitement as she hauls him out. I feel an unfamiliar wave of longing settle in my chest. She puts him down and his face is alight with joy.

My stomach and heart are doing funny things watching my son run towards me, if you can call it running. I’d say it’s more of an enthusiastic wobble with slightly uncoordinated energy barreling along. I jump up and move towards him when he stumbles, expecting him to cry but he quickly bounces up giggling and continues towards me, but more importantly, the playground. Now I know what love at first sight feels like.

He points and squeals when he spies the spring riders. There is a cow, a horse, a ladybug and a bumblebee. I wonder which one he’ll pick. He notices me staring at him and stops. I smile and he glances at his mom for reassurance, then grins at me.

I approach Georgia, who is carrying a cooler with our lunch inside. She looks about as nervous as I feel.

“Looks like we have the playground all to ourselves,” she says.

“Yep.”

“Auggie,” she calls.

He ignores her and runs straight towards the spring horse. She rolls her eyes at me. “Sometimes I’m just wasting my breath.”

I laugh.

“Go on over. He’ll let you help him up. Cookie, the pony, is his favorite,” she says.

“You must come here often if you’ve named a playground pony.”

“All the damn time. You try keepin’ an eighteen-month-old occupied. Not an easy task.”

I walk over, crouch down beside August, and stare into the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen outside of my own reflection.

“Hey, August.”

He dimples then says, “Me wide,” while pointing at the low-to-the-ground spring pony. He holds his little arms out for me to lift him and I’m a puddle of feels. I fight the urge to bury my nose in his hair. He’s solid but soft and cuddly… I don’t want to let go. Something inside of me breaks and I’m overcome with emotion. I take a chance and go in for one sniff before setting him on the spring action pony.

He immediately begins rocking so I stand close… just in case. I quickly see that he has excellent balance and motor skills. He has the horse rocking and bobbing like a future rodeo star. Georgia walks up beside me and we watch together.

Her soft smile is full of pride. “He’s big for his age. His pediatrician says he’s in the seventy-fifth percentile.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“Oh, sorry. It means he’s bigger than seventy-five percent of children his age and smaller than twenty-five percent.”

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