Page 48 of Mending Scars

We planned to catch a Red Sox game one Saturday. Ethan and I had never played baseball, but our dad had taken us to many games when we were kids, and Ethan wanted to continue the tradition with his own son.

They were already waiting at the gate when I walked up to the stadium entrance. As I approached them, Ethan waved me down. “I got the tickets already,” he said when I reached him. He handed me one. “They’re pretty good seats.”

“Awesome.” I looked at the ticket, then back up at Ethan. He picked up Tristan, who looked just like his dad when he was little.

Tristan looked me up and down. “My daddy told me you’re his brother.”

“Yep, that I am. Nice to meet you, little man.”

“He says that you got mad at him, but now you’re friends again.”

I raised an eyebrow at Ethan, who looked away. “Yeah, I think we’re friends again.”

“Do you like hot dogs?” Tristan asked, changing the topic.

I laughed. “Yeah, with lots of ketchup.”

“Good, then we can be friends, too.” Tristan looked up at his dad. “Can we go inside now, Daddy?”

Thank God for a five-year-old’s short attention span.

We definitely didn’t need to be getting into the details of what had caused the problems between Ethan and me.

Ethan lightly chuckled. “Sure, buddy.” He set Tristan down and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

I followed behind them as we entered the stadium. Our seats were in the middle section, facing the stretch between third base and home plate. When we sat down, Tristan sat himself between his dad and me. Ethan smiled as his son looked up at me and said, “Did you know they call this place the Green Monster?”

A grin curved my lips. “Oh, yeah?”

He kicked his feet as he looked out at the field. “Yeah. But there’s not really any monster. They just call it that because it’s big and green.”

My smile spread wider. “Good, because I’m afraid of monsters.”

Tristan giggled. “Monsters aren’t real, silly. Don’t be scared.”

I laughed and messed up his cap. Vendors were walking up and down the aisles as more people filled in the seats surrounding us. Ethan looked at me and asked, “Hey, you want a beer?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Ethan stood as he waved the vendor down and got two beers. He handed me one as he sat back down. I tipped the cup to him. “Thanks, bro.”

Tristan tugged on Ethan’s shirt sleeve. “Daddy, I want fries—the ones with all the stuff on them. And a hot dog, too.”

“Don’t forget the ketchup,” I added.

Ethan took a drink and set it in the cup-holder. “Okay, buddy. Let’s go.” They both stood before Ethan looked at me. “You want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks.” I took a sip from my beer.

Ethan picked up Tristan and nodded. “We’ll be right back.”

They pushed through the growing crowd of people toward the concession areas. I watched the players warm up on the field as I thought about how much my life had changed over the past couple of months. Six months ago, I never would’ve believed that I’d be at a Red Sox game with my brother and his kid, let alone be expecting one of my own.

If it’s even mine.

Damn it, don’t think like that.

I tried to push the thought away, but it always lingered in the back my mind. Every single time. There was no reason for me to question Kaiya, but I couldn’t shake the doubt that hung over me. The scars from my past still affected me; I’d probably never forget the pain they resulted from.

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