Page 61 of Hard Hat Hottie

“I picked up something you and Justin can help me with the next time we get together.”

“What? What?” he asks excitedly.

I chuckle. “It’s nothing big, but I wanted to put out a few bird feeders. My mom likes to watch them. I gathered a few things so we can build and paint them.”

“That’s awesome! Justin!” I hear his voice echo in the distance.

“Well, that did it. He really can’t wait to see you now.” Her voice is so soothing. God, I miss her.

“They’re so lucky to have you, Harlow. You’re such a good mom.”

“Thank you. They’re good kids.”

“Yes, they are. I’m sorry my schedule is such a mess. I’ll reach out once I can figure out how to make it to a game.”

“I understand. And so do they. Don’t stress about it.”

But I do. I know what it feels like to want to spend time with someone, only to get shut out. I’m not their father, but as long as I’m dating their mother, I want them to know they’re important to me.

Crack!

“Go, Alec, go!” I’m on my feet, cheering this kid on like it’s the World Series. Rob is clapping beside me as Harlow runs over from the concession stand, her arms filled with snacks and water bottles.

Rob reaches down, grabbing a hot dog and a water.

“Babe. Why didn’t you tell me you were going to get those? I could’ve done that so you wouldn’t miss the game,” I blurt in indignation.

Harlow looks up at me like I have three heads.

“For gosh sakes, get up here.” I help her unload the remaining items, getting the distinct impression this is routine for her. Waiting on everyone.

Once she’s on the worn, dark green wooden bleachers beside me, I drop my free hand to her thigh as Jimmy reaches over for a burger, eyes never leaving his phone.

My eyes hold Harlow’s, and I drop my volume. “You need to stop.”

“What?”

“If you want something for yourself, fine. But don’t wait on these two knuckleheads. Or me.”

She slumps into me. “I don’t do it often. But when the boys have afternoon games and are with their dads, I’m never certain they got lunch first. And they’re so excited to play, they’ll never tell me. I just get a few extra while I’m there.”

“Well, if you go to games on weekends when you don’t have them, make sandwiches ahead so you don’t miss anything. Let these gorillas fend for themselves.” I bop her on the nose.

I look over to see Justin walking slowly toward home plate. From what I gather, he’s the less athletic of the two, but still enjoys playing. He takes his position, lifting his bat over his shoulder before looking in our direction. It’s only a split second, but I catch it. However I’m certain he wasn’t looking for me or his mother.

Glancing over, I see Jimmy on his phone. “Hey, heads up. Justin’s at bat.” I tell him, trying to keep my tone neutral so he doesn’t feel I’m ridiculing him. Hell, phone in hand or not, he’s already done more for Justin than my dad ever did.

Tink.

In a split-second decision, Justin changes the angle of his swing, causing the ball to bounce between the pitcher and third base. He takes off toward first like a rocket.

I’m on my feet yelling so loud it makes my ears ring. “Go, go, go!”

“Go, Justin, go,” Harlow squeals.

“Yeah! That’s the ticket, Justin.” Jimmy yells beside me.

He’s stopped at second, Alec’s on third. His little head shifts between looking at the bases, the pitcher, and the stands. He resembles a little bobblehead baseball toy.

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