Page 36 of The Perfect Game

“Thanks for that. I needed it more than you know.” She reached over and grasped my hand for several moments before she let go, merging onto the freeway in the direction of the warehouse.

For the first time in forever, my mom seemed like she cared.

I thought about Ben dressed up, supporting his mom. Of all the people I could have fallen for, he would be the most supportive of anything I wanted to accomplish. I just hoped he was feeling the same way about me.

Twenty-Two

Ben

The summer seemed to be passing faster than the months did when we were in school, my time being used up with all the practices and work. Serena and I had hung out a few more times, and each time I was split between thinking I was the luckiest guy in the world and wondering when she was going to move on like she’d done with the other guys in school.

We had fun on the Fourth of July, roasting hot dogs and s’mores with our combined friend group, and I even got brave enough to hold her hand a few times in front of all of them. But as the days wore on, I got more and more nervous about the upcoming tournaments, and without extra time to work on my pitches each day because of practice and work, I started to feel like I was running on a treadmill that kept increasing in speed but my legs couldn’t catch up. I was just waiting for the moment when I flew off, my dreams crashing into my reality.

“Ben!” my father called up the stairs. I heard it just as I went to call Serena. We’d never really defined our relationship, but as much as we texted and talked on the phone, we may as well have been official.

I walked down the stairs, curious about what he could want from me at nearly ten o’clock on a weeknight. He’d been working late again, and it had been a few days since I’d physically seen him.

“What’s up, Dad?” I stopped on the last stair and leaned against the banister, looking into the kitchen.

“Why does it say you’ve only worked twenty hours in the last two weeks?” He was holding up my paycheck, and from the tightness of his lips, he wasn’t in a great mood.

“I’ve had a lot of practices and then tournaments. We’re almost done with those, though, so I’ll be taking more hours at the clinic.” I was glad my voice came out in a normal tone instead of conveying the nerves rattling around inside me.

He wiped a hand over his face, his expression just as tight as it had been. I was ready for an explosion, for him to start yelling like he’d done so many times before when it came to my life choices.

“Ben, you just need to move on from this fantasy that you’re going to play professional baseball. Do you know how much guys in the lower levels actually make? It’s pennies, Ben. And the amount of time they have to travel on buses and stay in run-down motels?” He hadn’t raised his voice, but his stare showed me his disappointment. I wished I could just go to my room and lock the door for a few days.

My brain called up a picture of Serena and I thought about what she would do in a situation like that. “I love baseball, Dad. Why can’t I at least give it a shot?” I’d started out strong but sounded like I was begging by the end.

“You need to be saving up for college rather than wasting your time throwing pitches all the time. I’m not going to be covering for you after graduation, and the less money you have saved up, the longer it will take you to go through school.”

I bit the end of my tongue for a few seconds, trying to organize my thoughts before I said something I shouldn’t. “You didn’t always want to be a lawyer, Dad. I’m not giving up baseball, not yet. Maybe I won’t pitch in the major leagues, but maybe I can get a scholarship to play in college.”

My words hit him like a slap in the face. Without another word, he turned and stormed off to the master bedroom.

I ran up the stairs, adrenaline pumping through me. I waited a few minutes before dialing Serena, knowing she could understand at least a little of what I was going through with my father.

“Hey, what are you up to?” Serena asked.

I glanced around my bedroom. It was a disaster from running in and out all the time, dropping my baseball gear before leaving for work, changing from work clothes into nicer clothes to go out, and then the pile of pajama pants I needed to wash.

“Not much. Just got done throwing outside. And then had an argument with my dad.”

“What about?”

I took in a deep breath and blew it all out quickly. “About baseball and how it’s taking time away from making money to save for college.”

She paused before saying, “I’m so sorry. At least you get lectured about your life choices.”

I chuckled. “Right now, I’d be happy if I didn’t get yelled at for something I love.” The words replayed quickly in my head, and I panicked, hoping she didn’t take that the wrong way. My feelings for her grew every time we were together, but I didn’t know what love was, nor did I think I was ready for that.

“If it makes you feel any better, in exchange for helping model at my mom’s show, she promised to be at all my games this year. Isn’t that some kind of written rule in the parenting handbook? You’re supposed to support your kid in their activities—without bribery?”

I thought about her words, surprised by the bitterness in them. I had at least one parent who supported me at everything possible. “You’re amazing, Serena. I’ll be there to watch you play.”

“I’d like that. Are you nervous for your tournament this weekend?”

I thought about the question for several seconds, even though I knew the answer. “Yes and no. My pitches were working really well tonight, so that’s a plus. But this is a big tournament. I just don’t want to screw it up.”

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