Page 11 of Pitch for You

“Of course, sweetie.”

“Look what Brett taught me!” Max exclaimed, proudly displaying a small wooden carving of a horse. His face beamed with joy and accomplishment, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection towards the man who had taken Max under his wing.

“Max, it's beautiful.”

I watched Max playing in the open field. The laughter of Max carried on the soft breeze, reaching my ears and warming my heart.

“Mind if I join you?” Brett asked as he approached me from behind, his muscular frame casting a long shadow across the worn wooden boards of the porch.

“Of course not,” I replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips as I shifted to make room for him beside me.

Brett leaned against the railing, and sighed.

“Max has really taken to you, hasn't he?”

“Seems that way.”

I glanced sidelong at Brett, taking in his strong jawline and the way his blue eyes sparkled with pride. “He's lucky to have you around.”

“Likewise,” Brett murmured, his gaze never leaving the scene. “You and Max… you've given me something I didn't know I was missing.”

It was as if an invisible thread tied our hearts together, pulling us closer with each passing day.

“Come on!” Max called out, waving his arms to get our attention. “It's time to get back to work!”

“Alright, alright,” I laughed, pushing away from the railing and extending my hand to Brett.

As we walked side by side towards the barn, our hands brushing ever so slightly, I couldn't help but revel in the warmth that radiated from his touch. It was a sensation I hadn't felt in years, and one that I never wanted to let go of.

Together, we worked with practiced ease, bodies moving in perfect harmony as we carried out the tasks. The gentle clinks and rustles of our labor filled the air, punctuated by the occasional playful banter and shared laughter.

“Remember when we used to sneak out here after curfew?” Brett asked, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he recalled the memory.

“Of course,” I replied, cheeks flushing. “We thought we were so clever, hiding from our parents.”

“Maybe we weren't as clever as we thought,” Brett mused, leaning closer until his breath tickled my ear. “But some things are worth the risk.”

Max ran up and took Brett’s hand. “You promised to play baseball with me today. Are you ready?”

I liked that my son had someone to look up to, especially knowing his father wasn’t around. He needed a good male figure in his life.

“Alright, let's load up in my truck and i’ll take you to where I learned.”

“Really?”

Brett looked to me for permission and then we loaded up. He drove down the dirt road past the old high school to the field.

Shadows crossed the dirt of the makeshift baseball diamond. A breeze rustled through the nearby trees as Brett crouched down to Max's level, his muscular arms gently guiding the boy's small hands into position on the worn leather ball.

“Alright, buddy,” he said, his eyes meeting Max's eager gaze. “Remember what I told you – grip it like this, with your fingers on these seams. That's how you'll get the most power and control.”

Max nodded. He glanced back at me, seated on the splintered wooden bleachers a short distance away. I offered him an encouraging smile, though my green eyes held a hint of apprehension as they flicked back to Brett.

As Max practiced his grip, Brett shared some stories from his own youth, when dreams of playing professional baseball filled his every waking moment. “I had it all planned out,” he said, a wistful smile playing on his lips. “I was gonna make it big, travel the country, play for the best teams. But life had other plans.”

I watched them from my perch on the bleachers, feeling a tug of nostalgia deep within my chest. The sight of Brett coaching Max stirred up memories.

“Mom!” Max called out. “Look, I think I've got it!”

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