Page 77 of Pitcher Us
“Yeah!” Miles cheers as he takes the paper from my hands.
I chuckle. Miles is great, and this is really what I like when it comes to kids—fun for a few hours then I get to send them back to their parents. Growing up, I had always thought I wanted them, but now my cool aunt status feels like the right fit for me right now.
Dex still hovers hesitantly, but I don’t take it personal. I’m not fully versed on the extent of what happened, but according to Shannon, Miles’s mom got a job at a major law firm, then left Dex and decided she only wanted to see Miles one weekend out of the month. My heart hurts for the kid but from what I’ve seen, Dex gives him his all. I know he’s been worried about how everyone would respond to having a five-year-old so present during the season, but so far, everyone has loved having Miles around.
I squat down in front of Miles and point at the list of players and their numbers. “Okay, bud. We’ve got a lot of pictures to take, and I need your help getting everyone in order. Think you can help me keep ’em in line?”
Miles nods eagerly. “You got it!”
I take a quick glance down the list and note that I won’t need Dex for several shots. “But first, tell your dad it’s not even close to his turn so he can go work without worrying right now.”
“Hit the road, Dad,” Miles snaps, and then snickers. “I’ve got work to do!”
And, boy, did he take his job seriously. I was allotted three hours to get every player, every coach, and team pictures done.But with my little drill sergeant of an assistant, we got it done in two.
Apparently, the key to keeping grown men in order is to have a five-year-old yell at them. Miles also wasn’t afraid to throw some threats around. I heard him tell many players that he would have me draw mustaches and black out some of their teeth in their photos if they didn’t listen.
With the team all set up for the final picture I look down at Miles. He’s looking at the guys so proud. “Psst, hey, Miles.”
He jerks his head up to me. “Yeah?”
“Do you want to take one with everybody?”
“Can I really?” Miles squeals.
With a chuckle I turn back to the players. “Okay, two more. Ready?” I click the last one I need and now for the one I want. “Okay, Miles, go where you want to stand.”
As he makes his way up with a little strut in his step, all of the guys start cheering his name. With a massive smile on his face, Miles runs next to his dad, and Dex pulls him onto his shoulders.
“Alright, Miles, you ready?” I yell, and when he gives me a thumbs up, I take the last picture. “Okay, Mr. Olsson, I’m all good here.”
I know I need to get resituated for the scrimmage, so I head back to my bag so I can start reorganizing my things and changing my lenses. But before I can put anything away, Dex comes over with giggling Miles still on his shoulders. “Hey, Callie. I hate to ask, but could I possibly get one more picture?”
“Ah, of course!”
I move Dex over to the side so the stadium is in the background as opposed to all the players. “Ready, one, two, three.”
It was around two that Miles threw his hands up with peace signs and the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. Goodness, melt my heart into a million pieces.
I pull the picture back up and step up to show Dex. “I must say, the best picture of the day.”
Dex smiles at the photo then turns his head up to his son. “What do you think?”
“The best picture ever!” Miles cheers. “Callie always takes the best pictures.”
“Miles, you flatter me,” I joke as Dex places him back on the ground. I kneel next to him. “Thank you for helping me today. And listen, you did a really great job, but I’m about to take some pictures on the field and I need you to do me the biggest favor ever.”
Miles bounces up and down at the excitement, and I hate to burst his bubble, but I know I can’t risk him getting hurt.
“I’m going to need you to stay in the dugout with your dad, okay?”
“Oh,” Miles pouts. His lip hangs so low I fear he may trip on it.
“Hey, I promise there will be so many more times that you can help me, but this time I think your dad might actually need your help. Think you can keep the players in the dugout in order?”
Miles nods his head quickly. “I can do it.”
“That’s my boy.” I hold out my hand for a high five and he smacks it as hard as he can manage then bolts down the field.
