Page 17 of Sawyer
“No.I mean, at school and with his friends, yes, and he’s always throwing balls at home, but first time on a team.”I pray he hits the ball, but I’m unsure given the size of the pitcher if he’ll make contact.I swallow past a lump in my throat, not expecting to be this nervous.I’m starting to understand how parents get a little crazy on the sidelines at sports sometimes.I already need to take a deep breath.
“He’s fine.He’s got this,” Sawyer says quietly and stands a little closer.His eyes are warm and watching me like a hawk.He’s offering me his silent support, and I feel a little lightheaded.It’s not that I don’t have men around me; I just don’t have them around me like this.And Sawyer makes me nervous, but not in a bad way.In a way I’m just not used to.I give him a small nod, still praying Kevin makes the hit.
“Here we go,” Hudson says, and I squeeze Noah's hands tight, holding my breath as I watch.
The pitcher throws the ball, and it’s even faster, moving straight past Kevin and hitting the gloves of the backstop with a thud.I blow out my breath as a few parents clap.
“Oh God, I think I’m going to throw up.”
Sawyer looks at me, a little panicked, before I smile and he relaxes.
“Breathe and enjoy the moment.No matter the outcome, they’ll always remember that you were here, believing in them.”Something about his words makes me think he has firsthand experience.His shoulder nudges mine, the movement catching me a little off guard, but I can’t help smiling before we both look back in time for the next pitch, which follows the first, straight into the gloves of the backstop.
“You’ve got this Kevin!”Sawyer claps like many of the other parents around us, and I inhale sharply.Kevin looks around at us in confusion, watching Sawyer, me, and Hudson, and we all clap for him before he nods to me and then turns back to focus.Determination runs through his bones, and I see it set on his little face.
I hold my breath and squeeze Noah's hand so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t yelp as the next pitch is thrown, and it connects.Kevin hits it and hits it well.So well, he stands there in shock for a moment.
“Run!”Sawyer shouts his encouragement, and Kevin drops the bat and runs to first base as Harvey sprints to second.
“Keep going!”Hudson calls out, and the two of them keep running as my heart pounds and I feel my eyes water a little.
“Home!Run home!”Sawyer shouts again as all the kids on his team are jumping up and down, the parents all clapping and cheering.Both Harvey and Kevin run straight home and into the arms of their teammates.
“Well, looks like he has some natural talent.”Hudson grins at me before he talks to a parent on his other side.I take a deep breath and compose myself, pride, happiness, and gratitude filling me as I watch my son celebrate with his friends.
“See, I told you he had it.”I look up at Sawyer and see him smiling too.He’s standing so close, I smell his cologne.Masculine, fresh, the kind that makes me a little weak at the knees.God, it’s been a long time since I’ve smelled anything like that.
“Yeah, he did good.”I’m filled with relief now that he has the first hit out of the way.
“So did you.”He smiles.He looks good with a smile.His teeth are blinding, but he has kind eyes, and the way he looks at me warms me.
“Sorry, it’s all a bit new and overwhelming.”I try to compose myself as my emotions run rampant at seeing my little boy enjoy the game he’s wanted to play for years but never could.Sawyer looks at me in that assessing way he does, although this time, he holds something more akin to admiration in his gaze.
“Don’t apologize, Mama,” he says, low and deep, and I think I forget to breathe.I bite the inside of my lip, needing to close my mouth so I don’t gape at him.
“I used to love it when my mom came to watch me play baseball as a kid.”
I tilt my head to look at him.He’s opening up, talking more, and I wonder what Rochelle put in his coffee this morning.Maybe Daisy has some type of special tincture that’s used at the diner to ensure their customers are always happy or something.
“You used to play?”I ask, not seeing it.I’m assuming he grew up wealthy, probably went to private school, had a chauffeur and all that.
“Played all through school.It was my sport of choice, until I got a bit older and concentrated on my studies for law school.”
“Harvard?”I guess, because that’s where all the rich kids go, isn’t it?
“No.CUNY.Got a scholarship,” he says quickly before looking back at the game while I stare at him, open-mouthed.CUNY is a good school, but not where I thought a rich kid like Sawyer would ever go.
“Smart as well as sporty, then?”I say playfully.
He looks back at me with a little grin on his lips.I like this.Talking, getting to know someone new, someone who doesn’t look at me with pity.
“What about you?Did you play sports?”
“Not really.I was more into art and literature.I love having my head stuck in a book or sketching something.”I grew up here in Whispers, and if you didn’t play sports, there wasn’t really too much else to do as a kid.Probably why I gravitated to making soap so well.
“Sketching?”
“Yeah.Just objects, plants, the kids…” I shrug.I feel a little embarrassed, no longer having time for hobbies, yet the pencil and small drawing pad sit untouched at home, where I know one day I will get back into it.
