Page 31 of Home Field Advantage
I should havelivedfor Sage.
Instead, Clark gave me a coaching position, and I lived for baseball again.
I chose that.
Tears threaten to spill over as Poplar Street comes into view.
But I don’t allow them to reach the surface.
I don’t ever allow my emotions to show, even alone.
“Yay! We’re home,” Sage shouts from the back seat.
Home feels like a foreign term. It hasn’t felt like home in our short time here in town. I keep telling myself it’s temporary, putting up that mental block so I don’t get attached.
This isn’t home.
But I don’t tell my daughter that.
“So, how was your day, Sage?” I ask eagerly, sliding a bowl of sliced oranges and strawberries across the table. With extra whipped cream, just the way she likes it. “Did you make any new friends?”
She throws her arms out wide. “All of them are my best friends now.”
I raise an eyebrow. “All of them, huh?”
“I don’t remember all their names, though,” she says, with a mouth full of fruit. “Just know they are all my bestest friends.”
I laugh. “Do you like your teacher?”
“I loooooove her, Daddy. So much. She put me at a desk right by her in case I had questions. I told the class my favorite snack, and we got to color! My favorite ever.” She beams, her eyes sparkling with the excitement of a new adventure.
“Wow. You love coloring.”
“Next to puzzles, it’s my fav. And guess what?” I raise a brow but let her continue. “Miss Barlow likes puzzles, too! She said she would bring me one she finished already for me to do here at home.”
“That’s very nice of her.”
She stabs a strawberry with her fork, swiping through the whipped cream. I can tell she’s excited because she keeps talking through her mouthfuls of food. “You know how I feel about puzzles.”
Tilting my head to the side, my stomach swirls because Idon’tknow. How do I not know this? I mean, I know she loves coloring and activity pages, but this is new information for me, and I fucking hate it.
“Remind me again?” I smile, hoping she doesn’t think I’m the worst dad.
“Relaxation time,” she says, drawing out the word to emphasize it. “Oh, and we also learned to stop, rock and roll.”
“Huh?”
“You know, that thing we need to do if there’s ever a fire.Stop, rock and roll.”
Shaking my head, I laugh. “You mean stop,drop,and roll?”
She shrugs nonchalantly. “Same thing.”
I’m about to ask more about her day because I’m alreadyloving this after-school time with her, but there’s a knock on my front door.
“I’ll get it,” Sage shouts, jumping off the chair and hustling for the door.
“Slow down, bug. We don’t know who it is.”
