Page 7 of Home Field Advantage
They know me a little too well.
“I think this will be good for you,” Mitch says.
My chest feels tight, and I rub the ache away before taking another sip of my beer.
“I want to believe that, too.”
CHAPTER 2
I’M HERE FOR A FEW MONTHS.
Dallas
Bluestone Lakes is a sixteen-hour drive, and since I haven’t been sleeping the best anyway, I figure I’d push through the night so Sage could sleep for most of the trip. Initially, the plan was for April to fly into Cheyenne with Sage, and once I had things ready, I would come pick her up afterward, but Sage wanted no part of getting on a plane and preferred the idea of a road trip.
This whole thing still feels surreal, and I’m on the fence about being ready.
I thought the drive would help me understand this move and what’s led me to this point in my life, but it hasn’t. Instead, I find myself constantly questioning every rash decision I’ve made and my future. Specifically, if I even want to continue coaching. Baseball is the only thing I’ve ever known. It’s been the only constant in my life. I remember the first time I stepped onto a baseball field. The smell of freshly cut grass, the sound of the ball hitting the bat, and the adrenaline rush as the crowd cheered.
But what would my life look like without it?
Bluestone Lakes represents a new beginning, a chance to leave behind the uncertainties and disappointments that haveplagued me. And strangely, near the end of our long drive, I find myself looking forward to this new chapter in my life. An opportunity to embrace who I am without baseball.
My Tahoe slows when the welcome sign comes into view before me.
Welcome to Bluestone Lakes.
My eyes scan the space before me for the first time during this drive. It’s still early in the morning as the sun barely creeps over the horizon. Mountains in every direction nestle along the skyline without a cloud in sight. The urge to pull over and take it all in is strong, but I’m close to hopefully getting some coffee in my system and meeting this mystery woman who will hand me the keys to my rental.
Reaching behind me, I give Sage’s leg a little scratch to lightly wake her up. In the rearview mirror, I watch as her eyes open slowly, assessing her surroundings. My SUV jolts lightly when I hit a little crack in the one-lane highway.
“Are we there yet?” Sage asks groggily, rubbing her eyes and stretching her arms over her head. “Mr. Marshmallow and I are ready to be there.”
While most kids have one comfort item they cling to at a young age, Sage has two. She has a thin blanket that we used to swaddle her as a baby, which she calls a nanny, and a plush white bunny rabbit she calls Mr. Marshmallow. It’s not exactly the whitest in color anymore, as Mr. Marshmallow has seen better days, but it brings her comfort.
“We’re here.”
She sits up taller, looking out the window, and at the same time, we pass a ranch. Beautiful horses line the fence, sitting adjacent to the road. I keep the SUV slow so that she can get a good look at them. Watching intently in the mirror and keeping my eyes between her and the road, her face lights up with wonder. It makes me both emotional and happy because I love seeing her like this, and fucking hate that the feeling plagues methat I’ve missed out on watching her enjoy so many other wonders before this.
“There are so many horses, Daddy!”
“That is a lot, huh?”
“Is this where we’re staying? Can I ride a horse? I want to sit on top of that pretty white one. Looks like a princess.”
I chuckle from my seat. “We’re not staying on the ranch, bug. But this is the town we’re staying in. I’ll do some research and see if they offer rides, so we can check them out one day.”
“I hope they do,” she says, craning her neck to keep looking at the horses while I pass them. Then she faces forward again, kicking her legs up and down with happiness etched all over her face. “This is so fun already.”
I soak up every ounce of happiness she’s radiating, because, quite frankly, I’m nervous. Having Sage with me once a week is very different from having her full-time. The time she’s with me is usually packed with something fun and ditching her usual routine: ice cream trips, movie nights, or dinner at her favorite chain restaurants. It’s all fun and games. I’m not even sure I know what her day-to-day routine looks like now that she’s older than she was when I still lived with her.
“Do you think they have a liquid zoo here, too?”
I choke. “A what?”
“A liquid zoo. You know the places with all the sea creatures inside tanks for us to walk around and look at.”
“An aquarium?”
