Page 141 of Home Field Advantage
“And she doesn’t want to go back?”
I shake my head. “Her words were ‘I wouldn’t be mad, just sad,’ and it breaks my heart because I don’t know what to do about anything.” I feel my voice growing louder with every word, angry that I can’t make a decision as easily as I used to. “I don’t fucking know what to do about all this.”
April pauses, eyes wide at my tone, before her features soften and a lopsided grin forms on her face. “You’ve changed.”
I narrow my eyes, tilting my head to the side, figuring out what she means.
“For once in your life, you can’t make a decision. You’re actually thinking things through without jumping the gun.”
I nod, my chest feeling tight.
“Talk through it with me,” she continues. “Where is your head at? Is it because of Poppy?”
Things with Poppy have only grown over the months I’ve been here—it’s easy. Steady. It’s shifted from casual to something I look forward to. Even the quiet nights together of watching herand Sage work on a puzzle, their fingers turning puzzle pieces in their hand while we all talked about our day.
It’s a normalcy I didn’t realize I craved, or how she slips into my arms without needing to be asked. She’s become part of my everyday routine, something to look forward to.
She’s given me a reason to want to be better.
And that’s something I didn’t see coming, but I’m glad it did.
“She’s part of it,” I admit. “I told myself I wasn’t going to form attachments while I was there. But I think I formed an attachment to the town. Bluestone Lakes has a charm to it that I can’t explain, and it sucks you in—makes you feel a part of it even if you’re technically not.”
She nods repeatedly in understanding.
“I can’t lie to you, I’ve made a few rash decisions since staying there, like coaching the kids’ baseball team that didn’t exist before I got there, and then rebuilding the barnyard.”
“The barnyard?”
I smile, thinking about where it started versus today. “It’s what a few of the kids used as a makeshift field. The kids had cardboard boxes as bases and a bench that looked like they picked it from the trash. I rebuilt it for them. It’s not much, but it’s enough to spark their joy for baseball even more.”
And mine.
The realization slams into me that not only did the field sparktheirjoy, but mine, too. Coaching a professional team wasn’t what I ever planned, and I think I held a lot of resentment toward it because I wanted to play. There’s a new feeling associated with coaching the kids and building a foundation for them to love the game and continue playing.
I think of Austin and Archie, and how they remind me so much of myself.
If they continue to work hard, they can undoubtedly make it to a professional team in the future.
“It helped me fall in love with the game again, too,” I add, not even realizing that I’m smiling.
“I guess before you head back, we should talk about some things,” she says, voice trailing off as she looks away from me. I say nothing, letting her continue. “I wasn’t sure where your head was at before this conversation, and obviously, Sage is the determining factor for everything I do.”
“For me too.”
Her lips twist into a soft smile, as if she’s been waiting for me to put Sage first all her life. Never again will I put her after anything. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. You already know I’ve met someone and got this job opportunity.” I nod, remembering the conversation. “Well, this idea came to mind about possibly opening a practice. Closer to Bluestone Lakes in case you decided you wanted to stay.”
“You can do that? Open your own?”
“Well, it wouldn’t fully be my own,” she says with a smile, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “My boyfriend. He’s supportive of whatever decision you and I make regarding Sage. He said if we decide to stay, we need to be closer to Sage to make it work for everyone in her life. And besides, we checked things out and Bluestone Lakes has nothing less than thirty minutes away.”
This…is so unexpected.
My brain is swimming with this information as I take it all in.
“You mean…we can stay here?”
She nods. “I think ifwe”—she tosses her finger between her and me—“decide this is something permanent, I don’t want to keep up this travel in the city. If it’s something we both want to do, then I say we stay. But I’ll be moving closer to Bluestone Lakes, and I’ll commute if we struggle to find somewhere closer to open something. I’d rather commute than be this far away from Sage longer than I have been.”
