Page 71 of Home Field Advantage
“Of course,” I choke out, clearing my throat. “Do you need help?”
“No. Besides, you don’t know how.” And with that, she skips off with the box in her arms.
My mouth hangs open in disbelief, and Poppy covers her mouth in a chuckle.
“I’m sorry for laughing. It was just so funny how she said that.”
An involuntary grin forms on my face.
“Sage likes you,” I say, even though that’s the last thing I want to say.
Poppy bites her bottom lip, and her cheeks pinken. “I like her too. You raised a really great kid.”
I wince and don’t bother hiding the guilt in my face with her words. Poppy notices, tipping her head to the side in question.
I’ve never openly talked to anyone about the guilt that eats me alive. I’ve never talked to anyone about how much it destroyed me when I lost baseball. I’ve never let anyone see the side of me I want to show Poppy right now. Not Tyler or Mitch. Not April. Not Clark. Taking the seat that Sage was sitting in, I lean forward on the table, bracing myself for the vulnerability I’m about to share with her.
“I wasn’t always there,” I admit. “April did all of that. I was a shit dad who put my baseball career before my family. I just?—”
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” she interrupts, reaching across the table and placing her small hand on top of mine. I don’t back away. Feeling her touch is all I want right now. “Whether you were there or not, she’s lucky to have you now.”
I swallow, letting the guilt settle in my gut. Letting the comforting words from Poppy ease the racing thoughts of how much I’ve fucked up in my past with Sage. But it also reminds me that the whole purpose of us being here is to fix that.
“Thank you for that, but there’s so much more to it.”
She’s silent this time.
“I know that you know I was the coach for the Major League team in San Francisco. The Staghorns.” She nods. “Well, prior to that, I played. I was the starting pitcher, and our team was so close to a championship game. I’ve had the goal to make it since I was young. I wanted all the titles. MVP. Rookie of the year. Hall of Fame. Baseball was my entire life.”
“Was?”
I huff a laugh. “I guess you can say it still is. But I was in a car accident.” I swallow, feeling more vulnerable than I ever have. “I ended up hurting my shoulder, and it was enough to end my baseball career.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You’re killing me.” I groan while letting my head fall back.
She laughs, forcing my head to snap up. There it is. The sound I’ve been desperate to hear again.
I neededthat.
“To be fair, that’s a valid answer when someone tells you about a thing that was taken from them,” Poppy says defensively. “While I do say sorry often out of fear of disappointing people, I feel this time was justified.”
I nod, wanting to dig deeper into the meaning of her words, but not wanting to pry.
“Well, you’re not the one who chose to get in the car with someone who definitely shouldn’t have been driving.”
Her eyes widen.
“Yeah, it’s not one of the most intelligent decisions I’ve made.”
The memory of the night creeps in every so often, like it is right now.
“I knew it wasn’t smart to get in the car with the guy. He was a good friend of my teammate, Mitch, and even he was skeptical. But the guy assured us he was fine. Standing steady on his feet, claimed only to have two beers and was good to drive us a few blocks home.”
“But he wasn’t fine.”
I shake my head. “He ran a red light, and another car slammed into the side of the car I was in. I knew then, with the pain radiating through my shoulder, that I was fucked. But it could have been a lot worse if the other car hadn’t tried to slam on their brakes before impact.”
