Epilogue
Hallie—One Year Later
The best thing to hold onto in life is each other.
~ Audrey Hepburn
The stands are crowded for a Little League game.
And beyond our seats in the bleachers, around the edges of the field, parents and people from all over Waterford have set up lawn chairs, canopies and sun shades.
The smell of barbecue fills the air. The sound of the crowd cheering carries out into the park.
It’s the perfect spring day and I’m surrounded by my crew and family, all here to cheer on Greyson and Mia.
We made it to the championships for the second year in a row. And Mia’s hit a home run every time she’s been at bat. This is her second and last year being coached by Greyson—the final game of an era in her life, and his.
The Sparkly Llamacorn is running back and forth in front of us with both her hands low in front of her thighs.
She raises them up then she moves to the next section of fans and lowers her hands, raising them again.
We all stand and sit like she’s our choir director, doing the wave and shouting “Go Sparkly Llamacorns!” until our throats are raspy.
It’s the fifth inning and the Llamacorns are ahead by two runs.
We’re playing the Cumberland Catfish. Their mascot is a guy with a fish on his head.
It’s not an actual fish, but his whole head is a fish with eyes on either side and a wide open mouth.
It’s extremely realistic. From the shoulders down, he’s wearing a Bass Pro Shops T-shirt and jeans.
Dustin leans over across Emberleigh and pats my knee. “Our mascot could take theirs in a fight.”
“Dustin!” Emberleigh says in a shocked voice. But she’s stifling a laugh.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I say.
“I should’ve brought my fishing pole,” Dustin says with a chuckle.
Emberleigh slaps his leg. “Behave, honey.”
Patrick sticks his head around Dustin to join the conversation. “When have you known Dustin to behave?”
Emberleigh smiles. “Never, honestly.”
Dustin kisses her cheek. “You wouldn’t want the tame version of me.”
The next Catfish comes up to bat.
Mom leans over from the other side of me so she can see past Avery. She and Jonathan are sitting side-by-side, holding hands.
“Would y’all shush and focus?” Mom says in her I mean business voice. “I’m tryin’ to watch my granddaughter win a ball game.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dustin says to Mom.
Then he starts in, taunting the Catfish who’s up to bat. “Ayyyy battah, battah, battah … suh-wing!”
“Dustin!” Emberleigh whisper-scolds.
The coach throws the pitch and the girl swings and misses.
He throws again, and she gets her second strike.
On the last throw, she hits the ball. It arcs straight toward Mia, who’s playing shortstop.
Mia’s focus hones in like a laser on the ball.
She positions herself, raises her glove and catches the ball.
“That’s three outs!” the umpire calls. “And that’s the game!”
“Wait,” Dustin shouts. “I thought this went six innings!”
“Not if we’re already ahead,” I say before I jump to my feet, throwing both fists in the air and shouting, “We won!”
Avery turns to me, placing her hands on my shoulders. “We won! We won!”
“We won?” Dustin asks. Then he leans down and places his mouth near Emberleigh’s belly and shouts, “We won! That’s gonna be you one day, little baby Reed.”
Emberleigh laughs, placing her hand on her belly and ruffling Dustin’s hair with the other hand.
I start to make my way down the stands, weaving between cheering families and the other baseball moms as I make my way toward Greyson on the field.
Everyone’s going nuts. The Llamacorn players are jumping around, hugging one another while Coach Will does his best to get them to line up to give the Catfish high fives.
I stand off to the side of the field, watching the players go through the motions, passing one another saying, “Good game” and “Congratulations” until the last two players smack hands and the teams disperse in a giddy rush.
Greyson’s eyes land on mine. I smile over at him and silently mouth the words, “Congratulations, Coach G.”
He smiles back, oblivious to the Llamacorn players who are each grabbing bags of sparkly glitter and tinsel we prepared earlier this week and stashed in a nook at the side of the dugout. Will walks up behind Greyson, holding the cooler of Gatorade.
I hold Greyson’s gaze, saying, “Sorry,” just as Will counts to three and dumps the entire cooler over Greyson’s head. The girls follow that neon shower, throwing a flurry of sparkling confetti. It sticks to the Gatorade, making Greyson look like he was tarred and feathered by a Christmas elf.
His eyes go wide and he bursts into laughter and shouts, “You got me!”
The girls jump up and down, squealing. “We got you, Coach G!” and “We won!” and “The Llamacorns are the champions!”
Greyson gives out high fives and fist bumps. I grab the towel I stowed in my bag and hold it out to him when he gets close enough.
“Celebration kiss?” he asks me, leaning closer.
“Not like that, you don’t,” I say, laughing and pulling back.
“Come on, Hallie,” he says, moving in my direction.
I wave the towel as a buffer and he grabs it out of my hand.
He runs the towel over his face and shakes his head. “I’m going to clean up. A towel isn’t going to cut it. I’ll meet you for the celebration at Mo’s.”
“Are you sure Mo’s ready for the Llamacorns to overtake his diner?” I ask.
“I’m sure. I gave him a heads-up this week.”
He smiles, and something practically twinkles in his eyes. Maybe he’s just excited about Mo being a part of our victory celebration.
It’s been over a year since Greyson and I started dating, and we still sneak away to Mo’s for breakfast at least once a week. We’ve brought Mia there too a couple times.
“I’ll see you there,” Greyson says, leaning in and placing a sticky kiss to my cheek.
Mia runs over to us, looking up at Greyson and laughing. “We got you good.”
“You sure did,” he says.
“Were you surprised?”
“I was! I didn’t see it coming.”
Mia smiles and then her face falls slightly. “I can’t believe that’s the last game you’ll be my coach.”
Greyson looks down at her, and then he squats so he’s at her level. “I’ve been thinking …”
“What?” Mia asks.
“Maybe I’ll move up to the minors next year.” Greyson glances up at me.
“Really?” Mia squeals and wraps her arms around Greyson. Then she leans back and looks him in the eyes. “No pressure.”
She steps away from Greyson, looking down at her jersey which now has fragments of tinsel and glitter stuck to it. Pieces of confetti are in her hair too.
Greyson chuckles. “I just thought … some of my best players are advancing. I might want to advance with them.”
“Like me?” Mia asks, an unusual shyness in her words.
“Like you,” Greyson says, ruffling Mia’s hair.
He stands up and asks me, “What do you think?”
“I think that would be a loss to the seven and eight-year-olds.”
He nods.
“But it would be amazing if you were with Mia another year or two.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” he says, looking down at Mia and smiling.
“Yay!” Mia shouts, as if the decision’s final. And, I guess it is, because Greyson says, “I’ll just let the league know.”
“Well, I’d better go get cleaned up,” Greyson says.
“See you later, Coach G!” Mia says. Then she looks up at me, “Are you ready to go, Mommy?”
“Didn’t you want to stay and run around with your teammates?”
“No. I want to go,” she says, bouncing from side to side.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Fine. Just … Let’s go.”
Mia’s not usually in a rush to go, especially not when there are other children around. I almost ask her if she’s okay again. But then she looks up at me with a giant smile, so I drop it. Besides, I’m tired, so going home sounds just right.
“Okay,” I say, glancing around for Mom and Avery. I wave to them and walk over toward the spot where they’re standing around chatting with a few other parents and Mrs. Kinkaid.
I turn to watch Greyson walk toward his Jeep.
Players and families stop him and he pauses for each one, talking and smiling and saying something to the player that brings out a smile.
I grin to myself, a warmth filling my chest. Even after over a year of dating Greyson, he’s still able to make me practically lightheaded.
Despite Mia’s seeming urgency to leave, she runs off, shouting, “Whitney! Whitney!” Her friend turns and they start talking.
“That’s one good man,” Mom says, walking up beside me with Jonathan right behind her.
She stares off toward Greyson, where he’s smiling down at yet another player.
“He is,” I say with a sigh. “So good.”
I yawn and Avery asks, “Are you okay?”
“I’m just tired from the calls we went on overnight last night. I think Mia and I will head home so she can clean up. She hugged Greyson and got all sticky and glittery.”
Avery laughs. “Well, don’t take too long at home. We’ve got the thing at Mo’s.”
I glance around for Mia. She’s saying goodbye to Whitney, waving and running back in my direction.
“Ready, Mommy?”
“I’m ready,” I say.
Mia’s eyebrows lift and she tucks her lips in. “We need to go. Okay?”
She’s acting odd. Maybe it’s the win?
We gather her glove and equipment and load up the van. Back at home, I send her straight to the bathroom. She sheds her sticky, glittery uniform and hops into the shower while I collapse on the couch. Last night was long. And we got up early for the game. I’m beat.
When Mia’s showered and dressed, she comes out to the living room where I’m flat on my back, a throw pillow under my head and my eyes shut.
“Mommy! Did you fall asleep?” Her voice rises with a note of panic.
“Not asleep,” I tell her. “Just dozing.”
“But you have to take me to Mo’s! My team will be there celebrating and it’s very, very important.”
I yawn and sit up. “What if Aunt Avery takes you and I just take a quick nap and meet you over there? That way you can get there on time.”
Mia’s brows draw in with a look of concern.