7. CHAPTER 7
“Ihave an idea,” I said as I put another ball on a tee. Easton smacked it into the net, the sound bouncing against the shed in our backyard.
“What’s that?” he asked.
Sweat stung my eyes from hitting for the last two hours. I took a breath before asking the question I’d been thinking about for the last couple of days. “Why don’t we take Gavin to his tournament this weekend instead of my parents?”
Easton swung again before responding; I stared at the ground, playing with the dirt while I waited for a response. “Good idea. Where’s it at?”
“About two hours away. We’d leave Friday morning and, if they play well, get back late on Sunday night.”
“Is Zach or Ricky going?”
“I don’t think so. Zach has football practice. Ricky doesn’t like watching baseball. Honestly, I don’t know how we're friends.”
“Cool. Just the two of us, then. I’d have to ask my grandparents, but they’re happy when I’m out of the house.”
He went back into his stance, itching for me to feed him another ball. He’d said “just the two of us” as if it was nothing, like it wasn’t the reason I was asking him to come on the trip.
We swung for another ten minutes before the sound of a car and the laughs of a thirteen-year-old broke us up.
Gavin half walked, half jogged around the corner. His yellow uniform was still on, the shirttail untucked in front; his red Crocs clashed with the rest of his uniform.
“Easton!” Gavin said as soon as he saw us. “I threw two runners out at my game tonight.”
“You’d think they’d know by now not to try to steal on you,” Easton said.
“They didn’t. I picked one guy off first and another off third.” Gavin beamed with pride.
"Good for you, Gav,” Easton said. “Any passed balls?”
“Not one,” Gavin said.
“Nice, dude,” Easton said. “I bet you start next year in high school. Ricky graduates, so you’ll have a shot.”
“I hope so. When are you going to come see me play? You’ve never been to any of my games.”
Easton looked at me, his eyebrows raised.
“Let’s go talk to Mom and Dad,” I said. “Maybe we can make it happen this weekend.”
The two of them followed me inside. Gavin bounced on his toes, trying to figure out what I meant.
When we got to the living room, Dad was in his chair with the Cardinals game on; Mom scratched through a sudoku puzzle on the couch.
“So, Mom. Dad.” I tried to sound casual, like this was no big deal. Like I hadn’t rehearsed every word for days. "How would you guys feel about skipping baseball this weekend?"
“That doesn’t sound like much fun,” Mom said. I'd clearly misread the situation.
I opened my mouth to continue my speech, and it came out all at once, like I’d tripped over the first word and landed in the last sentence. “Oh. Well, I think you should skip Gavin’s tournament this weekend and let Easton and me take him.”
“YES!” Gavin said, jumping in the air.
“Not going to happen!” Mom said at the same time. “I’m not letting you two make a two-hour drive by yourselves."
“We’ve driven to tournaments without you guys,” I pleaded.
“And there are always parents to chaperone you,” Mom said.
“Coach Messina will be there and I’m going to be eighteen in May. I can watch over Gavin for three days.”
“What if something happens? We can’t make Mark responsible for two extra people. That’s not fair to him when he’s trying to coach a team.”
“PLEASE!” Gavin begged.
“Honey, dear, lovely,” my dad said. “Could we talk about this for a second in the other room?”
“There’s not much to talk about,” Mom said, but she got up and walked into the kitchen with Dad following behind her. He glanced back and raised his shoulders and eyebrows, letting us know he had no idea how this would go.
“This would be awesome,” Gavin said. He swung an imaginary bat and ran around the room as if he had hit a home run. I glanced at Easton, and we smiled at how excited Gavin was at the mere suggestion of the idea.
Ten minutes later, my parents reentered the room. When Mom sat in her chair and picked up her sudoku, I knew Dad had won the discussion.
“Gavin, can you leave the room?” Dad said.
Gavin looked at me, and I flipped my wrist away to get him to go.
“Tanner, your mother and I talked about this,” Dad started again.
A cough came from Mom’s direction, but she said nothing.
“If, and this is a big if, we allow you to take Gavin, we are putting a lot of trust in you. You’re responsible for Gavin.
If anything happens to him, it’ll be three times worse for you.
You cannot rely on Coach Messina all weekend. ”
My chest tightened. It sounded like faith. Maybe a test. Both?
“When they need to be at a game, you need to be there early. You need to make sure he eats, especially between games, and that you always have enough Gatorade. He needs to sleep. You are in charge and need to act like an adult.”
I nodded calmly, even though my palms were sweating and my foot wouldn’t stop tapping against the carpet.
“Absolutely. I’ve learned from Mom all these years,” I said. A little flattery couldn’t hurt.
Dad smirked at me and turned to Easton. “As for you, I need to know I can trust you with my son. You’ve made a big impression on Gavin.
He’ll follow your lead more than Tanner.
I don’t care that you are only sixteen—you need to act as if he were your own brother.
Screw this up, and you won’t be around any of my kids again. ”
“I already see Gavin as my little brother, Mr. Quinn.”
Well, I’ll be damned. He nailed that answer.
Dad smiled. He looked at Mom, who nodded stiffly. Then he said, “You’re good to go. I’ll—”
Gavin interrupted, “YES, SIR!” He leapt into the room, his right Croc flying off his foot and nearly hitting me in the face.
“Is anyone surprised he was listening the whole time?” I said, laughing at the little fool. He was dancing as if to music only he could hear. But I thought I heard it, too.
“Gavin, you need to listen. These two are in charge in the same way Mom and I would be. Got it?”
“I’ll do everything they say,” Gavin said.
“I’ve got to call Mark as well. He’ll have to check you guys in,” Dad said, following Mom out of the living room.
After they had left the room, Gavin turned to Easton. “Did you really mean that?”
“Mean what?”
“That you look at me like a brother.”
“Yeah, man.”
I watched them fist bump, and then Gavin ran out of the room trying not to smile.
My heart did that annoying thing again—tightening, expanding, breaking a little. Easton had no idea what he was doing to me.