Chapter 4 Hunter #2
“He’ll be really happy to see you.” She smiled up at me, squinting slightly in the sun. “Want to sit?” She patted the spot next to her.
I couldn’t sit down fast enough. “I brought banana bread. From Margaret.”
“That was nice of her,” Seraphina said.
Vance reached over to shake my hand. “Nice to see you.”
“Same. Thanks for letting me crash your group.” I leaned over to get a better look at baby Leo, asleep in his mother’s arms. “What a beauty.”
Gillian beamed. “Isn’t he though? My little lion.”
“Are you well?” I asked her.
“Tired, but yes, I’m doing great,” Gillian said.
“I told her not to come,” Seraphina said. “But she didn’t listen.”
“I’m fine,” Gillian said. “And I want to be here for the boys. First game of the season’s a big deal. For Alex too.”
I nodded toward Delphine, who sat on the other side of Vance. She gave me a polite smile. I was never sure if she liked me or not.
The teenage girls all said hello. Madison, in her usual exuberance, said, “Hi, Hunter. Do you want to pet Trevor?”
“Hey, ladies,” I said. “And yes, I’d be honored to pet Trevor.” I twisted slightly to give him a good scratch behind the ears. He lifted his tail for a few thumps, before closing his eyes again.
“Do you like dogs?” Madison asked.
“I adore them,” I said.
“Why don’t you have one, then?” Madison asked.
“I never thought I’d be home enough, and I didn’t want him or her to be lonely,” I said.
“Where’s your home?” Madison asked.
“It used to be Nashville, but now it’s here,” I said.
“Good. Because we all want you to stay,” Madison said.
Robbie, who had his head in a book, looked up to greet me. “Hello, Hunter. Are you a baseball fan?”
“I like baseball,” I said. “Plus, I’m a Tyler fan, so here I am.”
“My brother Peter’s on the team too,” Bella said. “He and Tyler are the best players.”
“Can’t wait to see them do their thing,” I said.
“Does anyone want a slice of banana bread?” Lila asked. “I heard Hunter say that Margaret made it. And, look, she cut it into pieces for us.”
Everyone but Grace wanted some. Lila held it out for everyone to take a slice. Robbie leaned closer, examining it like a doctor with a problematic patient. “Nuts,” he said. “No, thank you.”
“Do you not like nuts?” I asked.
“I do not,” Robbie said. “They ruin many a good dessert.”
“He’s a picky eater,” Madison said cheerfully. “But I’m not. Trevor isn’t either.”
“No bread for Trevor,” Lila said.
“But he loves bread,” Madison said, sounding sad.
“Nuts are toxic to dogs,” Robbie said. “We must remain diligent or he’ll try and steal a piece. Trevor’s smarter than he looks, and he’s food oriented above all else.”
“Not all else,” Madison said. “He loves me the most of anything or anyone.”
Robbie acknowledged that with a brief nod. “Lila, is there anything else to eat? For nut haters such as myself.”
Lila nodded, reaching for a picnic basket. “I brought fruit and some cut up vegetables and tiny quiches I whipped up last night.”
Delphine shook her head. “Lila, you’re a wonder.”
For the next few minutes, everyone helped themselves to food, chattering away. I’d just grabbed a bunch of grapes and turned back toward the field when Tyler saw me. He took off his cap, grinning, and waved to me. I waved back.
“He’s thrilled you’re here.” Seraphina’s green eyes softened. “It’s nice of you to come.”
“I can think of worse ways to spend an evening,” I said.
The game got underway with Peter on the mound, his warm-up pitches crisp and controlled. I could see Alex watching from the dugout, relaxed and supportive.
“Peter’s been pitching since he was eight,” Gillian said to me. “Baseball’s his great love. He and his dad share that. But I’m a nervous wreck at every game. Sports is new to me. Although, my Grace has been in a thousand plays, and that makes me nervous too.”
“Motherhood,” Seraphina said. “Not for sissies.”
Tyler was at shortstop, cap pulled low.
“Shortstop’s no joke,” I said. “He must be good.”
“He loves it. That’s all that matters to me,” Seraphina said. “He gets his physical gifts from my dad. Not me.”
“Did he play ball?” I asked. “Your dad.”
“In high school, he played baseball and ran track,” Seraphina said. “When he became a teacher, he started coaching. It’s funny how many baseball games I’ve been to in my lifetime. Tyler begged me to let him play tee-ball when he was only five years old. It’s been a blur of games ever since.”
“It’s good you can be at his games,” I said. “And that work doesn’t keep you away.”
“I’m here for most of them,” Seraphina said. “But I miss some because of work. I always feel guilty about it.”
“I’m sure he understands,” I said.
“Actually, he does. He always says—Mom, your work makes it possible for me to do sports and pretty much anything else I want, so don’t be sorry.”
“He’s generous,” I said.
“Like my dad,” Seraphina said. “Some people are almost too good for this world.”
In the second inning, Tyler ranged far to his left on a hard grounder up the middle, backhanded it cleanly, and fired across his body to first—a play that drew a sharp gasp from the parents around us before the first baseman squeezed it.
I leaned forward, completely pulled into the game.
Peter struck out the side in the third, each batter heading back to the dugout with a dazed look, like they weren’t quite sure what they’d just faced. Tyler came up to bat in the fourth inning with two men on base and one out. The first pitch was a fastball on the outside corner that he let go.
“Good restraint,” Seraphina said under her breath.
The second pitch came in high and he laid off that one too.
“He’s patient for a kid,” I said. “Very mature.”
“Yes, it’s one of his strengths,” Seraphina said. “The coach has mentioned it to me a few times.”
The third pitch came in belt-high over the middle of the plate and Tyler turned on it.
His crack of the bat was solid and clean. The ball went hard into the gap between left and center, and both runners were moving before it landed. Tyler was out of the box fast, rounding first without breaking stride, pushing for second, sliding in ahead of the throw in a cloud of dust.
Two runs scored.
I was on my feet. So was everyone in the home stands. For a second, I thought about how good it felt to be part of something. Cheering for our hometown kids.
“This is fun,” I said, gently bumping Seraphina’s shoulder with my own. “I’m really glad Tyler invited me.”
“I’m glad you could come,” Seraphina said, leaning closer to speak only to me. “I hope you didn’t feel pressured.”
“No way. I’m honored to be part of the gang,” I said. “And that he’d even think to ask.”
“He never says too much about it, but I know he wishes he had a dad.” I sighed. “One of many things I feel guilty about.”
“You shouldn’t. He has a great life, and that’s because of you.”
Tyler was taking his lead off second, watching the pitcher.
The game stayed close through the sixth, Willet Cove up by two, with the other team threatening in the seventh. Tyler made a running catch on a ball hit up the middle in the sixth that ended the inning and brought the bleachers up again.”
Willet Cove held on to win, five to three. Peter finished what he started, striking out the final batter on a two-two count to close out the game. Alex, coaching from third base, turned toward the dugout with both fists raised in triumph.
Tyler jogged in from shortstop at the final out, his cap pushed back and his uniform streaked with dirt. Just like it should be. Seconds later, he bounded toward the bleachers.
“You did good,” Madison shouted to him when he arrived.
“Thanks, kiddo,” Tyler said.
There were congratulations and fist bumps before the group began gathering their things.
Vance folding a blanket, the kids already dispersing toward the parking lot in small clusters.
Alex had come up from the field and now had Leo in his car seat.
Seraphina excused herself, saying she’d be right back, then headed toward the restrooms, leaving me alone with Tyler.
Tyler turned to me. “What’d you think?” He was trying to sound casual but wasn’t quite pulling it off. Be careful of his heart, I reminded myself. He might look mostly grown, and he was wise beyond his years, but he was also a vulnerable kid who could be crushed by careless words.
“I think you’re pretty awesome,” I said. “Thanks for inviting me.”
He ducked his head, but not before I caught the grin he was trying to contain. “I’m glad you came.”
“When’s the next one?” I asked.
“Next Thursday evening,” Tyler said. “Do you have to work that day?”
“I usually do, but maybe I can get it covered.” I glanced at Seraphina who stopped to chat with Delphine on her way to the restroom. I lowered my voice. “In fact, I have a surprise for your mom. Ivy James is coming to hang out with me next week. Maybe write some songs together.”
“No way. Can Mom meet her?”
“I’ll arrange it. Maybe a little concert at Wes and Margaret’s, just for her?”
“She would lose her mind.” He tilted his head, his expression suddenly wary. “You and Ivy aren’t, like, more than friends, right?”
“Me and Ivy? We’re like siblings,” I said. “You’ll see.”
He let out what sounded like a sigh of relief. “Okay, cool. You want to go to pizza with my mom and me right now?”
“Should we ask your mom first?”
“She’ll say yes. We sometimes go for pizza after my games.”
“Sure, I’d like to—if it’s okay with your mom.”
We headed down the bleachers, waiting for Seraphina outside the bathroom, talking about the game. A few minutes later, she came out, her eyebrows raising when she saw Tyler and me.
“Mom, Hunter and I want to go for pizza,” Tyler said. “I’m so hungry.”
“A common occurrence these days,” Seraphina said. “Let’s do it. Marco’s okay with you?”
“Fine with me,” I said.
“We’ll meet you there in a few then.”
The three of us set out for the parking lot, still talking about the game. It was way too easy to spend time with these two and could quickly become a hard habit to break. But maybe I didn’t want to. Hopefully they didn’t either.