40. Chapter 39
Raegan - The Present
I would say that married life is bliss… But that would be a lie.
It’s hard. It’s so hard. Squeezing everything we have into our tiny apartment over the café?
I cover my face with my palms just thinking about it.
It’s a cluttered mess. And it’s not even all of our things.
We have quite a bit stored in one of my parent’s barns. And speaking of my parents…
They’re helpful. They’re wise and knowledgeable.
They watch Grace so Austin and I can go on dates.
They’ve supported me while I attend classes for my degree.
Mom is always there when I need help with the café, she’s there to help when Austin is on the road with away games. I couldn’t do this without them.
Which is why I’m sitting in their living room crying on the couch.
I feel stretched thin, between caring for Grace, the café, schooling, and trying to be a good wife.
I’m exhausted. I even took a pregnancy test, but it was negative.
Before we got married we both decided that babies are a blessing, so we’re not trying, but we’re not preventing.
I even quit tracking everything so that I had less things to worry about.
And seeing as how we are still newly weds…
well, pregnancy is always a possibility.
I was actually disappointed to see the not pregnant pop up on the screen.
There’s no way I’m ready for another baby. Not right now, but here I sit crying partly because of a negative pregnancy test. And well, because of everything else going on in my life.
They call it the terrible twos ? Yeah… Grace is the ringleader of the terrible twos.
If an object can be thrown, she’s throwing it.
And maybe that’s just because her dad is a baseball player…
but every toy we own has been chucked across the living room.
And it’s a small living room, which makes things worse.
And don’t get me started on potty training.
My life is an endless pile of soiled laundry.
I finally gave up on potty training just the other day.
And of course as soon as I gave up Grace started showing interest in it. Oy vey.
“I’m going to need a new tissue box at the rate you’re going through that one.” Mom chuckles beside me. I pull the snotty, tear-filled tissue from my face and give her some puppy dog eyes.
“Would you prefer I do it Grace style?” I groan. “I could use my sleeve. Then I could use yours. And then maybe a couch pillow or two.” I’ve had to wash snot off my couch cushions. I’m pretty sure there’s some in the living room curtains too.
“We could just find some old bandanas and pin them to her. Maybe that would help. While we’re doing it for her, I could do it for you, too.” Mom winks. She knows how to lighten the mood.
“Am I doing too much?” I lean my head back and stare at the ceiling. Eyeing the cracks in the exposed beams. I haven’t told anyone that I’m planning to drop out of school. I would love to have the degree, but I think it’s just too much right now.
“Well, are we talking emotionally or physically?”
Physically, I think I’m fine. Other than constantly wondering if I’m pregnant when I reach day twenty-eight in my cycle.
“I guess emotionally.” I look over at Mom, her face is radiant.
She never looks tired. But somehow she’s doing everything.
Raising twins, being a ranch wife, gardening, helping me at the café, being an amazing grandma. How does she do it all?
“Are you asking because you have specific changes you’re thinking of making, or are you asking because you want help identifying the changes that might help remove some of your burdens?”
“I don’t even know,” I tell her. Should I quit school?
Should I quit the café and school and move out towards Fort Worth so that we can be a real family?
Then what happens if he ends up being traded?
Just the other day Josh was traded to Philadelphia and called up.
I can’t even imagine what his wife is going through.
“Have you prayed about it? And have you talked it over with Austin? And,” she switches her voice to a whisper, “could you be pregnant?”
My cheeks color. “No, and believe me I checked.” I cover my face and shake my head. I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but I am. Mom is my best friend, and we’ve discussed everything before. I guess it just feels different now. I’m all grown up. I’ve moved out and I’m married.
“Okay, so that’s one question answered. Now, what about the other two? God knows how overwhelmed you are, but have you talked to Him about it?”
I nod, but it’s a small nod. I have prayed about it, as in, I’ve brought it up when I’m overwhelmed. But I haven’t taken the time to just sit down and pour it out to God, and wait for the Holy Spirit to give me some insight.
Mom eyes me like she knows that so far it’s just been popcorn prayers.
“I know it’s hard finding the time for prayer, and for Bible study, but if we’re not pouring those concerns and fears out to God faithfully why do we expect answers?
” She rubs my knee. “Take time, just you and God and talk it over. And talk it over with Austin. You’re a team.
You have to be constantly communicating for marriage to work.
I was overwhelmed once the twins came along.
It was hard. I had you, but I couldn't expect you to watch them, change them, or help with feedings. And Matt was busy with the ranch. It took a lot of prayer, a lot of talking, and a few tears. But I survived! And you will too.”
I give her a hug and rest my head on her shoulder.
I’d be lost without her. “Thanks, Mom.” Now that I’m done blubbering I have things to do.
“I’ve got tickets for tonight’s game, did y’all want to come?
” Austin gets tickets for every game, usually just four seats, but it’s something, and I look forward to going every time.
For now Grace just stays in my lap, so I can take up to three people with me.
“Dad and I have some things to do around the ranch, but you can take your brothers. I’m sure they'll help with Grace.”
I do need all the help I can get on the drives to and from Fort Worth. Grace usually does great for the majority of the ride, but it’s a long time in the car seat for her. With her uncles on either side of her she’ll be entertained the entire time.
Robert plops down with a giant bucket of popcorn next to me as we wait for the opening ceremonies to finish.
Grace immediately makes a grab for the popcorn, but I stop her.
I didn’t learn until recently that kids should wait until they’re close to the age of five to have popcorn.
She’s got plenty of other foods, but of course she wants what her uncles have.
I distract her with one of the many toys we brought and grab a handful of popcorn for myself.
The Lariat’s stadium is bougie. And the way they treat the players…
Yeah, that’s bougie too. Austin truly is blessed to play for a team that treats their players this well.
The tickets he gets for every game are to a special box, just for the players' guests. We don’t have to mingle with the crazed and drunk fans celebrating, or mourning, in the stands.
We’ve got better food, and private bathrooms. Which I would be extra thankful for if I was trying to potty train again.
But that endeavor is paused until further notice.
There’s also space for Grace to run around, which is an absolute necessity these days.
The national anthem has finally been sung and I hear the umpire yell “Play ball!” Grace hears it too.
“Paaaaayyyyy Baaaaaaahhhhhh!” She yells as loud as her little lungs will allow. Several people nearby turn, and most of them laugh, but a few shoot daggers her way. I can’t help it that she loves her daddy’s sport.
I pick her up and walk to the half wall that overlooks the field. The weather is cool enough today that the roof is open, but it’s still humid and hot. Thankfully a breeze blows through every now and then, and if you go deeper inside the booth there’s some air conditioning that is blasting.
Grace and I lean forward and watch all the players take their spots. I hold her up close, so her eyes are on the same level as mine and I point out Austin, standing behind second base. “There’s Daddy, do you see him, baby?”
She raises a chubby finger, pointing at the field. “Daddy?”
“Daddy!” I repeat and point again.
She looks at me, cocks her head, then turns back toward the field. Her green eyes squint. “Daddy?” She raises her hands and shakes her head. I point one last time. I’m certain it’ll take a few months, or maybe years before she can accurately identify him on the field.
As we’re watching, the pitcher winds up and the crowd quiets down just a bit.
“DAAAAAAADDDDDDDYYYYYYYYYY!” Grace yells right in my ear, creating a ringing echo.
My face turns a million shades of red and I want to go hide in the fancy air conditioned bathroom.
But I don’t. I stay put. And Austin looks up, because he knows which box we’re in, and he waves.
I wave back before setting Grace on the floor so she can go play.
The game moves forward smoothly without any more Grace outbursts.
The Lariat’s are playing the Warriors today, so it’s sure to be a tight game.
In the bottom of the sixth Austin comes up to bat again.
He’s the clean up hitter, and it’s his third time at bat.
We’re up by three runs, and he’s got two runners on base and the chance to give us a six run lead.
I’ve memorized his batting routine. He toes the dirt with his right foot, kicking up a small cloud behind him.
Then he twists his foot to the left and the right, digging in.
The bat rotates in a small circle over his right shoulder as he locks his eyes on the ball.
Although he’s explained the physics and timing for a perfect hit, I don’t understand all of it.
I just know he needs to connect his bat with the center of the underside of the ball.
The first pitch flies past him so fast and so close that he jumps back.
The pitcher is getting careless and, as nice as a forced walk would be, I don’t want Austin hit by a pitch.
The pitcher winds up again, his right leg in the air.
He drops his leg back to the mound and the ball flies toward Austin.
That delightful crack is heard as the bat connects with the ball.
I watch as it soars… higher and higher. Until it leaves the stadium behind.
Straight through the open roof, that ball is gone.
The crowd is on its feet yelling and screaming, but Austin stands at home plate. His right arm hangs by his side, and his left hand is clutching his shoulder. Then he hunches forward, and it’s obvious he’s in pain.
Something is wrong.
I watch, with breath suspended, as the managers run from the dugout to him. Every fiber of my body is telling me to run down there, but I can’t. Not right now. I have to wait until the game is over to be in the clubhouse, the tunnel, or the dugout.
Grace grabs my leg and I heft her up to my hip, never taking an eye off of Austin. “Daddy?” She asks me.
“I think Daddy got hurt.” I finally whisper.
The managers have their hands on his back and they’re all talking. Austin finally nods and I watch him slowly make his way around the bases so that his home run counts. He clutches his shoulder the entire time.
I hate that I can’t go down and be with him. I want to know what’s happening, how bad it is, what the game plan is. Depending on what the managers decide… Oh, no.
Grace fusses and pushes at me, and I realize that I’m squeezing her super tightly. I’m also struggling to breathe. I feel hotter than a Texas July afternoon, and my legs and arms feel so heavy. I’ve never had an anxiety attack, but I’m guessing I might be having one right now.
Slowly, and with careful steps, I reach for the closest chair and sink down into it. Rob and Riley rush toward me as I lean my head forward and rest it on my knees.