Chapter 1 #2
"Lauren, thank God you're here," Carol said as I settled next to her. "I need someone sane to sit with. Jake's dad has been yelling at the umpire since warm ups."
"How's Devin looking?" I asked, scanning the field until I found my son taking practice swings.
"Focused. Determined. Scary focused, actually." Carol laughed. "Jake says he's been living at the batting cages."
"Pretty much. I barely see him except when he's inhaling food between practices."
"It's paying off. Jake mentioned some college scouts have been asking questions."
My heart picked up speed. "Really? Which schools?"
"UConn for sure. Maybe Boston College. You know how these kids exaggerate, but Jake seemed pretty sure about UConn."
I watched Devin adjust his batting gloves, his whole body coiled with concentration. This was what passion looked like, and what it meant to want something so badly you'd sacrifice everything else for it. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt that kind of hunger for anything.
The game started with Everleigh High School scoring two quick runs in the first inning. Their pitcher was throwing heat, and our boys looked rattled. By the sixth inning, we were down 4-2, and the crowd was getting restless.
"Come on, baby," I whispered as Devin stepped into the batter's box with two outs and runners on second and third. Everything came down to this moment. All those hours of practice, and dreams of playing in college.
The pitcher wound up, delivered. High and tight. Devin stepped back, reset himself.
The second pitch was right down the middle. Devin's bat connected with a crack that reverberated across the field, and the ball kept climbing, sailing over the left fielder's head and into the trees beyond the fence.
Home run. Three runs scored. We were ahead 5-4.
I jumped up with everyone else, screaming until my throat hurt. Devin rounded the bases with the biggest grin I'd seen from him all year, and when he crossed home plate, his teammates mobbed him. But through all the chaos, he found me in the stands and pointed right at me.
"That was for you, Mom," he mouthed, and my eyes filled with tears.
This beautiful, determined, hardworking kid was mine. Somehow, despite all the ways I'd failed at everything else, I'd helped create this person who knew how to fight for his dreams.
After the game, Devin jogged over to the fence where parents were waiting. His face was flushed with victory and pure joy.
"Mom, did you see that? Did you see that hit?" He caught himself immediately. "Sorry. Did you see that hit?"
I laughed. "I saw it, and it was incredible."
His eyes went wide. "Mom!"
"What? You hit a home run when it mattered most. That deserves some strong language."
"Coach Phelps wants to talk to me about the UConn scout. He wants to meet with me next week." Devin's tone cracked slightly, caught between excitement and disbelief.
"That's amazing, baby. I'm so proud of you."
His smile faltered as he scanned the crowd of parents behind me. "Is Dad here somewhere?"
My heart sank. "He had that investor meeting. You know how those go."
"Right." Devin's face went neutral, the expression kids master when they're tired of being disappointed by the adults who are supposed to love them most. "No big deal. I figured."
But it was a big deal. It was the biggest deal in the world, and we both knew it.
"Listen, Mom, the team wants to go to Jake's house to celebrate. His parents said it was cool if we all sleep over. Can I go?"
"Of course. Just text me when you get there safely."
"Thanks. Love you, Mom. Thanks for coming. It means everything."
"Love you too, superstar."
I watched him run back to his teammates, already moving past his father's absence because that's what resilient kids learn to do. They adapt. They lower their expectations. They protect their hearts the only way they know how.
I drove home through streets lined with pristine houses and well maintained lawns, everything looking exactly like it was supposed to look from the outside. Just like my marriage.
I walked through the front door of our house. I'd left some lights on, but it still felt empty. I stood in the foyer for a moment, listening to nothing but the sound of my heartbeat.
My phone chimed. Brett, right on schedule.
Brett:
Meeting running very late. Don't wait up.
Six words. Twenty-three years of marriage, and this is what we'd become. Six words and no curiosity about his son's moment of triumph.
I typed back:
Devin won the game with a home run. UConn scout wants to meet with him.
The three dots appeared and disappeared twice before his response came through.
Brett:
That's fantastic. Tell him I'm proud.
I made myself a tuna sandwich and ate it standing at the kitchen island, scrolling through Facebook on my phone. Beach vacations and anniversary dinners and family game nights. Everyone looked so happy in their curated snapshots of perfection.