Page 13 of Merrick

Epilogue

MERRICK

“Alright, buddy! Remember what I told you!” I call out to Mattie.

"Don't worry. He's got this." Jemma tells me from the other side of the chain-linked fence.

She’s holding our daughter Erin, but she is wiggling around, desperate to get down and play.

"I'm his dad. I can't help it," I tell her.

It’s only been a few months since the adoption papers went through but calling myself Mattie’s dad still gives me the biggest thrill. He’s just as much mine as little Erin is to me. Jemma smiles, and I know that she's feeling the same rush. We finally got what we were both looking for—each other, a father for Mattie, and a growing family of our own.

I walk over to the fence and give my wife a quick kiss through the fence. I poke my finger through for Erin to grab a hold of. She giggles and holds on tight. It's just the distraction we need for her, so she isn't kicking Jemma's growing belly, and we can watch Mattie.

He steps up to the plate, kicks the dirt twice with his left foot, and twists it in. It's a ritual he picked up from watching me, showing him some of my techniques. He swears he can't get a hit without doing it and seeing as he’s the clean-up hitter on his team this year, who am I to question his methods.

“Come on, Mattie!” Jemma calls.

He’s doesn’t let his mother’s distraction pull any of his focus. He’s ready for this pitch. I take a breath and watch as the pitcher winds up and sends one right into the catcher’s mitt.

“Strike!” the ump yells.

I clap my hands and call out to him, “You’re ready!”

The smug look on the pitcher’s face is about to be wiped clean. He has no idea Mattie always lets the first one go by. It's his way of getting a feel for the pitcher.

Mattie twists his foot again. He’s ready. The pitcher winds up again and sends another one right down the middle, only this time Mattie swings for the fences. The crack that reverberates when his bat connects the ball is one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.

Everyone watches the ball sore into right field, right down the line, but no one is there to grab it. Mattie is already rounding second by the time someone picks it up. They toss it to the cut off at second base, but Mattie is already about to round third. I'm waving him on frantically. I know that it will be close, but with the way Mattie plays, it's go big or go home. The second baseman throws it to the catcher, but the throw is a little off, and Mattie slides in safely at home.

The crowd goes wild. Mattie just scored the winning run for his team. His teammates rush the field to congratulate him. I look back at Jemma, and she is jumping up and down, well, at least her version of jumping up and down considering she's four months pregnant and holding our one-year-old.

"Dad!" Mattie yells, and I turn just in time as he runs and jumps into my arms.

“You did it, buddy!”

I take a pause from living this moment to remember every detail that I can because I know what it is to live a dangerous but meaningful lifestyle, and I don't ever want to forget the happy moments like this with my family.

I put Mattie down, and he runs over to his teammates again. I jog over to the opening in the fence and run over to Jemma. She greets me with a kiss, and it takes my breath away once again as it did those few years ago.

“I love you,” she says.

“Forever,” I tell her back.

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