Page 24 of Run Home

Returning my eyes to the sky, I notice the smooth movement of a satellite orbiting the earth. It looks like a shooting star at first glance, but I don’t think satellites work for granting wishes.

I close my eyes and make a wish anyway.

Chapter ten

Adrian

After swinging my arms across my chest a couple of times, I lightly bend my knees, ready to shuffle either direction. This batter tends to hit toward left field more often than not, so I focus in, ready for the ball to come my way. Cabrera fires a bullet right down the middle, too fast for the batter to hit. The next pitch is low and inside, so I take a half step closer to third just as the batter swings and sends the ball bouncing toward me.

Everything moves at lightning speed—including me. I lean to catch the bouncing ball with my bare hand, immediately pivoting my body to throw across the field to first. Drew makes the catch, and the umpire dramatically motions the runner out. Drew tosses the ball back to the pitcher, then points at me in recognition of the good play. I blow fake smoke off the palm of my bare hand, shaking it out with a grin.

Unfortunately, the next two batters both hit singles. It’s the bottom of the ninth inning, and we’re up by one. We need one more out to end the game, so I creep closer to third base, ready to catch a throw for the forced out at third if a hit comes to this side of the field.

At the crack of the bat, I run to third as the ball flies toward Carson in the shortstop hole. Touching my foot to the base, I turn my body and hold up my gloved hand, ready to catch his throw. He’s running forward and fields the ball off the second bounce. The way his body is facing, he’d have a hard pivot to throw to second or first, so he underhand pops the ball toward me. I have to stretch the full length of my body to reach it, but I manage to catch the ball right as the runner is sliding toward the base.

I turn my head to see the umpire call the runner out, successfully securing the win.

In my excitement, I forget that Carson has been a total stick-in-the-mud, and I launch myself at him as he jogs off the field. “Great play, chamo!” I yell as I bear-hug my arms around him and lift his feet off the ground.

I guess I should consider it progress that he doesn’t smack my arms away or kick me. I almost think there’s a shadow of a smile on his face before he replies, “Could have been a cleaner toss. It was almost out of your reach, and then the runner probably would have made it home.”

Clapping his back, I say, “But it wasn’t out of reach. And he was out. Take the compliment.” I repeat with more emphasis, “Great play, chamo!”

Spirits are high in the locker room after the win. Carson even cracks a full smile when Drew congratulates him on his toss for the final out, so I guess my pep talk worked.

When the celebration begins to die down, Drew video calls his wife, Lily. His grin turns goofy, so I know who he’s talking to and rush over to see Asher’s little face on video. His gummy smile and chubby cheeks fill the screen as he apparently tries to eat Lily’s phone.

Lily’s hand fills the screen, followed by blackness as she wipes off the camera, then she and Asher are both visible again. Drew says, “Get him to say it again!” He turns to me and explains, “He finally said ‘dada’ for the first time after weeks of saying ‘mama.’”

“You know he’s just babbling,” Lily says. “He’s not associating the words with us yet.”

Drew huffs. “You were pretty smug about him saying ‘mama’ first. So which is it—he’s babbling nonsense or he said your name first?”

Lily laughs before getting Asher’s attention. “Can you say ‘dada’?”

Asher opens and closes his mouth several times like he’s thinking about it before he decides to gurgle some spit instead.

Elbowing Drew in the ribs, I tease, “He’s giving his old man a hard time already. I like this kid.”

“Dada. Dadadadada,” Asher suddenly babbles, and Drew’s smile cracks the earth.

“That’s right! Good job, buddy!” Lily says, smiling at Asher.

Moisture glistens in Drew’s eyes, and I decide to give him this moment to enjoy solo. Clapping him on the shoulder, I walk back to my locker and get everything I need for a shower.

Two of our outfielders ask if I’m going to join them out at a club tonight since we don’t fly back to KC until tomorrow morning. They clearly assume I’m going—which is fair, considering it’s been my default in the past. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Drew’s lingering smile as he puts away his phone.

I want that. Not another night at the club. Who takes the order that I’ll have what he’s having?

“No thanks, chamos. I’m gonna pass this time,” I respond.

I’m uncharacteristically pensive while showering and riding the bus to the hotel, especially considering we swept this series. Every sports analyst has the Crowns in the running for the World Series this year, and these three games will only contribute fuel to that fire. Heck—Carson even smiled today.

But all I can think about are the blue-lagoon eyes that torment my dreams. The crinkled nose that accompanies poorly hidden laughter. The heart of fire-purified gold that loves her people without holding back.

I want a chance to see if Sam and I could have what Drew and Lily have. What Griffin and Danae have. To see if we would have the connection I sense with her.

By the time I reach my hotel room, I’m so amped up with thoughts of Sam, I consider going to the gym to lift some weights. But before I can change clothes, my phone rings with a call from my dad. Switching my mind fully over to Spanish, I answer and greet him.