Page 84 of Falling Together

“I knew it.”

Maybe I might get this parenting thing down after all.

Chapter Twenty-Five

GRANT

“I’m really sorry I can’t be there today.”

“I told you, it’s okay. Go be the best scouting guy out there.”

I laugh, flipping on my blinker to turn into Thistle Creek’s ballpark. “I thought you were learning about baseball, and I find out you’re not.”

“Does it help that I know it’s a round ball?”

“Not funny.”

“I am learning, but really, what do you call a scouting guy?”

“A scout.”

I wish I was having this conversation with her in person, but alas, I’m here. There’s a bright young prospect playing out here, and the team is hoping to recruit him to play for us. He’s rough around the edges, but with some training, he could be ready for the big leagues.

“Har har. Go do all the baseball things and we can celebrate the news at dinner tonight.”

We’re supposed to find out the gender of the baby today. It’s both exciting and nerve-racking. I know Georgia wants to find out, but I’m still on the fence. Why ruin the surprise? We’ll find out soon enough.

If only I could convince her of that.

“Sounds good. I’ll stop by the store on my way back and grab something,” I tell her.

“Are you really that worried I’m going to eat pancakes again for dinner?”

“Yes. I want to make sure you and the baby are well fed.”

“You know I won’t say no to whatever you’re making.”

“I know. I’m not above bribery,” I say. “Have a good day with your students.”

“See you tonight, Grant. Have a safe drive home.”

I end the call and grab my tablet from the seat next to me. With Georgia working late last night at the ranch, I was able to get in some more study time on this guy.

He’s only nineteen, but has a bright future ahead of him.

The field here is smaller than the one in Pinecrest—I know it’s a big spot for little league teams to come play. There’s a few people in the stands, likely more scouts, watching as someone rounds the bases.

Resting my arms on the aluminum fence, I watch as he sets back up at home plate. His form is good, from the way he holds the bat to his footing. A pitch is thrown and the crack of the ball hitting the bat echoes around the open field.

“Damn.” I let out a whistle.

The ball sails in a perfect arc over the fence. A home run.

Sure, it’s not a real game, but if he can hit like this without any pressure, it’s a good thing. I take my place in the stands away from the other scouts and make my notes as I watch him play.

I glance at my phone again. I really hate that I’m missing Georgia’s appointment today, but she said it was okay.

I wish I felt that way. I want to be there for her. Show her that I’m not going anywhere.