Page 93 of Fair Ball

I lean on the counter after having cleaned up from dinner. Mom has a bit more of an appetite, so I’ve been making all her favorite things. Even going so far as to ask for certain cuts of meat from Bill at the deli. He’s been great with talking me through how to cook them correctly, although I still gag a little at having to touch the pink meat. I do better with pork, and tonight, I made one-pan pork chops with apples and onions. Mom and Noah loved it. I put a few slices of apple in a salad with raisins and feta cheese, although I didn’t get very many bites down.

I haven’t all week. Mostly been subsisting on the protein smoothies I always made for Austin and now make for myself.

“You okay, Mom?”

I lift my head from where I had it in my hand, mindlessly rocking back and forth. “Yeah, nugget. I’m okay.”

My son frowns. “Are you sure?”

I nod, slapping on a smile.

“Is it Mimi?”

I don’t lie to Noah, but I also don’t want him worrying about me. He’s a ten-year-old child, and I’m his mother. I’m the one who’s supposed to worry about him. I lift my shoulder in a careless sort of shrug. “I’ve narrowed down the home care nurses to be with Mimi a few hours a day, so we’ll be doing interviews next week.”

He frowns. “If a nurse is coming…that’s bad, right? That means…she’s close…?”

I step away from the counter to hug him to me, smooth my hand over his hair, noticing how he’s grown over the summer. When he starts school, I’ll have to purchase him all new uniforms. He attends Blessed Trinity, like I did, and even though it’s an expense we don’t necessarily need, Mom was adamant.

Because of Austin’s generous salary, my savings account has quadrupled, so I’ve already paid this coming year’s tuition. It’s the following year I’m worried about. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

In answer to Noah’s question, I explain, “No, it’s not bad a nurse will be here. It’s good, but I understand if you feel bad about it. Mimi is not going to get better, and I know you’re sad. I’m sad too. Really sad, but the nurse will be able to care for Mimi and make sure she’s getting all her medications and therapy, keep her company while I’m at work and you’re at school.”

That brightens him. “So you found a job?”

“Still working on it.”

“Oh.” He nods, too world-weary and mature for his age. I hate that for him. I don’t imagine it’s been easy for him being a child of a neurodivergent single mom and sick grandmother. “You’ll find something,” he says, and I pop a kiss on his temple.

“I will. Thanks for the support, nug.”

After a moment, he tips his head up, the stress gone from his features. “I thought you were sad because of Austin.”

I cough in surprise. “What?”

“I thought maybe you were upset because something happened with Austin?”

“No.” It might be the first time I’ve ever lied to him. “Why would you think that?”

“He’s playing really bad.”

My stomach sinks. “He is?”

He nods, finally dropping his arms from around my waist. “Got into a fight during the last game because he hit a batter, and they all came out of the dugout.”

“Did he do it on purpose? Hit the guy?”

Ever-loyal Noah snorts at the idea. “No. He wouldn’t do that. He’s not a bad guy, Mom.”

As if I don’t know that.

“He’s just, like, not doing good, and I thought it might’ve been because you aren’t working for him anymore.”

I nibble on my finger, assessing how I can talk my way around this. The day after the gala, after I broke up with him, I was honest with Noah. At least, partly. I told him that I was no longer going to be Austin’s assistant because I needed to focus on our family for a while. Which isn’t untrue.

My mother’s in the middle of a transition, Noah’s been so busy all summer with baseball, and I…I need to find a real job. One that’s not sorting Skittles and playing with a bird.

At one point in my life, I had dreams and goals for myself, but I’ve been so sidetracked for the last decade, I forgot. Although being Austin’s “assistant” granted me freedom to remember that part of me. I didn’t have to worry about money or the next emergency. For the first time in a long time, I could do what I wanted. For a couple hours every day, a few days a week, I had fun.