Chapter 7
2382 Words
The Hickory Ridge Hawks took the field a few minutes later, and Christian practically bounced out of the dugout.
His white pants were still clean.
Emma knew that wouldn’t last.
“Number seven!” Jackson called from beside her. “Let’s go, buddy!”
Christian looked toward the sideline and grinned.
Emma smiled.
There was something about seeing him out there that made everything else temporarily disappear. The move. The separation. The awkwardness of sitting three feet away from the man she had spent years sharing a life with.
For the next hour and a half, they were just Christian’s parents.
The Hawks scored first.
Carter knocked a ground ball between first and second, bringing in their first run of the game.
Melody jumped out of her chair.
“GO, CARTER!”
Emma laughed as Melody cupped both hands around her mouth.
“I apologize for absolutely nothing,” Melody said as she sat back down.
“You’re my kind of baseball mom.”
“Oh, just wait. If he gets on base again, it gets worse.”
By the third inning, the Hawks were ahead three to two.
Christian had already made it onto base once and scored on a double from one of his teammates. Every time he came near the dugout, he looked toward Emma and Jackson to make sure they had seen whatever he had just done.
They always had.
Luke and Blake remained beneath the tree several yards away from the bleachers.
They had barely watched the game.
Instead, Blake had apparently shown Luke some kind of space simulation on his tablet, and the two of them had been arguing—happily, as far as Emma could tell—about whether humans would ever realistically live on Mars.
Every few minutes, Emma looked over.
Every time, Luke was still there.
Still talking.
Still comfortable.
It made her smile every single time.
By the bottom of the fourth inning, though, more families had crowded around the field.
The team playing after the Hawks had started arriving, and the noise around them seemed to double.
Children ran behind the bleachers.
Parents yelled across fields.
Someone nearby rang a cowbell every time the Hawks made a good play.
Emma saw Luke react to it almost immediately.
His shoulders lifted.
His hands moved toward his ears even though the headphones Melody had offered him were already resting around his neck.
Emma stood.
Jackson glanced at her.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to check on Luke.”
“He’s fine.”
Emma looked at him.
“He’s getting overwhelmed.”
Jackson glanced toward the tree.
Luke was still sitting beside Blake.
“He looks okay.”
“I know what he looks like when he’s getting overstimulated.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t.”
Something in his tone made her pause.
Emma looked at him.
“I’m just going to check on him.”
Jackson leaned back in his chair. “Em, he’s sitting there talking to another kid. Let him be.”
“I am letting him be.”
“You’re getting up the second he looks uncomfortable.”
“Because I know him.”
“So do I.”
There it was.
Emma felt the familiar tension settle between them.
It happened so quickly she almost hated herself for recognizing it.
Same argument.
Different place.
She lowered her voice.
“Jackson, I didn't say you don't know him.”
“You don't have to.”
Emma stared at him.
“Seriously?”
Jackson sighed and rubbed a hand across his jaw.
“Just go check on him.”
The words sounded less like permission and more like surrender.
And somehow that irritated her even more.
“I wasn't asking permission.”
“I know, Emma.”
She hated the way he said her name.
Not loudly.
Not cruelly.
Just tired.
Like they had already had this conversation a thousand times.
Because they had.
Emma walked toward Luke before she said something she would regret.
When she reached the tree, Blake was showing Luke something on the tablet.
Luke looked up.
“You okay, Bug?”
“Yes.”
“The noise isn't bothering you?”
Luke hesitated.
“A little.”
Emma reached for the headphones around his neck.
“You can put these on.”
“I know.”
She stopped.
Luke looked back at the tablet.
“Blake said we can move behind the concession building if it gets louder.”
Emma glanced at Blake.
He nodded.
“It’s quieter there.”
Emma smiled.
“That sounds like a good plan.”
She started to walk away, then stopped.
“You sure you're okay?”
Luke looked at her.
“Mom.”
She knew that tone.
Emma held up both hands.
“Okay. Okay. I'm going.”
When she returned to her chair, Jackson didn't say anything.
Neither did she.
For several minutes, they watched the game in silence.
Then Jackson finally spoke.
“You know that's what I'm talking about.”
Emma kept her eyes on the field.
“Not here.”
“I’m not trying to argue.”
“Then don't.”
Jackson exhaled.
“You ask him if he's okay, he says yes, and then you ask him again.”
Emma turned toward him.
“Because sometimes he says he's okay when he's not.”
“And sometimes he actually is.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Jackson shook his head.
“Forget it.”
“No. You don't get to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Say something like that and then tell me to forget it.”
Melody was several chairs away talking to another mother, but Emma still lowered her voice.
Jackson did the same.
“I think sometimes you anticipate every possible problem before it happens.”
“Because somebody has to.”
The second the words left her mouth, she knew she'd hit something.
Jackson stared at her.
“There it is.”
Emma looked away.
“I didn't mean it like that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Jackson—”
“No, Emma. You did. That's exactly how you always felt.”
His voice was quiet, but the hurt behind it wasn't.
“You handled Luke because you decided you were the only one who could handle Luke. You handled school stuff. Appointments. Food. Routines. Everything. Then you got angry because you felt like you were doing everything.”
Emma's stomach tightened.
“Because I was doing everything.”
Jackson gave a humorless laugh.
“And whenever I tried, you corrected me.”
“Because you wouldn't listen!”
A few parents glanced over.
Emma immediately lowered her voice.
She could feel her heart beating harder.
Jackson leaned closer.
“I did listen.”
“No, you listened until what I said became inconvenient.”
His jaw tightened.
“That's not fair.”
“Neither was feeling like I had to be ten steps ahead of everybody in that house all the time.”
“I was working, Emma.”
“And I was working too.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
He stared at her.
She realized she had thrown his own words back at him.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The crack of a bat interrupted them.
Both of their heads snapped toward the field.
Christian was running toward first.
“RUN!” Emma yelled automatically.
Jackson stood.
“GO, CHRISTIAN!”
Christian made it safely to first as the ball sailed past the baseman.
Everything between Emma and Jackson disappeared for a few seconds.
Emma clapped.
Jackson whistled loudly.
Christian stood on first base grinning toward them.
Then he pointed at both of them.
Emma laughed despite herself.
“Show-off.”
“Gets it from you,” Jackson said.
She looked at him.
He smiled slightly.
And for one stupid second, she almost smiled back.
Then the inning continued.
The Hawks scored another run, bringing the game to four-three.
When they sat back down, the tension had changed.
It hadn't disappeared.
It was simply quieter.
Jackson stared toward the field.
“I never thought you were a bad mom.”
Emma looked at him.
“I know.”
“Actually, I thought the opposite.”
He picked at the edge of the label on his water bottle.
“You were so good at knowing what they needed that half the time I felt like I was already behind before I even walked through the door.”
Emma didn't know what to say to that.
Jackson continued.
“And then I'd come home exhausted, and you'd ask me to do something, and if I didn't do it exactly the way you would have done it…”
“You'd get defensive.”
“Because I felt like I couldn't do anything right.”
Emma swallowed.
“And I felt like I couldn't ask you for anything without you acting like I was criticizing you.”
Jackson looked at her.
“Yeah.”
There it was.
The entire problem between them condensed into two sentences.
Emma had spent years feeling alone.
Jackson had spent years feeling inadequate.
The more she tried to explain what she needed, the more criticized he felt.
The more defensive he became, the more alone she felt.
Round and round they had gone until neither of them remembered how it started.
A roar erupted from the opposite side of the field.
The other team had scored.
Four-four.
Christian's coach called the Hawks together near the dugout.
Emma glanced toward the scoreboard.
Top of the sixth.
Last inning.
“Looks like we're getting our money's worth,” Melody said as she returned to her chair.
Emma smiled.
“Apparently.”
The opposing team managed one more run before the Hawks finally got the third out.
Five-four.
Christian's team needed two runs to win.
Carter was second in the batting order.
Christian was third.
“Oh, I hate this,” Melody announced.
Emma laughed nervously. “Same.”
The first Hawks batter struck out.
“One out,” Jackson murmured.
Carter walked toward the plate.
Melody stood.
“COME ON, BABY!”
Carter swung at the first pitch.
Strike.
Second pitch.
Ball.
Third pitch.
Carter connected.
The ball shot into shallow right field.
“GO!” Melody screamed.
Carter rounded first and made it safely to second.
Melody nearly lost her mind.
Emma was laughing when she realized who was walking toward home plate.
Christian.
Her stomach dropped.
“Oh, Lord.”
Jackson was already standing.
“Come on, buddy.”
Christian stepped into the batter's box.
He tapped the plate once with his bat.
Emma's heart hammered.
First pitch.
Ball.
Second pitch.
Strike.
Christian stepped out, adjusted his batting gloves, and looked toward his coach.
Then he stepped back into the box.
Jackson cupped his hands around his mouth.
“YOU GOT THIS, CHRISTIAN!”
The pitcher threw.
Christian swung.
The crack echoed across the field.
The ball sailed over the second baseman's head and rolled deep into the outfield.
Emma shot out of her chair.
“GO! GO! GO!”
Carter rounded third.
He crossed home plate.
Five-five.
Christian rounded first.
The outfielder finally reached the ball.
“SECOND!” Jackson yelled.
Christian kept running.
The throw came toward second.
Christian slid.
Dust exploded around him.
“SAFE!”
Emma screamed.
Jackson grabbed her arm.
“He did it!”
She turned toward him, laughing.
“I know!”
The next batter stepped to the plate.
One out.
Christian stood on second.
The first pitch was a ball.
The second batter fouled one off.
Then came the third pitch.
The batter connected.
A hard grounder shot toward left field.
Christian took off.
“GO, CHRISTIAN!”
He rounded third.
Emma stopped breathing.
The left fielder threw toward home.
Christian sprinted.
The catcher reached for the ball.
Christian slid across the plate.
The umpire threw both arms outward.
“SAFE!”
The Hawks' dugout exploded.
Six-five.
Christian jumped up covered in dirt as his teammates poured out of the dugout.
One more runner crossed home before the play ended.
Seven-five.
The Hawks had won.
Emma screamed.
Jackson wrapped an arm around her without thinking.
And without thinking, Emma wrapped hers around him.
For one second, they were laughing together.
Just like they had hundreds of times before.
Their son had just helped win a baseball game, and nothing else mattered.
Then Emma realized Jackson's arm was around her waist.
Jackson seemed to realize it at exactly the same time.
They separated.
Neither said anything.
Melody was cheering too loudly to notice.
Emma looked toward the field.
Christian was buried beneath a group of seven-year-olds celebrating like they had just won the World Series.
She smiled.
Then she looked toward the tree.
Luke and Blake were standing now.
Blake was clapping.
Luke wasn't.
But he was smiling.
Emma watched as Luke said something to Blake.
Blake answered.
Luke laughed.
Her eyes moved back toward Christian.
One son surrounded by teammates.
The other standing beside a new friend.
Then, finally, she looked at Jackson.
He was watching the boys too.
There was pride on his face.
And sadness.
Maybe the same sadness she felt.
Because this was the part that made everything so complicated.
They had made two incredible children together.
They could still sit beside each other at a baseball game and cheer until they were hoarse.
They could still laugh.
They could still understand each other with a look.
There had been good between them.
A lot of good.
But good moments had never been their problem.
It was everything that happened between them.
The misunderstandings.
The defensiveness.
The exhaustion.
The constant feeling that neither of them was being heard.
Emma looked back toward the field as Christian came running toward them.
“WE WON!”
Jackson laughed and opened his arms.
“You sure did, buddy!”
Christian crashed into him.
Emma smiled as she watched them.
Maybe loving someone wasn't always the same thing as knowing how to live with them.
She was beginning to understand that those could be two very different things.
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