Her next pitch doesn’t have a chance against Colt’s powerful swing, and the home dugout erupts into action as we watch the ball sail over the wall. I’ve never seen a homerun fly that far in my stadium. Scarlett hugs me, and we both jump up and down as Colt lopes around the bases wearing a stoic expression.
Colt accepts countless high-fives before he arrives at my end of the bench. He doesn’t look at me as he pours himself some water from the cooler.
“Not bad,” I offer.
One of his eyebrows creeps up.
I ask, “But that bomb-diggity homerun doesn’t earn even a little smile from you?”
He tosses back the cup of water, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He turns to me. “Act like you’ve been there before.”
This is one of my brother’s favorite quotes, said by a famous football c
