He cut the engine and then sat there, staring at the pair while Shay glanced from the woman to Matt and back again.
"You had an urge to hit the swing set?" she asked.
"That's my mother," he answered simply, and then tilted his head to the woman.
"That's …” Shay stared after her, and Matt took in every detail along with her.
He remembered the first time he'd seen her, too. Remembered how shocked he'd been at how normal she looked. She wasn't some drum-banging hippy or strung-out smoker. She wasn't thin, but she wasn't fat either. She wore a ponytail and tennis shoes. Jeans and a T-shirt.
In short, she looked like a mom. And now she was one. For real this time.
"And that's…?" Shay said, but he knew the e
nd to the question.
"My half-sister." Matt nodded. "Yep, they call her Jay. Her name is Jacqueline."
"And you know all this because…."
"She asked me to meet them here once—when I was here on tour with the team. She had both the kids with her that day. There's a boy, too. His name is Nick."
Shay let the silence hang between them, so Matt went on. "I never ended up walking over to them, but I watched. Just for a little while. To see what she was like."
"Right," Shay whispered.
"So, when I didn't show, she wrote me another letter letting me know that they came here every Sunday afternoon and that she knew it would be hard, but she'd love to see me. That was that."
"That was that," Shay repeated.
The whole time he'd been speaking, she stared at the woman in front of them with no attempt at hiding the stare. Maybe she was shocked by how normal she was, too.
"The twins are nine now," he added. "They seem like good kids."
As he said it, the little girl dropped from the bars and ran toward her mother, her arms outstretched.
"I'm glad that they have this. I always…well, I always sort of wondered what it would be like. Having a mother." He watched as Jay enveloped her mother in a hug. "I'm not going to lie. Sometimes I see how nice Jay's clothes are or how well she's dressed and I get angry. I wish Andy had had that. A mother. Someone to look after her."
"And what about you?" Shay asked.
He shrugged. "I had my dad."
Shay was quiet, her mouth contorted strangely for a minute before her impassive expression returned.
Shit, he thought.
"Sorry. I know..." he tried, but he didn't know how to finish.
"No, no, it's fine. It's not like my dad chose to die." She turned her gaze to him for the first time since they'd parked. "You know, they all mean well. Even all the stepfathers I've had. They all mean for things to work and to make a perfect little family. I think they just don't realize how hard that is."
"No, they don't realize a perfect family doesn't exist." Matt guffawed.
"I think yours is about as close as it gets."
A smile tugged on the corner of his lips. "I definitely got lucky. You know, my dad never said anything about her." He nodded toward the woman now leading her daughter toward the slide.
"No?"
"I think he didn't want to remind us of what we were missing. But I never felt like I was missing anything. Not really. He read to us at night, helped with our homework, coached us in sports." Matt shrugged. "When I made it to the majors, I never once wished my mom was there to see what I'd done. I was just glad my dad could see it."