Beyond the Bases

Walking into her room, I stop just beside her bed and hold out my hand. “Tell Easton goodbye and go pack whatever toys you want to take with you. We leave in ten minutes.” I wait for her to tell Easton goodbye before she hands me the phone. “Go,” I say in my stern mom voice. That snaps her into action, and she’s rushing down the hall to get her bag.

“Hey,” I say into the phone.

“You sound stressed, babe.”

“Work called me in early, so I’m rushing to get there. I take it you just landed?”

“Yeah. We’re getting ready to board the bus to take us to the hotel.”

“I’m glad you had a safe flight. I hate to cut this short, but I really need to go so I can finish getting P ready and get her to Mom’s.”

“Call me tonight if you get time, or when you get home.”

“Easton, it’s going to be late. You have a game tomorrow.”

“And I won’t sleep unless I know you made it home okay.”

“I’m a big girl, Easton.”

“I know you are. You’re also beautiful, and the best mommy to that little girl. But it’s time to let someone worry about you. So call me. Please,” he adds.

“Okay,” I agree, because how do I argue with that? I’ve been doing it all on my own, with only my mom’s help.

“Drive safe, babe. Give Princess P a hug from me.”

I can’t help but smile at his request. “I can do that.”

“Bye, Ris.”

“Bye, East.” I end the call, holding my cell to my chest. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. I’m in so deep with him. His words, he’s so confident about what he wants, and by pure luck, it’s me and my daughter. I still worry, but we’re getting closer every day. I don’t worry so much for our broken hearts, mine and Paisley’s, because I can’t help but think that maybe just maybe, if this were to end, his might be broken too.This is the first road trip where I can’t wait to get home. I’ve gotten used to being gone more than I am home; it’s the lifestyle of a professional baseball player. However, this time, this time there’s something, or two someone’s waiting at home for me, and I can’t get there fast enough. Hence the reason why our flight landed forty minutes ago and instead of heading home, I’m headed to them, to my girls. I texted Larissa to let her know my flight landed. She’s home today and said she and P are getting ready to settle in and watch last night’s game.

I pull up outside her house, her SUV is in the driveway, and although I’ve never spent a single night here, it feels like home. I didn’t tell Larissa I was coming. I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to tell me not to. Grabbing their surprise, I climb out of my truck and stride toward the front door. I knock twice and wait. I hear Paisley yell out that there’s someone at the door, then Larissa telling her to wait for her.

When the door opens, Paisley cheers and wraps her arms around my legs, and Larissa, her eyes are soft as she smiles at me. Leaning in, I kiss the corner of her mouth. I know I should worry about Paisley seeing, but I can’t stop myself. It’s not like this is the first time she’s seen me kiss her. Larissa is gorgeous in a pair of what looks like sweatpants that have been cut into shorts, and a T-shirt that hangs off her shoulder. Her hair is pulled up in some kind of twisted knot on the top of her head.

“You’re beautiful,” I tell her when her hand goes to smooth her hair that’s knotted back. “These are for you.” I hand her a bouquet of multi-colored daisies. “And these,” I crouch down so I’m eye level with Paisley, “are for my princess.” I hand her the smaller bouquet that the lady at the flower shop was nice enough to cut down for me.

“These are for me?” she asks, wide-eyed. “I never gots flowers before.”

“These are all yours. Every princess deserves her own flowers.”

Her mouth falls open, her eyes wide as she looks at me. “Are you a prince, East? Do princes play baseball?” she asks.

I throw my head back and laugh. “No, I’m not a prince, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not my princess. Now,” I stand then reach down and pick her up, “I heard you ladies were watching some baseball. Mind if I join you?”

Paisley giggles. It’s a sweet sound, one I’ll never get enough of. “You’re going to watch yourself, silly.”

I don’t tell her that the chances are I’ll spend more time staring at her mother than watching the game. “Doesn’t matter who we watch as long as I get to hang out with you.”