Beyond the Bases

Her eyes well up with tears. “I’m sorry.” Her bottom lip quivers.

“Come here.” I pull her into my arms and hug her tightly. “I’m not mad at you, Paisley, but I would be if something happened to you. Mommy and I would both be really sad if you were hurt or taken from us.”

She nods and sniffs. “Are those for me?” she asks.

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. I know she’s four, well almost five and doesn’t understand the dangers, but I hope she will think twice before opening the door again without an adult with her. “They are,” I tell her.

“Mommy, do you see dat?” She points to the swing.

“I do,” Larissa says. “Why don’t you go inside and we can bring them in.”

“Okay, but hurry,” she says, dashing off into the house.

“Really, Easton?” Larissa asks.

“What?” I play dumb.

“You’re spoiling her.”

“I know.” I grin.

“What happens when she begins to expect this and I can’t make it happen? I’m a single mom on one income.”

“You also have a very rich boyfriend who loves to spoil both of you.” I lean in for a kiss, but she turns her head giving me her cheek.

“It’s too much. You just took her shopping and got her shoes and a bear, that she absolutely loves by the way.”

“Good. I hope to do more of that. For both of you.” I snake my arm around her waist and bring her into my embrace. “Look, I’m bummed I’m not going to be here on Saturday. I wanted to make up for it. I have to break the news to her that I can’t be here and that’s killing me. Besides, she’s my princess,” I say, kissing her neck.

“Fine,” she grumbles. “But we need to talk about how you spoil her. You need to dial it down a bit, mister.”

With one hand behind my back, I cross my fingers. “We do,” I agree, not meaning it. Nothing she says will keep me from giving them the world, or at least stop me from trying to give it to them.

“Paisley,” I yell, and she rushes to the door. Her nose is pushed up against the screen, and the smile on her face is infectious. “I was wondering if you know of anyone who’s having a birthday soon?”

“Me, oh me.” She jumps up and down.

“Come here.” She wastes no time pushing open the screen door and barreling into me. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay,” she says.

I take a seat on the steps, and she climbs into my lap. “I leave tomorrow for a whole week. Do you know what that means?”

“You have to play baseball. Are you sure that’s work?” she asks.

I throw my head back and laugh. “Yeah, princess, it’s work. They pay me to play.”

“That’s what I want to do when I grow up.”

“You can be anything you want,” I say, kissing the top of her head. “That also means I won’t be able to be here on Saturday to celebrate your birthday.” Her lip quivers and I rush to say more. “But I thought today we could pretend it was your birthday and that makes it super special because it’s just the three of us, which means I get you both all to myself. It’s like my present.”

“But I miss you,” she whispers.

“I know, sweet girl. I’ll miss you too. Sometimes adults have to do things they don’t want to. If I could stay home with you and your mom, I would, but this is my job and I have to go.”

“Don’t worry, East.” She places her tiny hands on each of my cheeks. “Mommy can cord the game and I can see you. I’ll still love you if you miss my party.”

I kiss her nose and hug her tightly. “I love you, Paisley Gray. You are a special little girl.”

She nods. “That’s what Mommy says too.”

I look up at Larissa, and she’s shaking with silent laughter as unshed tears glimmer in her eyes. “Right, so I have some gifts for the birthday girl.”

She wiggles in my lap, barely able to contain her excitement. “Can I open them?”

“You sure can. But you have to open the box first,” I tell her, helping her off my lap. She rushes to the swing and tears into the box. Her shriek rings out causing me to wince. The neighbors are probably wondering what the hell is going on over here.

“East! I love her so, so much, and she looks just like me.”

“She does. Do you want to know what her name is?” I ask. She nods. “Her name is Maisley.” I wink.

“Just like the story!” She cheers and drags the box from the swing over to me. “Can you help me?”

“I can, but before we get her out, why don’t you open the rest of your presents?” She rushes back to the swing and tears into the bags. Between the two bags, there are eight outfits, four for her and four for her American Girl doll so they can match. I went a little crazy.