Chapter 4
She’s on the pitcher’s mound,
ball in hand, eyeing the catcher. She nods, sets herself up like I’ve seen her
do in her backyard a million times, and lobs the ball forward.
The batter swings and misses,
and I applaud for Bella, calling her name. It’s then I notice the hulking
figure in the stands lower down. He swivels his head back toward me and waves.
Jake. Of course. He claps as well, and the two of us cheer her on.
She’s got the ball again and
rubs it with both hands, her glove tucked beneath her armpit. She sets up,
looks toward us once, and drives the ball toward the hitter.
Crack!
The batter’s running, hauling
ass to first, then second. Bella’s low to the ground, leaning side to side,
keeping on her toes, waiting to see if the action will come her way. Eventually,
it does as the ball makes is way in-field. The softball’s flying fast, straight
for her.
“Back it up!” I shout. “She’s going
for it. Be ready!”
With a backward leap, Bella
snags the ball and touches back, swiping her glove on the player’s thigh.
The noise of the crowd pauses as
we wait for the umpire’s call.
“Out!” he shouts, and Bella’s
glove flies into the air as the rest of the teammates rush her. She’s just won
the game for her team. Dammit, she’s good. I love to watch her play. So
passionate. She’s always been that way. Even when she was five and we were in
t-ball together. She was competitive and wanted to win. But it went beyond that
and still does—she wants to get better, to improve. I do, too. In more ways
than one.
I stand and cheer, waving my
team-issued hat in the air when I realize Jake’s vacated the stands. He’s on
the field, and Bella’s in his arms.
This week sucks.
No comments:
Post a Comment