Graham
I don’t think I’ll ever grow used to being in the city. It’s too busy and loud. Cars swerving in and out of lanes, honking their horns, and I hate to lump everyone together, but the more time I spend here, the ruder people seem to be. The girl is tough. There is not a shadow of doubt about her ability to adapt, but it’s hard to imagine my sweet Kennedy surviving in a place like this.
My shoulder aches in the good kind of way, telling me it’s being used for a purpose, and after this morning’s practice, the familiar muscle burn is a welcomed feeling.
After a quick shower at the hotel, my home-away-from-home until Kennedy and I finalize our new apartment, I head back out into the busy streets. The walk is short, and that much I’m thankful for. My fingers twitch, eager and happy to know they’ll be on my wife soon.
The restaurant is busy, and I pull my hat down over my eyes. I may not be one of the star players, but people are starting to take notice. All I want is a nice lunch with Kennedy and Ben.
At a small booth tucked into the back of the main floor, Kennedy and Ben sit across from each other. She leans close and runs a crayon over the place mat. Tic Tac Toe.
“Sorry, I’m late, Baby.” Her perfume wafts into my space, and I close my eyes as our lips graze each other’s. Home.
“All you’ve missed is an intense battle, ending on a draw.” Kennedy circles the checkered box, showing they’ve outsmarted each other.
“My turn.” I nudge Ben for him to scoot over and grab the blue crayon. I place an X on the board, and look up at my wife, feeling her feet mix with mine under the table. “Playing footsie, huh?” The toe of her shoe glides up my calf. At first inspection, she’s fully engulfed in the game, but as she makes an O next to my X, a grin slips onto her face.
Her stare shifts from the board to me.
“Ben, why don’t you go play a game?” Kennedy digs into her purse and gives him a handful of quarters, not paying me any attention until Ben stops at a video game. Something’s the matter.
“What’s up, Ken?” Her feet are still distractingly rubbing my leg through my pants. Whatever she has to say must be weighing on her because she sighs and her shoulders slump. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“Things are kind of messy.” She plays with the corner of the table, rubbing her fingers over the semi-sharp edge. “And I guess I just needed to see you, to hear your voice, to know everything would be okay.”
“Is Ben okay?” She’s talking in circles, not really giving me much information. Why won’t she just come out and say it?
“I got called into the principal’s office at Ben’s school. It’s only the beginning of the year, and they’re already sort of worried about him.” Finally, she says something I can work with.
“Worried how?” I glance over at Ben, his smile bright, and he laughs to himself, watching the ball bounce up and down at his command. There’s nothing to be worried about.
“They think he’s a little withdrawn, more distant than he was last year. He does his work, but he’s also not very engaging.” The person Kennedy is describing sounds nothing like our Ben.
“Do they think it has to do with me being gone, or is it something else?” At my question, Kennedy’s smile softens. She cups my cheek, and I lean into the warmth it gives.
“We’ve had a lot going on. Ben understands your responsibilities. I keep reminding him it’s the end of regular season, and of the possibility of hopefully a long post season.”
Damn if I don’t love her for dreaming big for me, but my worry isn’t on the game. It’s on my son who may be struggling with my absence.
“I made that boy a promise a long time ago, Ken.” With my elbows resting comfortably on the table, I cross one hand over the other and hold them in front of my mouth. How can I fix this? I made my son a promise, and suddenly, I feel like I may be failing him in a big way.
“What promise?”
My eyes jump to hers, pulling me out of my misery.
“Before you and I were even back together, I promised him, no matter what, or where I was, I’d be there for him, and up until this moment, I’ve believed I have been.”
“Graham.” Her voice is too soft for what I deserve. I stand, leaving my beautiful wife at the table. She doesn’t chase after me, and like always, I’m thankful for her being able to be in my head.
“Hey, Little Man.” I lean against the wall next to the game.
“Hey, Dad.” He jostles the joy stick from side to side, gobbling up the small yellow dots while nearly being eaten by the colorful figures.
“I used to play this all the time when I was little. Your nana would take me to this pizza parlor, and it was the only game they had.”
When the last figure scarfs down his guy, he turns to me. Our eyes lock, and I’m reminded why we’d connected so strongly all those years ago. We read each other like Kennedy and I can, but with Ben and me, it’s different. There’s this impossible bond we can’t describe. Neither of us have even tried.
“You want to tell me what’s been going on?” I round my arm around his shoulders and pull him close. Ben pumps the machine with quarters and the screen comes alive. Silence sometimes is stronger than words, so my focus stays on the game. Every so often I glance over at him. He’d better know he can talk to me about anything. There has never been any reason for him to believe otherwise.
Ben kicks the side of the game just hard enough for me to notice. The sounds of the machine mixed with his loud thoughts are enough to drive me insane. Come on, Buddy. You can talk to me.
“School’s been hard,” Ben finally says. “Not the work or anything, but getting along with the other kids. They talk about what they did all summer with their dads, like fishing and camping trips.”
“And you feel left out because I wasn’t home much, and when I was, maybe you felt like my attention was elsewhere.”
“I’m not a baby anymore, and you don’t have to spend every second with me.”
“But I could’ve done better.” Holy shit, that hurts to admit.
“I don’t hate that you’re gone. It’s super cool what you do, and even all the boys in my grade ask about your being in the Major Leagues, but sometimes, I think it would be nice to have a dad who comes home after work and is there for dinner every night.”
“Is that what you really want?” I glance in my peripherals, afraid of the anguish I’ll see in his eyes if I dare to look.
“No, that’s not what I want. What you do is really cool.”
“You sure? Because I’d give it all up... for you.” Abandoning the game, I face my son whose smile never ceases to ease my heart.
“You would?” The innocence in his eyes is refreshing.
“Don’t act so surprised, my man. I made you a promise, and I’ll be damned if I don’t live a life keeping it.” Ben giggles at my minor curse word, another sign of his pure heart.
His throat bobs as he swallows. “I just wish you were home.”
“But Mom’s there, Ben, and anything you’ll ever need or want, she’ll make sure you have it.”
“She doesn’t replace you, though.” My heart rattles when he turns his back on me. Like a young kid, he drags his toes back to the table. Kennedy smiles as he approaches, pushing a plate of fries in front of him as he sits.
What am I going to do with him? In a perfect world, I’d be there for him every single moment. Nothing would be missed. The reality is I have a responsibility to my team, to my family, and to myself. Sometimes, I wish they never conflicted with each other.
“I ordered a few things just in case you both got hungry.” Kennedy smiles softly. Just beyond the sparkle of her eyes is the hint of sorrow she hides from most but can’t from me.
I reach across the table, clutch her hand in mine, and squeeze to let her know everything will be okay. It has to be okay.
“I don’t ship out until early tomorrow, so why don’t you stay with me at the hotel tonight, and we can order room service?” I glance at Ben who’s aimlessly gliding a French fry through a mound of ketchup.
Forever passes before he finally addresses my question. “Sure, whatever.”
The uneasy glance between Kennedy and me is interrupted by the waiter. He’s completely unaware of the turmoil brewing at our table. We order our meals and fall into small chatter. We have to pull every answer from Ben, who won’t share anything on his own. When did this shift happen, the point where our young, eager Ben has become unsure and skeptical? It’s as if he’s floating between who he was, and who he very well may become.
“Can I go play some more until dinner gets here?” Ben pushes on my side until I have no choice but to stand. His fingers wiggle, begging for some money. He snatches the ten-dollar bill from my hand and runs back to the game.
My body is heavy as I sit across from Kennedy, whose stare is graced over her shoulder. She shrugs as she turns to find me back in my seat. Her eyelids are sunken, and she worries her bottom lip. I’d give just about anything to remove the fear and uncertainty from her beautiful eyes.
“What are we going to do?” She checks once more over her shoulder to see Ben playing some racing game. “It’s like a switch has been flipped, and suddenly I don’t know how to help him.”
“He’s nine-years-old. I’d be more surprised if he didn’t spark an attitude.” I pop a French fry in my mouth and lean back in the booth. The slight curve of Kennedy’s neck, a small space I’d gladly nestle into for the rest of my life, pulls my full attention. A single second without my lips against her is time wasted.
“You look happy.” Kennedy shuffles her hair off to one side. Her dress is flowy with navy flowers and specks of yellow. It falls off her shoulders, exposing her beautiful, sun-kissed skin.
“Being new to a team is an adjustment, but I’m finding my place, and I’ve never been happier,” I answer.
“Every pitch is your dream come true, and for me, it’s a privilege to witness you standing on the mound. I’m constantly reminded of who we are and where we came from.”
“I wouldn’t be who I am without you.”
Kennedy stands and slips into the booth beside me. Her head leans down and rests against my chest. She’s right where she needs to be. Tucked into my side and safe. We don’t say anything because, as always, Kennedy and I don’t need words to have a conversation. Our breaths do the work. Even and effortless.
“We’re a family,” I say even though it doesn’t need to be spoken. Kennedy feels it. It’s in the way the skin next to her eyes crinkles when Ben becomes frustrated at losing a game, and how she’s so intent on letting him be a kid.
“I’ve loved the journey, but damn if I don’t love the people more.” Her hair tickles my arm as she stares up at me, wrinkling her nose as my lips touch it.
“It’s been a crazy ride, Kennedy.” I bend my arm just to feel her hair between my fingers. “Do you ever stop and wonder what would’ve been if things had been different?”
“What do you mean?” Kennedy sits up, and my body immediately misses hers.
“Not that I’d ever change a damn thing, Baby, but it has to have crossed your mind at some point. Like if I hadn’t left that party that night, or if I never transferred.”
“And what do you come up with? Where do you think we’d have ended up?”
“Let’s just say I’m thankful for all of our poor choices. Even when things are so hard and feel impossible, I get to look at you, and him”— I point to Ben at the basketball game, shooting hoops— “and it’s all put into perspective.”
“Isn’t it kind of crazy how one decision can change the course of your life so drastically?” With a heavy sigh, Kennedy lays her head back down on my shoulder. “Like the world knows how unstable we are and doesn’t trust us to find our own way, so it takes over for us.”
“I don’t know if I’ve said it enough, or even at all, but I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me, for looking past all of the bullshit and the mess, to see me.”
“Graham, I’ll always see you.”
My finger grazes under her chin, urging her to look up at me. When our eyes meet, like a spark to a flame, our lips are on each other’s.
“You guys are disgusting,” Ben says, startling us apart. He pops a few fries into his mouth. “We’re in public.”
His response has Kennedy and me laughing so hard, Ben can’t even stop himself from smiling.
“One day, Buddy, a girl is going to come along, and you won’t care where you’re at. You’ll kiss her out of compulsion and need.”
“Unlikely, Dad.” Ben rolls his eyes because he can’t see it, or even begin to understand it. For that, I’m thankful, but a part of me can’t wait for him to come to me for advice about the girl who steals his everything, much like his mother did to me. On that day, I’ll smile, knowing how much farther we’ve come.
The waitress drops off our food, and Ben quickly dives into his burger. God, has he always eaten this much? Or is this a new thing?
“Why don’t you try to taste your food?” I chuckle as he looks at me over his giant sandwich.
“Excuse me?” a young boyish voice says. A bright-eyed kid slips out from his booth behind us and stands a foot away from our table. “Are you Graham Black?”
“I am, and you are?”
“Being rude. I’m so sorry.” An older gentleman steps up behind the boy who is clearly his son. “I told him not to interrupt your dinner.”
“It’s no trouble at all.” I wave him off before turning to address his son. “Do you play baseball?”
“I’m not very good.”
“That’s no big deal. Do you know my first Little League game, I struck out? I don’t think I touched a base until halfway through the season.”
“Really?” His innocent eyes widen.
“So, stick with it, okay? What’s your name?”
“Jackson.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Jackson.” I reach out, and his hand feels so tiny in mine, much like Ben’s did when we first met.
“Dad...” Ben hands me his brand-new baseball hat with my team emblem on the front. As if Kennedy knows what he’s getting at, she slides me a Sharpie from her purse.
I sign it and give it to Jackson. He bounces on the balls of his feet. A rush of pride runs through me. I’ve played ball my entire life, but not until this moment have I felt as if I was doing something special. This is why I do it. To inspire someone isn’t something I take for granted. I remember being in the baseball stands when I was younger, imagining what it would be like to be out on the field. If I can bring a small glimpse of hope to a young kid like myself, then I’ll have done something remarkable.
Ben watches the small but mighty exchange between Jackson and me. Do I make him proud? When Ben sees me at work, do I bring a spark into his life, knowing he can do anything he sets his mind to? Does he believe if his dad can do it, then he can, too? Ben, with a solid attempt, tries to dodge my hand. I grab his and squeeze, before turning back to the father.
“You didn’t have to,” the father says to Ben.
He’s almost forgotten his own kind gesture and is back to stuffing his face with the fresh warm fries. “No big deal,” Ben says through a mouthful, never looking up.
“Why don’t you stop by the box office for our next home game? I’ll leave a few tickets there for you. You can be my guests,” I offer.
To see Kennedy’s features soften and have her eyes melt over me, I’d offer tickets to every person we pass. That’s why I do what I do.
“Really?” Jackson jumps up and down, grinning at his father.
“That’s awfully kind of you. I’m Steve, by the way.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” We shake hands. “And I mean it, stop by for those tickets.”
“We’ll get out of your hair. Enjoy the rest of your lunch.” Steve waves as he guides Jackson back to their table.
Once we are alone, Kennedy and I turn to Ben. He’s scarfing down his burger and doesn’t feel our eyes on him yet. When he does, he drops his food to the plate and crosses his arms over his chest like a defiant child.
“What?” Ben’s eyebrow perks up.
What I’m really wishing for is for that annoyed look to get off his face. When did we become the nuisance?
“What you did for that boy—” Kennedy starts to speak, but Ben cuts her off.
“Mom, it’s not a big deal”—he shakes his head— “I have like six more at home.”
“You’re a good boy.” Kennedy’s eyes begin to water.
“When I’m not being a pain in the ass.” Ben shifts his glance away from us. His cheeks turn red.
“Language, boy.” My stern tone is something I’ve never truly had to use with him. Jesus, I sound like my mom. Where did that come from? Am I becoming a true parent? Fuck. Maybe this is what it’s like. A mixture of really good moments, and while life seems simple and uncomplicated, it throws in a whole lot of fuckery and your nine-year-old slinging curse words.
“Sorry.”
I’d almost believe him if he didn’t mumble it under his breath and puff hot air from his tiny little cheeks.
“If you were sorry, you’d look your mother and me in the eye when you apologize.” I bend down low to catch his stare.
“I’m sorry.” He finally graces us with his attention.
“We’ve never given you the impression we thought that way, so why would you say something like that?” Kennedy asks.
Add this as another thing for my wife to worry about.
Ben leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.” He apologizes again, but this time it feels sincere. His eyes are far too focused on the empty plate in front of him, and his voice is too soft and tender for him not to feel embarrassed.
“Why don’t we get out of here? We can stop by Amanda and Violet’s to grab me some clothes.”
“You still have clothes there?” I give my wife a questioning glance. We moved her out of the apartment a lifetime ago.
“Yeah, for this exact reason. I’m not going to be in the city without any clean underwear.” Kennedy giggles, and Ben joins in.
I lean towards her and rest my lips behind her ear. “Who said you’ll be needing underwear?”
Her cheeks pinken, and she glances at Ben. “My guess is the boy across from us.”
Like cold water on my burning flame, I turn to a smiling Ben. He waves, reminding me he’s still here, and any sort of physical activity I have planned for his mother will have to wait.
After paying the bill, the three of us stand. Jackson grins at us over his dad’s shoulder.
“Is that weird, people recognizing you?” Ben asks as we step out of the restaurant.
“Honestly, kind of, but it comes with the job.” I shrug and circle my arm around his shoulder and my other tightly on Kennedy’s waist. Nothing in this world feels better than having them close.
“He looked so excited to have you in front of him,” Ben acknowledges. “I want someone to look at me like that one day.”
Bingo. There’s all the proof I need to know he’s proud of me.
“I look at you like that all of the time.” Kennedy bends forward and tickles Ben’s stomach.
Ben giggles, trying to escape Kennedy’s fingers from grabbing his hip bones. “You’re obligated to.”
“No one is obligated to do anything. We make a choice. You’re mine, and hell, even when you weren’t, I knew you had to be special.”
“Why?”
“Because he saw it,” Kennedy says matter of fact, tipping her chin towards me. “I never once doubted you weren’t someone worth holding close, kiddo.”
Sometimes I can’t wait for Ben to grow up, to understand how alike we all truly are. Three broken souls, mended through time and determination. We’re survivors.
Ben’s quiet the rest of our walk. The kid’s never been good with positive attention. Ms. Betty warned me early on he’s skeptical of those willing to give him any sort of compliment.
“O-M-G!” Violet pulls us into the apartment. “What are you guys doing here?”
Ben plops down on the couch, kicking off his shoes and making himself at home.
The remote is snatched from his hands by Dan, who then shoves him over and flips through the channels for something to watch.
“Hi to you, too, asshole.” I smack the back of his head and sit down across from them.
Violet has already dragged Kennedy into the spare room. Drawers open and close, and Dan and I stare at each other in awe and near exhaustion when they come barreling out of the room, giggling like a couple of school girls.
“What are you guys doing for the rest of the day?” Dan asks, looking between Kennedy and me. “Wait, don’t you have a series coming up?”
“I leave tomorrow morning.” I tug Kennedy onto my lap.
“Why don’t you let us take Ben for the night? We’ll take him to the arcade and pack him full of junk food.” Dan smiles happily. I almost dread bursting his bubble.
Kennedy’s entire body goes rigid against my chest, and she sits up, checking my reaction over her shoulder. “Now isn’t the best time. We have a night planned of junk food and watching movies at the hotel.”
Dan kicks at Ben’s leg, pulling our sons attention from the movie. “Would you rather hang out with your boring parents, or chill with your awesome non-biological aunt and uncle?”
“I could go for some ice cream,” Ben quips.
“See, it’s settled.” Dan stands, clapping his hands together. “Please let Ben come out and play with us.”
“Fine.” Kennedy groans. “But let the record show, I desperately wanted to hang out with my son, and you’re stealing him away from us.”
Things are so unsteady, and every decision we make seems like it could be the catalyst for our downfall. I’m not sure if this is the best idea, but at least I know Ben will be safe and spoiled.