Eighteen years later …
I sit in our house, the one with the white fence, the basketball hoop, the batting cage, and the pool—I sit here doing something I haven’t done in twenty-four years.
It’s not that I wouldn’t have done it after Rylee and I got married. I probably would have, but just like Ry, she planned something extra special every year on this day knowing it might hold bad memories for me.
But today, every eye in our house is glued to the television. Reporters and cameramen mingle with our family and friends, all of them giving space to the six of us who are so anxiously watching the screen.
Stryker is sitting next to me, wearing his University of Florida hat for maybe the last time. From this day forward, he’ll wear a different hat. One that will shape his future.
“I think you’re more nervous than I am, Dad,” he says, putting his hand on my leg to stop it from shaking.
I nod my head, trying to hold back the tears of pride that I feel for this incredible young man.
His three younger sisters sit on the floor in front of us, all holding hands as we wait impatiently.
Rylee comes out of the kitchen, laughing. “You guys are a sight,” she says, coming to stand next to me.
I pull her down onto the couch and grab her hand. “What if Arizona takes him? I don’t want him to go there. Or Washington. Anywhere else but those two.”
Everyone knows I despise both of the teams we lost the World Series to when I was playing. I look down at the ring I got from the one we did win. I wonder if Stryker will wear such a ring someday.
Then I look at my wife. She’s still one of the two most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. She gave me three gorgeous daughters. And when our third girl was born, Rylee insisted on naming her Tara. By chance, our first two daughters were named Nina and Ana. When Rylee realized it, she said she wanted to honor the first woman I loved by spelling out Nat’s name with the first letters of our daughters’ names.
She never ever lets me forget the two I lost. And I love her for it more than she will ever know.
And as much as I want Stryker to follow in my footsteps professionally, the one thing I truly wish for him is that he find a woman like his mother. If he can do that, it’s better than winning the World Series; more rewarding than pitching a perfect game.
“Oh, come on,” Rylee says. “You know you want the Hawks to take him. You want it so badly you can taste it.”
“Shhhh,” Ana says. “They are starting up again.”
The MLB commissioner takes the podium. “For the third selection of the MLB draft, the Arizona Diamondbacks select the center fielder from James Madison High School, Nelson Menendez.”
I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Dad. It’s fine,” Stryker says. “If Washington picks me, I’ll ask to be traded.”
Then I watch as he shakes his head and mouths ‘No I won’t’ to his sisters as they laugh.
Rylee squeezes my hand. I lean over and whisper to her. “I’ve waited my whole life for this moment.”
“I know you have.”
A few minutes later, when the commissioner takes the stage again to announce the first pick for the Hawks, I get up, needing to pace behind the couch because I have too much nervous energy. Rylee’s right, I want this so badly. I want his story to be the same as mine, but also different. I’ve done everything I can to protect him all these years. And now he’s going out into the world.
Rylee comes up behind me, putting her arms around me. “He’ll be okay, Brady. He’ll be okay wherever he goes. He’s just like his father. He’s strong, resilient, loving. He’s you.”
“He’s us,” I say, pulling her around to kiss her forehead.
“For the fourth selection of the MLB draft, the New York Nighthawks pick the right-handed pitcher from the University of Florida, Stryker Taylor.”
Stay tuned for the next book in The Perfect Game series.
Fall 2018
***
What if your BFF was baseball’s hottest star?
Go back to where the Nighthawks started.
CATCHING CADEN – Book one in The Perfect Game Series
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Already familiar with Caden? Try the Mitchell sisters.
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