Page 26 of Catch Me (Becoming Us #4)

Travis

As I made a knot at my back, or tried to, I chuckled to myself. There was something about this part that gave me a childish sort of amusement.

I didn’t need to wear the apron, but the ladies here seemed to get a kick out of it, and it made me feel official. Most of the other guys refused, so it also made me stand out. I’d never claimed not to enjoy the occasional spotlight.

“Let me do that,” Barbara said, swatting my hands away.

“I’m doing just fine.”

“You’re makin’ a mess of it. Then, when you try to get it untied, you’ll come crying to me because your knot’s stuck.”

Hiding my smile, I let her take over. “It’s impossible to make a good one when I can’t see it.”

She snorted. “Women have been doing it for thousands of years. Try braiding your own hair.”

“Maybe it’ll get long enough. I’ll have to call you before every game and beg for your help. ”

She finished the knot and came around to stand in front of me.

There was a soft look in her eyes despite her scolding.

I’d never met my grandma, but from the stories my grandpa used to tell me, I thought she would’ve been like this—stern but highly capable and full of love that she showed in her own way.

The team volunteered here once a year during the holidays, but I’d been doing it on my own since I moved here.

I only talked to Barbara and the other volunteers when I came by, but there was a comfortable familiarity between us.

If I ever saw them out in the wild, I’d invite them to have a coffee or lunch with me, then we’d go our separate ways until the next time we came here at the same time.

Barbara and her husband ran this place, but he’d been battling cancer for the past six months, and I could see that she was tired.

“Let me do that,” I said before she could pick up a pot of chili.

She tried to argue, but I ignored her. I knew that she was capable. It didn’t matter, though. She had an entire team here to help her today, so she was going to take a step back whether she liked it or not.

“Luis!” I called. “Tell the guys to get their asses in here. We have things to set up.”

Some of them grumbled, but most of them didn’t mind the work.

It wasn’t mandatory , but management didn’t like if anyone didn’t show up.

It looked good for us to be in the community, giving back to those who supported us.

The suits were probably only concerned with the good press, but that was okay. We were still doing something good.

I settled the pot into its place and lifted the lid to get a whiff. Summer cleared her throat, shooting me a look.

“I’m not gonna eat it all,” I said. “Just making sure it’s not toxic.”

“And how would you know?”

“I have a good sniffer.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Mom always says to keep an eye on you so you don’t get into trouble.”

“Trouble? I’m an angel.”

“They’re the most mischievous, don’t you know?”

“I never learned that in Sunday school. The church keeping secrets? ”

With a laugh, she started stacking trays and organizing utensils. “I think a little mischief keeps the world going ’round.”

“I like the way you think, Summer.” Looking up at the ceiling, I listened as the heavy tapping picked up speed. “It’s raining like a dog out there.”

“Better get people in here quickly.”

The guys got the rest of the line set up with food, and they started to talk as we waited for the doors to open.

I pulled out my phone, remembering that I hadn’t told Roman I’d be gone.

It wasn’t like he’d care, but I was always taught to keep people updated.

Since I wouldn’t be home until late, it seemed like the polite thing to do.

Trav: Won’t be home for dinner. If you want, I can order something for you

Roman: I’m not a kid

I smiled. It was like I could hear the snark in his voice.

Slipping my phone into my pocket, I thought about the times I’d said the same thing to my mom.

I was a kid at the time, but I’d thought I was more mature than I was.

At practice, she’d always get on my ass about texting her when I’d be back.

And any time she was late from work or she and my dad went out, she’d do the same.

Leave the light on until we get back , she’d say.

Unless we were all safely inside the house, the porch light would be on.

Even if I got home before the sun went down, I’d see that light next to the front door and know that she was waiting for me.

It was still a habit for me to flip it on before I left the house, no matter what time it was.

A bell chimed as Barbara opened the door. There was a line outside, and I felt bad that they’d been waiting in the cold.

As the first person came up, I smiled at her. “Hey, we’ve got the best chili in this city. You ever had it?”

The woman nodded tentatively. “Barb’s been doing this for thirty years.”

“And she deserves the world for it.”

She agreed softly, then moved down the line. I talked to the people who would respond to me, and with every person that came through, I felt more full of warmth and joy .

Suddenly, Barbara came up on Summer’s other side and said something in her ear. Her daughter’s face pinched, but she just nodded. After kissing her on the cheek, Barbara grabbed her coat and headed outside.

“Everything alright?” I asked after a few minutes.

Summer jumped a little, as if she’d been spaced out. “It’s just Dad.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

After she served the last person, she sighed and turned to me. “He’s not responding to the chemo. He’s old, so they expected him to be weak, but his scans were worse this week. For the past couple days, he’s been in the hospital.”

“I’m sorry. Why don’t you go with your mom?”

“Someone has to run this place. I’d be with him every second if I could, but... I can’t stand the thought of going while Mom is here, dealing with it all alone.”

“You have to take care of yourself too. What if you hired someone to help?”

She shook her head. “It’s not like we make more than we need to live. This place runs through donations, mostly.”

Without another word, she snapped off her gloves and headed into the back to grab more food for the next round of people.

Her story resonated with me, and it felt like a physical weight. Too often, I had to remind myself that I couldn’t help everyone.

Maybe.

Well, who got to decide that?

“Cover me,” I told Mikey.

He raised a curious brow, but I just pulled off my gloves and stepped away from the serving area. The dining hall was pretty loud, and just seeing everyone having a hot meal—people who didn’t get that luxury most days—reinforced my belief in humanity.

As I was about to pull out my phone, a man approached me. I looked at him, then my gaze moved to his side where there was a kid, not older than eight. His eyes held something like fear, and it made me drop into a crouch to be at his level.

“Hey,” I said with a smile. “Did you get enough to eat?”

He hid behind his dad’s leg, keeping his gaze on the floor.

“Sorry, he’s shy,” the man said .

“Don’t apologize for it. I’m no stranger to being scared.”

“He’s a huge fan. Just a minute ago, he was begging to meet you, but now...”

“I may be big, but I’m very nice. I promise.” The kid still seemed too freaked out to say anything. Humming thoughtfully, I straightened. “Hold tight.”

Pulling out my keys, I jogged until I reached my Jeep. I swung open the passenger door and grabbed the glove that was on the seat, along with the ball. When I returned to the kid and his dad, both of their eyes widened. Slipping the glove on, I tossed the ball in the air, then caught it.

“Do you have a glove?” I asked.

“No,” the boy said in a timid voice.

“Well, guess what? I’m due for a new one.”

“Really?”

I tugged it off and held it out to him. Tentatively, he took it and wiggled his small fingers into it.

“I think you’ll grow into this one real nicely. Here, catch.”

I tossed the ball underhand, and it landed directly in the glove. The kid smiled, which brightened his eyes.

“It might have some dog slobber on it,” I said. “It still works just as good, though.”

“Are you sure?” his dad asked.

“Yeah, a little dog slobber doesn’t hurt.

” I winked at the boy, which made him laugh.

“I only have one condition. When I was a kid, my dad threw the ball with me every day. My mom had to drag us back inside for dinner, and she always got on me about the dirt under my nails and on my face. If you’re gonna keep the glove, you have to use it, alright?

Exercise that throwing arm, and never let yourself get discouraged.

The only way to get to the top is to keep climbing, especially when it’s hard. Got it?”

“Got it.” He jerked his chin down in a determined nod.

“Then it’s yours. What’s your name?”

“Carl.”

“I’m Travis, but you probably know that, huh? Have you been to a game before, Carl?”

“No.”

“Do you have a phone?” I asked his dad.

“Uh, yeah. ”

He pulled one out, and I took it from him, plugging my number in. I sent myself a text so I’d be able to contact him.

“When our first home game rolls around next season, I’m gonna get you the best seats, alright?”

“You really don’t have to do that, Mr. McKinney.”

“If I had to, it wouldn’t mean much. You never forget your first game. I’m telling you, it can change your life.”

His eyes were misty, and I had to push back my own emotions.

I could remember my first game clearly. It had been with both of my parents and my grandpa, back home in Texas.

It was that win against the Yankees that got the Rangers to the World Series that year.

Once Féliz struck out Rodriguez, I decided I wanted to be him.

The energy in the stadium became electric, and at nine years old, it had woken my drive to be down on that field someday, experiencing the same level of joy.

“Hey, I’m about to start a fundraiser for this place,” I told them. “Y’all wanna get a picture with me for the cover?”

Carl nodded enthusiastically, flashing me a toothy grin. I came up behind him and crouched. He held up his hand with the glove, still holding the ball in it. I snapped a picture of us, then stood and lifted him onto my shoulders. After getting one of the three of us, I helped him down.

“Do you guys have a place to go?” I asked.

“We have a studio down the road. It’s not much, but we’ve been off the streets for a year.”

“Just you two?”

He glanced at his son, who was tossing the ball in the air and catching it.

“His mom and I struggled with heroin.” His eyes fell to the floor, and I squeezed his shoulder to encourage him to go on.

“I got clean. She tried, but... well, she’s locked up right now for possession. So, yeah, just me and Carl.”

I nodded my understanding. “What do you do?”

“Uh, I was a math teacher before... Now, I’m doing nights at a ship center.”

“Hm. If I can get you something during the days that pays enough to get you by, would you take it?”

For what felt like the hundredth time, his eyes widened. “I mean, yeah, of course. I’d kill to be home with him at night. But I’ve got a record from when I was using. People don’t exactly like that. ”

I waved my hand. “I’ll vouch for you.”

“But . . . You don’t know me, Mr. McKinney.”

“Just Trav. Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

“Steve.”

“Steve, I know you’re a father who’s battling his own demons to take care of his son. And you’re doing it alone right now. Something I believe is that most people just need a chance, and if they’re given it at the right time, it can change everything. So, tell me. Is it the right time?”

“Yes,” he said immediately.

“Then don’t let pride turn you away. We all fall, man, and there’s no shame in grabbing the hand that’s offered.”

“Thank you. That’s . . . I have no words.”

“Don’t forget there’s dinner and a toy drive next week. Bring Carl by to get something.”

“I will.”

Two of the players, Tom and Jack, walked through the doors together. I ruffled Carl’s hair and held my fist out until he bumped it.

“Amazing to meet you, kid. We’ll see each other next week. Make sure you give that glove a workout, ’kay?”

“I will.”

Heading back to the kitchen, I went up to Tom. “How’d everything go?”

He looked confused. “At the field?” I nodded. “Fine.”

My lips pursed for a second. “Cool. No issues?”

“Why would there be?”

“Dunno. Just checking.”

“Dude’s cool as hell,” Jack noted as he put on some gloves. “I never thought art could be interesting like that. Where’d you find him?”

“Just a chance encounter,” I replied absently.

“A lucky one, I’d say. If he pulls this off, we’ll have the coolest merch next season.”

“He’ll pull it off.”

I took out my phone so I could set up the fundraiser. At this point, I endorsed so many things that people were bound to get tired of philanthropy, but even a little bit of money would help Barbar a and Summer. Maybe I could squeeze a donation out of the Braves. Good publicity and all that.

After sending the link to all of the players, I posted it on my socials. I navigated to my messages and wondered if I should check in with Roman. Since he was done at the field, he was probably driving back. He didn’t need me to make sure he got to the house safely.

I locked the screen, then immediately unlocked it.

Trav: Careful out there. Atlanta drivers are balls to the wall at all times. Zero chill

Roman: I know. I’ve ridden with you

I smiled as my fingers flew across the screen.

Trav: Texas, born and raised. Best drivers in the country

When he sent a cowboy emoji, I laughed, drawing a look from one of the guys.

Trav: I left the porch light on so you don’t get scared or stub a toe

When he thumbed up the message, I put the phone away and looked around. Tom had taken my spot, so I decided to converse with the visitors. I might end up finding more causes to join, but at this point, I figured that was inevitable.