Page 5

Chapter five

Danae

G etting ready for the second day of camp goes much more smoothly. Jason is awake bright and early, dressed and eager to go half an hour before we need to leave. He spends the extra time spouting off every stat about Griffin West that he can remember.

“Did you know that Griffin West’s nickname is the ‘Wizard of Defense’ because his fielding is out of this world? Hey! I bet that’s why the camp is called ‘Camp Wizard,’ don’t you think?

“You wanna know when Griffin West got drafted? He was only a junior in college—he didn’t even finish college before they wanted him to play! Isn’t that cool?!

“Can you believe that Griffin West only played on the farm team for four years before the Crowns called him up to the big leagues?”

I try to sound like I’m listening by adding in, “Oh wow,” or “How interesting” each time he takes a breath. But really, I’m tuning out all the baseball talk and thinking about what it was like to meet Griffin West in the flesh yesterday.

And making a total fool out of myself by not knowing who he was.

I’ll admit, when Samantha led me down the hallway and I first caught sight of him, I was drawn to the attractive, smiling man standing in front of me.

His athletic build—not overly muscular but very fit, with firm-looking biceps and sturdy quads—should have been my first clue that he was, in fact, an athlete.

But it’s not like he was wearing his jersey.

Are they called jerseys in baseball? Uniform?

He was wearing a blue Camp Wizard shirt and a baseball cap, giving no indication that he was anything more than a regular volunteer.

As we'd walked toward him, his smile widened in a way that can only be described as “charming.” In fact, he oozed charm, but not in an artificial way—everything about his smile and interactions seemed genuine.

Then, he shared the story about his heartfelt moment with Jason, as though he somehow understood how much I would need to hear that information.

I was definitely drawn to him.

And then I opened my mouth and sounded like an ignorant idiot. I wish I could go back and shake my past self. Or cover her mouth with duct tape.

“Did you know that Griffin West had a batting average of .311 when he got injured? He had just come into his power when—poof—it looked like it might be over for good.”

Jason’s latest fact pulls my attention out of my reverie.

“Wait, what? Griffin West was injured?” I ask.

Jason nods solemnly. “Last spring. Only a month into the season, he hurt his shoulder. Real bad. The replay videos were—” he breaks off speaking and shudders. “I’m glad he’s all right and back on the team again this season.”

I mull this information over in my mind.

This professional athlete apparently came within sight of his career ending, yet he’s still here holding this camp?

Surely the upcoming season must be looming over his head.

I know that’s all I would be able to think about if I was in his position.

Fixating on every possible negative outcome.

Obsessing over every possible preparation.

It’s impressive that he wouldn’t abandon the camp for a year to focus on getting ready for the season.

I’m suddenly very curious to know the “why” behind Camp Wizard. What drove Griffin to create this experience for foster kids? But just as suddenly, I shut down my curiosity. I am not interested in getting sucked into the world of baseball.

Not even by an attractive, charming, thoughtful man. Not if he’s a professional baseball player .

“We’ve gotta go if we want to get there on time,” I tell Jason, shooing him toward the front door.

Twenty minutes later, Jason and several other kids follow a volunteer down the hallway to the practice facility. While I was checking him in, Samantha motioned for me to stick around until she was done.

She turns to me. “So? Do you have your book to go sit and read at a coffee shop all day?”

Laughing, I pull the book out of my bag to show her. “Sure do! I’ll actually get to read my book club book this month. Even if I won’t be able to go to book club to discuss it, at least I’ll get to enjoy the story.”

“Why won’t you be able to go to book club?” Samantha asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh, I don’t really have a lot of babysitting options,” I say.

“I mean, Jason’s only been with me for about a month, so I haven’t looked into it a lot yet.

But most of my closest friends are also teachers at our school, so I’m afraid it might put them in a little bit of an awkward position to watch Jason when they’re school authority figures.

” I sigh. “I’m still figuring things out, I guess. ”

“Give me your phone,” Samantha commands, holding her hand out.

“What? Why?” I ask, eyes narrowed. Yet, I still unlock and hand the phone over to her before she answers.

“I’m putting my phone number in. We all had to pass background checks and take CPR classes to work at the camp this week.

I’d love to watch Jason for you whenever you need it, if you’d feel comfortable,” Samantha says, tapping away on my phone screen.

“He’s such a fun kid, and my schedule is really flexible.

Perk of working for your brother full time. ”

“Oh, Samantha, that’s really kind of you to offer, but I don’t know. Jason’s behavior can be a little bit . . . unpredictable sometimes. I still haven’t figured out how to handle it, to be entirely honest. I would feel terrible putting you in that position,” I slowly explain.

Samantha reaches over to gently touch my arm, eyes full of empathy. “Behavioral outbursts don’t scare me. I understand more than you realize because I’ve been in Jason’s position.”

My expression must show my shock. Samantha smiles and continues, “Griffin’s parents adopted me and my younger brother, Ian, when I was a teenager.

We were in the foster care system for a few years before we wound up with the Wests permanently.

Ian and I had the same underlying trauma that manifested in different ways outwardly.

Not to mention years around other kids in the system.

So trust me when I say that Jason’s behavior couldn’t possibly surprise me. ”

I’m struggling to process all this new information in order to respond, but Samantha seems to understand that as well.

She places her hands on my shoulders, looks me dead in the eyes, and says, “Let me do this for you, Danae. Please. I want you to go to your book club. Or to a coffee shop or out with friends or whatever it is you like to do to keep your cup filled. Jason needs you to be in an emotionally healthy place if you’re going to be there for him in all the ways he’s going to need you for the long haul. ”

Tears sting my eyes again, and I clear my throat before nodding.

“Okay. That absolutely sounds appealing, but . . . would it be too much to ask if we could maybe get lunch together this weekend first, the three of us? I realize that sounds so demanding when you’re trying to do something kind, and I’m sure you have a packed schedule—”

Samantha cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “That’s not demanding. That’s you being a good mom and vetting the people who might be around your kid. I could do lunch on Saturday if that works for you.”

I pause to wipe a tear then huff a small laugh. “Thanks for understanding. Maybe this is the real reason Jason came to this camp—so I could connect with you. Good thing I didn’t withdraw him!”

Samantha raises an eyebrow. “Withdraw? Why would you have done that?”

I grimace. “Um, I hope this doesn’t make you retract your offer, but I hate baseball. As in, I loathe baseball.”

She bursts out belly-laughing. “I mean, I did have a little bit of a clue that you weren’t a huge fan when you had no idea who Griff was yesterday.

I swear I won’t hold it against you. Well, I might hold it against you just a little bit that you hate America’s favorite pastime but not enough to retract my babysitting services. Why do you hate it so much?”

“Long story,” I say, hoping she won’t expect me to share said story. Thankfully, Samantha checks her watch .

“I need to get back there to help, but don’t think you’re avoiding the hot seat forever. I’ll be getting that long story out of you someday,” she says with a smirk.

Unlikely , I think but don’t say. “See you at three,” I say with a smile.