Page 10 of Love in the Outfield

10

CADE

I sit on top of a picnic table partially shaded by an old oak tree waiting to meet my son. My son! It’s not lost on me that this is one of those epic once-in-a-lifetime moments. I go from overwhelm to excitement every other second. I lay back with my arms tucked under my head and study the tree. A warm gentle breeze stirs the leaves, creating a soothing rustle, kind of like nature’s lullaby. Which, not gonna lie, I need right about now.

A huge bag loaded down with merch sits in the backseat of my Porsche. A Cutters ball cap, kid-size, a number eight Cutters jersey 2T, a pair of Nike kicks, I guessed at the size, Derby, the Cutters mascot, a large stuffed thoroughbred, a Little Tikes plastic car, and a very cool plastic carrier truck that has small colorful cars loaded inside. I had a little help from Kennedy, my sister-in-law. I threw in some animal crackers and fruit snacks, which I googled to make sure they were safe. I may have overdone it a bit but hey, I have two years to make up for.

I hear Georgia’s car and sit up as she pulls in and parks next to me. I watch her get out and drink in every detail. She’s wearing shorts… ah… I remember those long sexy legs wrapped around me. Her pulled-up hair shimmers in the light, warm and rich, a stunning array of copper and auburn tones. Her ponytail spills down her back like a molten waterfall. She waves to me before reaching in for August. He shrieks with excitement as she hauls him out. I feel an unfamiliar wave of longing settle in my chest. She puts him down and his face is alight with joy.

My stomach and heart are doing funny things watching my son run towards me, if you can call it running. I’d say it’s more of an enthusiastic wobble with slightly uncoordinated energy barreling along. I jump up and move towards him when he stumbles, expecting him to cry but he quickly bounces up giggling and continues towards me, but more importantly, the playground. Now I know what love at first sight feels like.

He points and squeals when he spies the spring riders. There is a cow, a horse, a ladybug and a bumblebee. I wonder which one he’ll pick. He notices me staring at him and stops. I smile and he glances at his mom for reassurance, then grins at me.

I approach Georgia, who is carrying a cooler with our lunch inside. She looks about as nervous as I feel.

“Looks like we have the playground all to ourselves,” she says.

“Yep.”

“Auggie,” she calls.

He ignores her and runs straight towards the spring horse. She rolls her eyes at me. “Sometimes I’m just wasting my breath.”

I laugh.

“Go on over. He’ll let you help him up. Cookie, the pony, is his favorite,” she says.

“You must come here often if you’ve named a playground pony.”

“All the damn time. You try keepin’ an eighteen-month-old occupied. Not an easy task.”

I walk over, crouch down beside August, and stare into the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen outside of my own reflection.

“Hey, August.”

He dimples then says, “Me wide,” while pointing at the low-to-the-ground spring pony. He holds his little arms out for me to lift him and I’m a puddle of feels. I fight the urge to bury my nose in his hair. He’s solid but soft and cuddly… I don’t want to let go. Something inside of me breaks and I’m overcome with emotion. I take a chance and go in for one sniff before setting him on the spring action pony.

He immediately begins rocking so I stand close… just in case. I quickly see that he has excellent balance and motor skills. He has the horse rocking and bobbing like a future rodeo star. Georgia walks up beside me and we watch together.

Her soft smile is full of pride. “He’s big for his age. His pediatrician says he’s in the seventy-fifth percentile.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“Oh, sorry. It means he’s bigger than seventy-five percent of children his age and smaller than twenty-five percent.”

“He’s going to be an athlete,” I say.

“Could be, but I don’t want my expectations to dictate how he lives his life. I want to expose him to everything, ya know?”

“Sure, I get that. I was noticing how balanced he is on the horse. His motor skills seem honed.”

“He is amazing. A bundle of perfection.” She throws her head back, laughing.

“That he is,” I agree.

Auggie looks at me and says, “Me down.”

I’m thrilled that he asked me . May seem like a small thing but to me it’s epic.

Georgia catches my eye and smiles. “Told ya.”

She gets it… she gets me. I set Augs back on the ground and he toddles over to the slide. Laughing over my shoulder I say, “I’m thinking we’re not going to get much talking in today.”

“You have no idea,” she says.

We play non-stop for the next hour. I feel like I’ve run a 5K which is about 45 laps around the baseball diamond. “No wonder you’re in such good shape,” I say. “Who needs a gym.” I live for her laugh. It carries across the summer breeze straight to my heart. It’s light, joyful and very sexy.

She flexes her arms to show off her biceps. I try not to snicker because her arms are so slim… but she is definitely toned.

I nod my head in mock seriousness. “Wow. Laila Ali has nothing on you.”

She shoves me then flexes again holding one arm out. “Feel it, go on, Mr. Smarty-pants.”

I wrap my hand around her upper arm, which completely encircles it. “Wow. Steel beneath the flesh,” I say a snicker escaping.

“Joke all you want. Lifting thirty pounds all the live long day builds muscle.”

“I can see that,” I say solemnly.

“Tease all ya like,” she snips.

“I give you all the accolades. This is a workout.”

Georgia grabs the cooler. “Let’s eat some lunch.”

“I’ll be right back. I have a little something for August.”

“Okay, I’ll pull things out.”

I run to my car and grab the bag of goods then hustle back to the picnic table. Georgia’s eyes go wide when she sees the size of the gift bag. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble,” she says.

“No trouble. It was fun.”

Auggie is now eyeing the colorful bag plastered with dinosaurs. “Mine,” Auggie declares.

“You may as well go ahead and give it to him now or he’ll be havin’ a hissy fit.”

I feel like an overgrown kid. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

I sit cross-legged on the blanket Georgia laid out and pull him onto my lap with the bag in front of us. “What do we have here?” I say as I pull out the plush horse. I mimic a horse and he giggles.

“Auggie, what does a horse say?” Georgia asks as she fusses with the lunch spread.

“Moo.”

“That’s a cow. What does a horse say?”

“Neigh.”

“Good job buddy. What does a pig say?”

“Oink, oink,” he says then giggles.

“He’s a genius!” I laugh as Auggie curiously roots through the bag. “Looky what we have here. A Cutters ball cap,” I say, pulling it out and placing it on top of his head. He swiftly pulls it off, throwing it aside like trash.

“I’m crushed,” I say to Georgia hand on my heart.

She shrugs. “Kids hate to get clothes. Don’t you remember when you were a kid? Didn’t you hate to get practical stuff?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“He’ll like it once the excitement wears down.”

I pull out the Little Tikes car, then the carrier truck with cartoonish cars loaded on it and he shrieks with excitement. “Phew, glad I got something right.”

I leave the snacks in the bag so I don’t spoil his lunch and piss off Georgia. Auggie is very interested in the car set so I take it from him and open the package. Seems to be a hit as he excitedly reaches for them as I pull each one out. He’s making engine and honking noises a car in each fist.

“You did good,” Georgia says. I feel a warm glow from her praise.

“How hungry are you?” she asks.

“I’m almost too hyped to eat but I’m sure I’ll manage. Whatcha got?”

“Potato salad, ham sandwiches, and I made a key lime cheesecake last night.”

“You remembered,” I say trying to catch her eye. “Thank you.”

A light blush creeps across her cheeks. With her hair pulled back her high cheekbones and delicate features are accentuated. Loose tendrils have escaped and curl gently around her cheeks and I resist the urge to brush them back. Patches of sunlight break through the leaves catching strands of her hair. She looks so vulnerable that it brings out all my protective instincts.

She lifts a shoulder. “No big deal. It’s all the things Auggie loves. Potato salad and cheesecake are two of his favorites. He’s a good eater. Not too picky, what you’d call an easy keeper in the horse world.”

Her words say one thing, but her blush gives her away. “Glad he shares my favorites,” I say, letting her off the hook.

She looks at me from under her lush lashes. “Mustard mayo, right?”

I appreciate her subtle acknowledgment and nod. She hands me a plate loaded with a Dagwood-sized sandwich, a mound of potato salad and chips piled high. Auggie looks up from his car and eyes my plate then immediately drops his toys. With a look of determination, he crawls over to me and grunts while pointing at my plate. It cracks me up.

“Manners, August. Say please. You can feed him a bite while I fix his plate. Here’s a spoon.”

“Pees.” He opens his mouth and I give him a small bite of my potato salad. He looks at me with sparkling eyes and an impish grin and says, “Num num.”

Oh my God, this kid. Is he the most perfect being on the entire planet, or what?

While we eat lunch, I’m thinking that if someone were to be looking at us from the outside we’d look like a normal happy little family. I wish it were so.