Liz recited the numbers, still feeling as if she were having an out-of-body experience.
“It’s great you’re back,” Pia told her. “Let’s go to lunch or something and catch up. And think about that signing.”
The two women parted. Liz continued to walk toward the park by the lake. She was sure she looked completely normal on the outside, while on the inside, she was more than a little confused.
Pia O’Brian friendly? How was that possible? Liz did believe in a person’s ability to change, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to accept a full-blown miracle.
“I’VE NEVER HEARD OF THE Fool’s Gold Mountaineers,” Tyler told Ethan as they found their seats.
They were both carrying hotdogs and drinks. Ethan kept his eye on the boy to make sure Tyler didn’t trip, but the eleven-year-old didn’t seem to have any trouble navigating through the sparse crowd. They settled three rows up from the field, about a third of the way from home plate to first base.
“They’re a short season A league team,” Ethan said, then tugged on the brim of Tyler’s new scarlet baseball cap. “You know what that means?”
“They don’t play a long season?” Tyler asked with a grin.
“Very good. You’ve heard of Triple A and Double A minor league baseball, right?”
The boy took a bite out of his hotdog and nodded.
“This is another kind of minor league team. Their season runs from early June to early September. The opener was last week.”
“You go to a lot of games?”
“I get here when I can.”
“Mom and me went to see the Giants play a few times. That was real fun. There were a lot more people than here.”
“Fool’s Gold is a lot smaller than San Francisco.”
Tyler picked up his drink. “Mom takes me to lots of stuff. Museums, which sound really bad, but sometimes are fun. We go to the children’s theater and we saw the Lion King musical twice.” He swallowed some of his soda. “I’m kinda old for Disney, but it was still pretty sweet.”
Ethan stared at his son and tried not to let himself think about all the years that had been lost. There was no win in that. He told himself to focus on this moment, and let the rest take care of itself.
At least Tyler seemed ready to accept him. Liz hadn’t turned her son against him—which he probably should appreciate. Of course if she hadn’t kept Tyler from him, it wouldn’t be an issue.
“Do you like school?” he asked.
“Uh-huh. I really like math. I’m good at it. Mom says I get that from you.” The boy frowned. “That’s so weird. I never knew who she meant when she said that. But now, I’ll know she means you.”
Tyler grinned, then took another bite of his hotdog.
“I’m good at sports, too,” he added, when he’d chewed and swallowed. “Mom says she’s a klutz.” He hesitated. “That means she’s not really coordinated.”
“Thanks.”
Tyler beamed. “I didn’t know about you riding bikes and stuff. Now I’m going to ride my bike more.”
“Maybe we can ride together sometime.”
Tyler’s eyes widened. “Could we? Sweet! But you’ll go really fast and beat me. That’s okay. I’ll get better as I grow. That’s what Mom always tells me. That I’m good now and I’m going to get better.”
That was the pattern, Ethan thought grimly. Whatever they were talking about, Tyler had a story about his mother. A positive, supportive example of what a great mother she’d been. Their closeness was a good thing, or so he tried to convince himself.
“Mom says you build windmills. The kind they use for electricity. Can I come see?”
“Sure. We have a wind farm outside of town. We can go there, and you can see where I build them.”
“They’re really big, right?”
“Bigger than you can imagine.”
The game started, distracting Tyler. After they’d stood for the national anthem, they settled back in their seats. Tyler asked about Ethan’s family and the construction business. Ethan told a couple stories from when he’d been younger. The afternoon sped by and when the game ended Ethan had the sense that he knew his son better, along with a certainty that knowing Tyler was going to change his life forever.
They walked back to Liz’s old house.
“If the Mountaineers win this season, they don’t get to go to the World Series,” Tyler said.
“No, but the good players will be moved up in the league and maybe get to play in the majors.”
“I can hit pretty far,” his son told him. “I don’t catch so good.”
“We could practice,” Ethan suggested.
“Yeah?” Tyler grinned. “Mom tries, but she throws like a girl.” His eyes twinkled. “Although I’m not ’posed to say that. She gets mad. One time she told me this whole long story about girls having different hips and how they walk differently and it makes it harder for them to throw like a guy. I sort of understood what she was saying, but then I asked what her hips had to do with her throwing and she got mad.”
Ethan chuckled. “I’m sure she did.”