Page 88 of Home Run

“D’you know where you need to go?” the driver asked.

“It’s fine, man, thanks. Drop me at the gates and I’ll make my way in,” I replied.

I wasn’t entirely sure where to go, but I’d found the location I needed on the Arlington Cemetery map, so I hoped it was easily signposted and wouldn’t take all morning to walk there.

The driver was correct about one thing, however, it was busy. I hadn’t expected lines to be formed on a Monday in October, but I hadn’t accounted for all the out-of-season tourists. Luckily, there was a separate section at the entrance for tour buses, which is where all these people seemed to have come from and, after flashing my ID, I made my way in without much of a wait.

The section where Millie’s dad was buried was off to the far right of the entrance, the opposite direction to where everyone else seemed to be heading. I didn’t know whether it was the military aspect of Arlington—dressed soldiers dotted about and standing guard, the patriotism of flags flapping in the breeze, or the knowledge that every single white marble gravestone represented someone whohad dedicated their life to our country—but every step I took deeper and deeper into the cemetery felt heavier and heavier.

All I did was hit a ball with a bat.

It was humbling to say the least.

Nerves were stopping me from walking any quicker than I currently was, nerves and a small voice telling me I shouldn’t be here. That it wasn’t my place to visit without permission, that I’d crossed a line somehow and I should have told Millie I was coming. But then I remembered the look on her face after we’d been shopping, when she’d talked about how painful it had been to lose her dad, and my promise to make her my future.

After another fifteen minutes of slow walking, I finally found the row I was looking for. And there, a little more than a third of the way down, was Brady Booker Robinson.

I stopped next to it. Now what?

Glancing around, I couldn’t see anyone else nearby for me to copy the etiquette. Did I sit, did I stay standing, did I kneel? There was enough space between the stones to create privacy, and the ground wasn’t wet. After running through the options, I pulled the jelly beans from my pocket and decided to sit.

I tipped out a handful, picking through the colors and eating all but the orange ones, those I kept hold of. Glancing at my watch, I’d already been gone an hour. Technically we had free time in the mornings, but we always stayed at the hotel. I hadn’t told anyone my plans, so if someone went looking for me and I wasn’t there, then Coach found out…I needed to hurry.

Staring at his name wasn’t helping. Did Millie find this as hard as I did?

I cleared my throat, removed my cap, and scratched through my hair.

“Hello, sir, you don’t know me, but my name is Tanner Simpson and I’m in love with your daughter, Millie.” I rolled my eyes, of course he knew what her name was. “I guess if you were here you’d want to know a little about me. I’m twenty-five, I have three older siblings…though one is my twin, so it doesn’t count…and I play professional baseball. Shortstop. My stats for the current season are—” Nope, he won’t care about that. “Sorry…anyway…the most important thing you need to know about me is that I’m in love with your daughter. I’ve loved her since the first time I laid eyes on her, even though I’m pretty sure she hated me on sight. And let me tell you, she hasn’t been easy to win over either. I’m still not entirely sure I have, I fully expect to be trying for the rest of my life. And I will.

“I have an older sister, not Holiday, my twin, but another one, and I remember this guy she dated in high school, and she brought him home. It was the first time my parents had met him…what I’m trying to say is, I guess if you met me…”Argh,this was so hard. “What I’m trying to say is, I know Millie’s mom wasn’t happy about her being pregnant, and I just wanted you to know that you don’t need to worry…your sons have got you covered on the kicking my ass part. I guess I should be grateful neither of them seem as competent in the spy game as you were, however.” I barked out a loud laugh, before I figured I shouldn’t be laughing in a cemetery and shut mymouth. “But I can promise you that Millie and the baby will want for nothing, and?—”

A shadow fell over the stone.

I’d been so deep in my thoughts, trying to convey my feelings, I hadn’t noticed or sensed anyone approaching.

Scrambling to my feet, I found myself face to face with a woman staring curiously.

“Let me guess? Tanner Simpson.”

I didn’t needanyguesses to know who she was. Same light brown eyes and button nose, high cheekbones, and full mouth. Even if I hadn’t seen a couple of pictures of Millie’s mom around the apartment, I’d have known her anywhere. They were carbon copies.

Picking up my baseball cap I’d left on the ground, I went to put it back on before wondering if it was disrespectful, so I kept it in my grip.

“Mrs. Robinson, yes, ma’am, I’m Tanner Simpson.”

“What are you doing here?” Her eyes dropped to the box of jelly beans I’d also left on the ground. “Does Millie know you’re here?”

I shook my head. “No, no, ma’am. She doesn’t.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

Well…” I tugged on the back of my neck. Scratch everything I said before, it waswayharder addressing a person over a slab of marble, especially when they were looking at me like Millie’s mom was looking at me. “I figured if your husband was alive, I’d be coming to talk to both of you, but still wanted to pay him the respect to ask.”

“Ask what?”

My gaze flicked back to the headstone. I hadn’t gotten to that part yet, the entire reason for my visit.

“Um…I,uh…I was planning to talk to you next, I don’t want you to think I wasn’t or you didn’t matter…” A lump grew in my throat, and I swallowed hard. “I wanted to ask permission to,um, ask Millie to marry me, rather to let you know my intentions to marry her.”

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