Page 147 of Paper Hearts

Theo did make him that way, but Ender’s breaking the cycle and learning to let others love him in ways he wasn’t taught to accept.

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“Doyou think Imma hit a home run?”

“In T-ball?” Ender laughs, handing Eddie her mitt. She’s so stinking cute dressed in her navy blue Bull Dogs T-shirt, gray baseball pants, and navy blue socks. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and every time she walks, her hair sways. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.”

Ender leans down and picks her up in one swift movement to carry her over his shoulder. “But if anyone can do it, it’s my little Eddie Rose.”

Eddie giggles. “Daddy, my panties are up my butt now.”

He sets her down when we approach the rest of the team. Did I mention Ender’s the coach? He is. And let me tell you, there’s nothing hotter than watching Ender in catcher’s gear. Him coaching five- and six-year-olds how to play baseball. His patience is unheard of. I can see it on his face that they drive him crazy at times, but he’s so good with them.

My parents are at the game, separately and barely talking. Arya and Roman show up, as does Lana.

As the game gets started, I hold Booker for the first time in months. “He’s grown so much,” I tell Arya, holding Booker up in front of me. His feet kick and he grins at me, trying to chew his fists.

“I know,” Arya gushes, straightening out his shirt that’s barely covering his belly. “He’s finally growing into his massive head.”

I laugh and we sit on the bleachers together after I take a million pictures of Eddie. She’s up to bat first and sadly, she doesn’t hit a home run, but she does make it on base.

My dad comes to sit next to us during the game while Arya changes Booker.

I haven’t seen my dad much lately, and I think it’s because I’m dating Ender. He doesn’t approve. Regardless, it’s good to see him. Though he and my mom are civil, he hasn’t exactly been around as much as he should have been after the divorce.

“How’s writing going?” Dad asks, watching Ender try to teach the kids not all of them have to run for the ball when it’s hit. Some need to stay on their base.

“It’s good,” I tell him with a sense of pride. “I’m working on a new book. Should be out sometime next year.”

“I’m so proud of you, Hadleigh,” he whispers, with more emotion than I thought someone like him would show.

“Thank you.”

“How’s the house coming?”

I smile. “We move in next week. The builders are still finishing up the outdoor kitchen and there were some things they needed to fix during the walk through.”

“I saw it when I was out a couple weeks ago working on a job nearby. Ender showed me it.”

“What?” My lips part, unprepared. “What? He didn’t say anything to me.”

Dad shrugs, half smiling. “We had a good talk. He does good work.”

“Oh, the tile, right.” I can tell you what else he does good work with but I won’t go into that with my dad. “He did the kitchen and bathrooms for them.”

“I saw. I like the backsplash. Nice design.”

I’ve never heard my dad give much credit to anyone in the way of compliments.

“I wish you would give him a chance to make it right,” I note, nodding to Ender who’s trying to show a kid he doesn’t have to knock the whole T over to hit the ball and almost gets hit in the face with the bat.

Dad sighs and reaches for his water bottle beside him. “Hadleigh, I think he did make it right. In his own way, he made it right.” He gives a tip of his head, an approval of sorts. “But like I said, you are my baby girl. You can’t forget that. I didn’t want to see you get hurt like I knew you would have been.”

“Sometimes the hurt is what we need to grow.”

Dad chuckles. “Quite the poet now, huh?”

I laugh it off and draw our attention to Eddie. Ender is trying to get the kids not to all run for the ball again. Eddie is the only one who doesn’t. She’s sitting on third base. Literally. Eating a pouch of apple sauce. Apparently it’s snack time for her.

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