Page 79 of Home Safe

“And you’re giving him all the everyday forever moments,” Griffin says tenderly. “How have things been going since the most recent therapy appointment?”

“Up and down,” I say, sitting back a little. “We had our first appointment with the occupational therapist, and she’s going to teach me some of the exercises to do at home with him as well.”

“Will you see both of them every week?” he asks.

I frown slightly. “Maybe? I need to figure things out as far as how much we can do.”

Griffin’s brow furrows. “What’s the hangup?”

Shrugging, I say, “Nothing’s covered once he's on my insurance after the adoption is finalized. So I need to plan everything out and set up a reasonable schedule with Jessica and the OT when we get back home. Speaking of home, when will you actually fly back to KC?”

“Unfortunately, not soon enough,” he says. “We still have one game left here the day you leave, and then we fly to Texas for two exhibition games. We’ll only have a couple of days back in KC before the home opener. Thank goodness our first series is at home this year. I don’t think I could handle seeing you and then immediately having another two-plus weeks apart.”

“Thank your season scheduler for me,” I tease. “They might be saving my sanity. Which will already be stretched to the limit watching so many baseball games this week.”

Griffin gives me a mischievous look. “No closer on converting you to a fan, huh?”

Slowly shaking my head, I smirk back at him, causing his eyes to narrow.

“Good thing I’m finding another passion, then,” he says, voice nearing growl territory as he leans toward me. “Another very enticing passion.”

Our lips find each other like two oppositely charged elements that can’t stay apart. That won’t stay apart. That don’twantto stay apart.

Chapter thirty-two

Griffin

Taking another step off the base, I analyze the pitcher’s cues. We’re currently tied 3–3 at the top of the ninth with two outs against us, and I’ve been sitting at second ever since I hit a double. I’m contemplating stealing my way to third to give us a better chance at a run scored to possibly give us the win.

I haven’t even attempted stealing any bases throughout all of spring training. It’s as though my mind is averse to the physical sensation of my shoulder stretching out in a dive. But having Danae and Jason here these past few days watching us play—watchingmeplay—has bolstered my confidence. Hearing them praise my good performance each evening together has brought back some of the swagger that drained out in the aftermath of last season’s injury.

I’m pretty sure I have a good read on this pitcher’s habits, and I’m fairly confident that I could successfully steal the base. The third base coach has signaled the same, giving me that extra assurance. Making up my mind, I watch for the right moment and take off sprinting.

I focus on pumping my arms, on the grip of the dirt beneath my cleats, on the oxygen in my lungs, so that when the time comes to slide, my body dives without thinking about my shoulder. The crowd roars as the umpire signals “safe,” and I leap to my feet in celebration. As subtly as I can, I look up to the seats I know Danae and Jason are occupying,grinning when I see Danae holding Jason in her arms, jumping up and down.

The team celebration is exuberant when Adrian bats me in for a score, giving us the lead. Our next batter strikes out, which means it’s time for some good defense to close out the game. My eyes can’t help but find Danae’s in the stands as I jog to position, heart seizing when I see her on her feet clapping.

I need to get that woman a West jersey.The thought of looking up in the stands to see Danae wearing number eleven gives me an extra push of motivation to finish this inning with a win.

Our closer strikes out the first batter, getting us one step closer to victory. When the second batter makes contact with a curveball, I know it’s coming to me. Shuffling two steps toward second base, I catch the ball before it can hit the ground, gaining the second out. Adrenaline floods through my body, setting all of my reflexes on high alert.

The next batter has a count of three balls and two strikes, meaning this next pitch could be the decider. That familiarcrackof the bat resounds through the stadium, and the ball is a pop fly a little above my territory. I start running that way but hear Ethan calling for the ball, triggering an alarming sense of déjà vu in my body. Exhaling a breath, I pull up and back down, allowing him to make the final catch and out of the game.

I slap Ethan on the back and say, “Great catch, Farmer!” He claps me back, recognizing the moment, and I’m bordering on emotional. Thankfully, Adrian snaps me out of it by using my shoulders as a springboard to launch himself up, jumping piggyback on me with his fist in the air.

This will be the latest addition to the Ortiz/West compilation videos,I think as I laugh and run to the dugout with him on my back.Hopefully Jason’s getting a kick out of this.

For as much as I’ve loved getting to know Danae (and probably fallinginlove with her), connecting with Jason has been a close second on the enjoyability scale. I’ve yet to witness one of his big blow-ups firsthand, although it’s easy to imagine, knowing how sensitive and emotional he is. I'd witnessed the full gamut of behaviors in our homeas I grew up with a revolving door of kids in foster care coming in and moving on.

I know that being in his life long term wouldn’t be smooth sailing. I’ve watched Sam and Ian work through the hard stuff, watched my parents support them, even been a closer support specifically for Sam. Listening to her process the trauma she endured, watching her fight to change her brain’s natural reactions to triggers—I understand, at least in some sense, what it will be like to be one of the main players supporting Jason’s lifelong journey.

And I want it.

Spending time just the three of us this week, after so long apart, has illuminated how right it feels to be together. I want to help that effervescent, enthusiastic little guy grow up and forge his own path. I want to be there to listen when he’s had a hard day, to assist his mind in calming down when something triggers a memory. To let Jason know he’s loved no matter what he does.

It’s as though my past experiences—our family doing foster care, welcoming Sam and Ian into our family, even interacting with the kids at Camp Wizard—have been the breadcrumbs guiding the way and opening my heart to a life with Danae and Jason. I want to walk into the hard alongside Danae, to be a team.

I only hope she wants that as much as I do.

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