After I managed the herculean task of not hyperventilating and/or fainting, I joined Tess, LaTanya and Brent on the picnic table and watched Mitch, Derek, Brock, Joel, Rex and Billy playing catch.
And that was when I started fretting.
Not because of my crazy life living in a dream world. Not because I’d found out that day my new charges’ insurance was going to suck a huge amount out of my paycheck every two weeks. Not because my day was ending with Mitch playing catch with Billy and us going out to (another) family dinner, this being extended cop family including his partner and his family. Not because I hadn’t heard from Mom and Aunt Lulamae in a while and I knew this meant they’d retreated in order to plot and that did not bode good things.
No, I was fretting because Billy was not really good with a baseball mitt or throwing a ball. This was likely because he’d never tossed a ball with his father. But that wasn’t it either. It was the fact that it was clear he wanted to be good not because he actually wanted to be good but because, I was guessing from his behavior which was openly anxious, he didn’t want to annoy or disappoint Mitch.
And he seemed not to cotton onto the fact that Mitch, nor Brock nor Derek for that matter, were anywhere near annoyed or disappointed. All the men were patient and encouraging, not in an overbearing way, in a natural, calm way that was not penetrating Billy at all. The more they tossed the ball, the more anxious Billy became whenever he missed a catch or threw wild, which was nearly every time.
“This isn’t good,” I muttered as I watched Billy miss another catch that Mitch tossed what would have been straight into his mitt if he hadn’t screwed up his concentration, tried too hard and moved his mitt at the last minute.
“He’ll relax, babe,” LaTanya muttered back. “Remember this is as new to him as it is to you and Mitch.”
“He’s freaking out,” I whispered.
“Totally,” Brent whispered back and I looked at him to see he was concentrating on Billy too. “He’s all wound up.”
“It’s because he thinks Mitch, Brock and Derek are cool but that’s only because Mitch, Brock and Derek are cool and he doesn’t want to be not cool,” Tess explained then she bumped me softly with her shoulder and whispered, “He’ll calm down, Mara. It’ll be okay.
“That’s not it,” I told her.
“That’s totally it,” LaTanya butted in.
I shook my head, thinking about the last day or two and replied, “He’s like a kid robot. It’s not just playing catch. I think he’s wound up all the time.”
“That’s weird,” Brent observed. “You’d think he’d relax, being away from his Dad and someplace safe.”
I silently agreed as I watched Billy throw the ball to Derek, it went way high, Derek leaped and just tagged it before it flew over the tip of his mitt. Billy watched Derek land and his face screwed up so tight, it was hard to watch.
Too hard.
And that was when I was done.
I prepared to make a move to go to him but then I heard Mitch call, “A minute, guys.”
He had his gloved hand pointed to Derek, palm down. Derek tossed the ball to Mitch and Mitch caught it in his glove like it was second nature as he walked toward Billy. When he got to Billy, he crouched low.
Billy took a step back. Mitch’s hand lifted, curled around Billy’s shoulder and he carefully guided the little boy between his opened, bent legs. Mitch spoke to him and Billy’s head tipped down, staring at the grass, concentrating. Then Billy bit his lips. Then Billy’s head jerked and his eyes caught Mitch’s.
I held my breath.
Mitch grinned at Billy. Billy grinned back. Mitch’s hand still at Billy’s shoulder gave him a gentle-rough shake then he straightened and walked away.
Billy licked his lips and took two steps back. Mitch turned and tossed the ball to him and Billy stood still, watched it fall into his glove and he curled the glove around it.
The minute it did, I jumped up, threw my arms straight in the air and shouted, “Whoop! Whoop! Go Billy!”
Billy’s eyes shot to me, shock in them as Brent, Tess and LaTanya jumped up next to me and shouted too. His face cracked into a hesitant smile and his eyes cut to Mitch.
“Right here, Winchell,” Mitch called, slapping the inside of his mitt. “Focus, Bud, keep your eyes on my mitt, don’t think about anything and let go.”
Billy nodded, wound up and let go. The ball flew high and to Mitch’s right but not nearly as far as it had been. Mitch caught it easily and Billy’s face lit into a huge smile as Mitch threw a smile back at him.
“Awesome!” Derek yelled.