Page 13 of Run Home

“I’ll take it,” Alice replies. “And I’ll hold you to it.”

Jason groans as Griffin laughs triumphantly.

“I’m telling you—Bowser is the secret weapon,” Griffin says. “He plows through anyone in his way.”

“But I don’t like Bowser,” Jason counters. “And I don’t even think that’s true. It depends what kind of cart you choose.”

“Let’s face it—it all comes down to the skill of the driver operating the controller. I’m just the best,” Griffin declares. “Maybe someday you’ll catch on when you’ve had as many years of practice at Mario Kart as I have.”

Although Griffin’s teasing is all good-natured, I sense Jason’s shift from fun to simmering anger. Nervous that Griffin hasn’t noticed and might escalate the dysregulation, I prepare to suggest we move on to a different activity.

Thankfully, Griffin is even more intuitive than I am sensitive. He says, “Hey, why don’t we pop some popcorn and watch the beginning of the Crowns game until your mom gets back? We should be able to see the first hour before her book club ends.”

Jason is quick to agree, never one to turn down watching baseball. Griffin heads upstairs to get the popcorn, and I scoot closer to Jason on the black leather couch. He switches the massive TV from the game console to the app the Crowns games air on.

“When do you start practicing with your new baseball team for the summer?” I ask Jason. Danae let him join a recreational team this past spring season, but he’s switching to a more competitive team for the summer and fall.

“Next week,” Jason replies.

I look at him, waiting for more. “Aaand?”

“And what?” he asks.

“Are you excited?”

Jason shrugs. An unmistakable sign that he feels lots of things other than just excitement. I offer a subtle chance for him to open up, saying, “I think I’d be nervous to start with a new team, even if I was excited about it. But maybe that’s only me.”

He shifts toward me and says, “Yeah, I think that’s maybe how I feel. I’m excited to play with a better team so I can get better. But what if I’m not as good as everyone else since I haven’t been playing as long? Especially when I have the Wizard of Defense as my stepdad. It will be super embarrassing if I suck.”

“You’re not going to suck,” I assure him. “Sure, you might be a little behind in some areas, but you practice harder than anyone I’ve ever seen. Including that guy,” I say, jerking my thumb toward Griffin as he comes down the stairs.

“Including me what?” Griffin asks. He sets a giant bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. “Are we talking GOATs of baseball again? I’m definitely included then.”

Jason starts spouting off statistics about Griffin’s baseball career relative to other great shortstops. Clearly his nervous system has calmed back down from the roller coaster of frustration over losing and anxiety about joining a new baseball team.

As they argue over the particulars of Griffin’s greatest-of-all-time status, I turn my attention to the TV in time to see Adrian catch a throw for an out at third before firing the ball to second for a double play. Griffin and Jason jump to their feet chanting Adrian’s name, and their enthusiasm makes me grin.

The camera zooms in on Adrian’s smiling face as he points to the left fielder who threw the ball to him, giving credit where it began. Adrian pulls out a salsa-inspired dance move that I recognize from social media, and I can’t help but laugh.

Just before the camera pans away to the next batter stepping up to home plate, Adrian’s smile falters when he looks at the new shortstop, who’s not smiling, despite the two outs. Had Griffin been the shortstop out there, he would have jumped into Adrian’s dance routine without knowing the steps, going off of vibes alone.

This new shortstop is a stick-in-the-mud by comparison.

A pang of sadness shoots through my chest—empathy for Adrian losing Griffin as his second half on the field. Adrian has too much playful energy to not have someone playing along with his antics.

They’re going to have such a good time at the All-Star weekend together. It will be the perfect final hurrah before Griffin is married off.

Pleased with myself for thinking of the idea, I take a handful of popcorn and toss a piece in my mouth. Jason applauds my catch, then attempts the toss until he successfully catches a piece for himself.

The Crowns are up by three runs when we hear Danae’s voice an hour later.

“Down here!” Jason yells, loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear.

Danae’s soft footsteps descend the stairs, and Griffin hurries to meet her at the foot of the staircase. He wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her while she stands on the step, nearly matching his height.

“Bleck! Stop kissing all the time!” Jason whines. Despite his grossed-out facade, his eyes twinkle. Their outward displays of affection are a lifeline for him. After nine years of instability, the new foundation of a steadfast, loving relationship in his life is doing more good than he realizes. It won’t fix everything about his past, or even his future, but it can help a whole lot.

I’m certainly one to know. David and Cinda’s relationship might be the only reason I believe that real, selfless love does exist. Griffin and Danae have affirmed that even more over the past year.