“C’mon, Bug, let’s see it.” I hold my arms out wide for him. “Come get me.”
Isaiah pries his fingers away, but holds on for a moment, letting Max balance himself before he fully lets go. This is typically the time Max crumbles to his butt to crawl, but he keeps his eyes right on me, wobbly knees trying to keep him upright.
No one speaks. It’s utter silence on a field that only moments ago was rowdy as hell with a baseball team giving each other shit. Now, they simply stand behind me, waiting on pins and needles for a sixteen-month-old to make his move.
“Max.” I gesture with my hands. “Come on. You’ve got it.”
Hands in the air to balance himself, he shakily steps his right foot forward. It touches the ground before he does the same with the left.
I can feel the smile widening on my face. “There you go. You’re doing it! Keep going!”
The boys behind me are stirring with excitement. The anticipation feels similar to that of an important ninth inning when we’re down with our best batter at the plate, looking for a walk-off win. I figured for them, it’s simply a toddler’s first steps. But for me, it’s the not so gentle reminder that he’s good. He’s growing and I’m not messing everything up. So, even though I’ve been waiting for this day for months, I didn’t realize the boys would be just as excited as I am.
I once assumed I didn’t have anyone there to celebrate the good moments with, and I couldn’t have been more wrong. I’ve had these guys the whole time.
Max is flailing about like one of those blow-up guys you see at a car dealership, but he’s able to maintain his stability. He steps forward with his right foot, wobbles, and steadies himself before bringing his left foot forward too.
“Yes, Max!” The first cheer resounds behind me.
“Good job, Max.” The smile on my face is splitting. “Two more big steps and you’re here.”
God, my chest could burst from the amount of pride that’s flowing through me. He’s doing it. He’s really fucking doing it.
Then his little feet, decked out in checkered Vans, take two more steps onto home plate, right into the cradle of my outstretched arms.
The team goes nuts behind me.
“So good, Bug!” The laugh I exhale is full of relief as I hug him close to my chest, covering him in kisses.
When I stand with him in my arms, the boys cheer louder than I’ve ever heard. The noise is almost deafening as they jump onto each other, pushing one another in the chest like we just won some massive game or something.
“Let’s fucking go!” Isaiah tosses his head back, arms out wide.
I’ll remind him about cussing in front of my kid later; for now, I want to celebrate.
The noise is too much for him and Max’s face melts, his lower lip wobbling before he lets out a giant wail.
“Oh buddy,” I soothe, trying to cover up my chuckle. I pull him into my chest, running a hand over his hair. “It’s okay. They’re just excited for you.”
The cheers settle immediately. It takes a second but soon enough, Max’s face pops off my shoulder to look at them all once again and his chubby-cheeked smile is back, though his blue eyes are rimmed in red.
The boys cheer again, keeping their volume at a less frightening level, and as they smother my son with attention, I glance over my shoulder, looking for Miller.
She was standing with Monty, but now he’s alone.
“Take him for a minute,” I tell my brother, handing off my son.
I slip behind the batting cage, headed straight for my coach. “Where’d she go?”
An annoyingly knowing smile lifts on his lips. “She just left. Asked me if practice was over and said she figured you wanted to take Max home with you.”
Before he can add any more, I take off to the dugout, jumping over the stairs and jogging down the hallway where she originally came from. I can see the frayed hem of her cut-off overalls as soon as I’m in the tunnel that leads to the offices, clubhouse, and eventually the parking lot.
“Miller! Hold up.”
She turns on her heel as I continue to chase after her, the spikes from my cleats clattering against the floor.
“Where are you going?”
She throws a thumb over her shoulder, gesturing towards the parking lot. “Home.”
Home.
“I mean, to your house,” she corrects from down the tunnel.
I keep jogging and as soon as I can reach her, I pull her into my body, both arms wrapping around her shoulders. “Did you see him?” I ask, my words slightly muffled against her hair. “Did you see him walk?”