look at the backyard, run my
hand along the slide.
âGoodbye,â I say.
I walk back into the house, and I help my dad load the china cabinet into the car. It is
heavy and cuts into my hands as I lift it. Iâm nervous about dropping it.
Aunt Valâs daughter comes out of the house. I want to scream at her for selling off this
enormous part of my childhood, but I donât. I continue tying down the cabinet, tell her
goodbye and get into the car.
We pull out of the driveway and drive down the street for the last time.
I speak effusively with my dad on the way home. I talk about the kids. I talk about work.
I talk about the Dodgers, and I ask lots of questions about when I was a kid. I want to
cherish this time with him, make the most of it. I donât want to waste any of the time we have
together.
When we get to their house with the china cabinet, my mom asks me how it was being at Aunt
Valâs house.
âTough,â I say.
She understands.
We unload the china cabinet. My dad hugs me tightly and thanks me for helping with him. I
tell them that I love them and I drive home, silent and alone.
Chapter 2. Ready Or Not, Here I Come!
I stand in the kitchen making dinner, and listen through the open window to my stepkids
playing whiffle ball in our front yard. Theyâre actually playing nicely together, not being
overly competitive. Itâs a rarity these days, and I enjoy hearing them have fun together. It
takes me back to simpler, happier times.
Nolan stands over a patch of dirt which represents home plate, while Ryan hurls the ball
toward him.
Ryan always tries to throw the ball too hard (and usually has trouble finding the strike
zone,) so Nolan just sits there, letting the ball bounce off the house behind him.
Nolan comes in for a drink of water and I tell him, âIt sounds like you guys are having a
great time out there. Tell you what: you keep up this good attitude and Iâll come out and play
with you.â
Nolan does a little hop and says, âCOOL!â before he runs back outside. I hear him tell
Ryan, âWil says heâll come play with us!â
Theyâre both excited to play with me . . . thatâs cool. Iâve been really busy these past
few weeks, finishing up my first book, Just A Geek , so I havenât been
able to spend very much time with my family, at all. The kids are getting to that age where
they want to hang out one minute, and the next minute Iâm so incredibly uncool they canât even
stand to be in the same room as me. Hearing the genuine excitement in their voices makes my
heart swell.
Dinner is really easy tonight: Itâs a curried-tofu-with-rice dish. I put the rice into the
rice cooker, cut the tofu into cubes and put them in the pan. I dump a bunch of curry over
them, ask Anne to keep an eye on the stove, and race out to play.
Iâm a 30 year-old stepfather, and Iâm racing through my âchoresâ to go play outside. I
smile.
When I get there, one of Ryanâs friends (who is also named Ryan) has come over to play, so
we immediately separate into teams: Nolan and me against the Ryans.
Nolan steps back up to the plate and Ryan proceeds to walk him. He then walks me, then
Nolan again and we quickly load the bases with ghost runners. The sun is rapidly sinking into
the mountains to the west and the ball is getting hard to see, so I suggest that we call the
game so the Ryans can have a few at-bats. Nolan agrees. We send our ghost runners back down to
Triple-A, and take our outfield positions on the grass and in the street.
Nolan pitches a few balls to Ryan, but itâs really too dark to play any longer. Like every
other time weâve had to call a game on account of darkness, I resolve to install lights over
our front lawn so we can play at night, local building codes and my wifeâs desire for a normal
suburban house be
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