The One (Coming Home To The Grove 3) - Page 23

I think back to all the things I’ve been thinking the last two hours, and I know I have plenty to say to him. “I will,” I promise her.

When the doctor leaves, I run my hand down the side of his face. “Oh, Brody.”

“I’m quitting baseball,” he tells me with a rough, gravely voice. “I can’t live without you, and that’s all there is to it.”

“Oh, Brody. We don’t have to do this now.”

“Yes, we do. I need you to know. I’m going to quit.”

“You must have really hurt your head to be talking like this,” I joke with him.

He shakes his head and then stops suddenly like it’s painful. “I’m serious.”

I’m touching his face, running my finger across his dimple, pushing the hair off his forehead. Anything I can do to keep touching him. “I can't let you do that. I would never want to be the reason you gave up on your dream.”

He yawns. “I don’t want to be the reason you give up on your dreams.”

“We’ll figure out something, Brody. Something to where we both get our dreams.”

And because I can’t resist another minute, I lean in and kiss him and whisper against his lips, “You’re my dream come true, Brody Hall.”EpilogueBrodyI have time off because of my concussion, and I spend it at home in Forest Grove with Rose. Rose is watching me constantly. At first I thought it was because of my concussion and injuries, but after a few weeks, I realize it’s something else. It’s as if she’s wondering if I can be happy here in Forest Grove.

It’s true that I always wanted to play baseball. But now I can feel my dreams are changing. I’m not playing baseball, but everything feels right because I’m with my wife. I figure I’ll go back and play the rest of the season, maybe I’ll go back and play a few more seasons, but even if I don’t, I know I’ve already fulfilled my dreams.

I was successful as a pitcher in the major leagues, and I’ve saved enough already to give Rose the kind of life she deserves. More than that, we’re having a baby and a little boy or girl with Rose is better than anything else in this life I could ever do or have.

I turn the lawn mower in the yard and stop suddenly when I see my wife standing there with her hand on her hip.

I turn off the motor. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. You tell me. My stubborn husband is supposed to be resting, and instead he’s outside doing yard work.”

I walk over to her because I can’t resist her in her pretty dress that is hugging her round belly. I lean down and kiss her stomach before raising up and kissing her. “C’mon, Rose. You can’t expect me to just lie around. And I’m definitely not going to just lie here and let Kyle come and cut it again. You might as well cut off my balls then.”

She laughs. “You know we can’t have that. I’ve sort of grown to like your manhood.”

I circle my arms around her and hold her tight. “I bet you have.”

She pulls back a little and pulls an envelope from her purse. “I want to know!”

I pull the envelope from her hand. “No, you made me promise that if you got weak, I’m supposed to tell you no.”

“So you don’t want to know what we’re having?” she pouts.

I almost rip the envelope open right then, but I stop myself. I want to know, but Rose didn’t. And I don’t want to ruin this for her. “You know I want to know, but I don’t want to ruin this for you. I can wait.”

She leans in and kisses me, and when she has me preoccupied, she jerks the envelope back. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all this, it’s that tomorrow is never promised. I want to know what we’re having, Brody.”

I don’t want to argue with her. I know what she means, and I know how hard it was for her to see me go down like I did from that ball to the head. “If you’re sure, let’s open it.”

She squeals and starts to jump up and down, but I catch her in my arms, swinging her in the air. I walk over to the porch swing and sit down with her in my lap. “Let’s do it.”

She makes a big production of opening the envelope and it’s killing me not to take it from her and rip it open.

With her on my lap, I watch over her shoulder. She opens the envelope, takes out the paper, and unfolds it.

In big bold letters is the word BOY!

We’re having a little boy!

And I cry like a baby. I don’t care what we have, I just want a healthy baby. But knowing that I’m going to have a son to play ball with, to coach, to teach him everything I know, my heart lurches in my chest. I bury my head into my wife’s shoulder. “Thank you, Rose. Thank you for loving me, for giving me grace when I didn’t deserve it, for forgiving me for being selfish and for giving me a son. I love you.”

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