Home Run: A Novel Read Free Page A

to hide the empty bottle, nor did he look around to wonder if anybody was watching. Nobody paid any attention to him in this room. It was out there, in the open air and bright lights under the heavens … that’s when the world paid attention to his every move.
    One hundred and sixty-two games. Those were the moments that mattered. These minutes right now, they were just throwaway minutes when he could do whatever it took to get ready for those games.
    Some days, like today, it took a lot more than it used to.

He hears the screaming and makes sure that Clay is still asleep.
    Some nights are worse than others.
    He holds his breath, thinking that it might help the anger just outside the door go away. He can’t make out the words, but he knows the conversation. Dad sounds like a bulldog. Mom sounds like a bird. But she holds her own.
    Mom always holds her own.
    He waits, listens, wonders if he should rush out there and help her. Wonders if there’s going to be some big crash from Dad’s hand. But Dad never touches her. He shouts and screams, but that’s all.
    It’s enough.
    Sometimes in the morning, Mom will smile and give him a hug and tell him everything’s going to be okay.
    Sometimes she even tells Cory he’s going to grow up to be a great baseball player.
    If he ever does, it’ll be because of her, not because of the monster she married.

Chapter Two
    Lineup
    On a day when he should have been celebrating and feeling a deep sense of pride, Clay Brand sat in the stands next to his wife, staring at the field and worrying that everything was about to go terribly wrong. They were just above the dugout, overseeing a team of ten- and eleven-year-olds, and so far everything had been perfect. The weather and the chance to get on the field and throw balls around and even the invitation for Carlos to be the batboy. It was a dream come true for Carlos.
    Of course, Carlos was their dream come true.
    For a moment Clay replayed the game of catch they had just enjoyed. For the ten-year-old kid born and raised in Guatemala, it had probably been just that. A game of catch while standing on the grass of Samson Field. But for Clay and his wife, Karen, who stood nearby taking pictures, it had been more. Much more.
    Carlos was an answer to prayer, a prayer they had uttered hundreds if not thousands of times. A prayer that had gone unanswered for a very long time.
    “What should I ask him first?” Carlos had said. “I got a lot of questions.” The joyous smile and the bright eyes were lit up as big as stadium lights after sunset.
    Clay had simply smiled, the proud father of a boy who was excited to meet his famous uncle for the first time. “Whatever you want, slugger. It’s your big day.”
    Karen had shared her doubts, but every time, Clay had told her everything would be okay. In his mind he saw the picture of their family—not just the two of them with Carlos in the middle, but Cory standing next to them as well. Cory was always a part of this family, no matter what Karen might think or how little they saw him.
    “I want to know his favorite player,” Carlos said. “And how to hit a curveball. And what he likes to do on the weekends. You know—when he’s not playing baseball.”
    Clay could probably have answered that question himself, but the answer would have been R-rated. For now, it was simply important that Cory meet his nephew for the first time. And what better day for it than Father’s Day?
    “So Carlos. Ya think you’re ready?”
    “Only for like four hundred hours now,” Carlos gushed. “I can’t believe Cory Brand is my new uncle.”
    Clay had thrown his son the ball and then walked over to him. It was a good thing he was wearing sunglasses, because his eyes had teared up, and Carlos would have asked what was wrong.
    The love—love he had questioned would ever come—burst out of Clay’s heart and rushed into every inch of his body. He still couldn’t believe God had granted it. Adopting a child