“Absolutely.”
We chose a baseball field.
Saturday morning.
Ten o’clock.
Nathan was already there when we arrived.
He was sitting alone on the bleachers with a baseball glove beside him.
When he saw Lucas, he stood.
Then seemed to realize standing might feel intimidating and sat down again.
Lucas stopped beside me.
Nathan didn’t approach.
“Hi, Lucas.”
“Hi.”
Silence.
Nathan looked at me.
I gave him nothing.
This wasn’t my conversation.
Finally, Lucas asked:
“Did you really come to the hospital?”
Nathan nodded.
“Yes.”
“And leave?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you just come upstairs?”
Nathan took a breath.
“Because I was scared.”
Lucas frowned.
“Of a baby?”
Nathan almost smiled.
“Not of you.”
“Then what?”
“Of being responsible for somebody.”
Lucas considered that.
“My mom did it.”
“Yes.”
Nathan’s voice softened.
“She was braver than I was.”
Another silence.
Then Lucas noticed the glove.
“You play?”
“I used to.”
“Are you good?”
“No.”
Lucas looked skeptical.
