Leaving

Three


ASHLEY BAXTER BLAKE SPREAD PINK FROSTING OVER A COOLED batch of chocolate cupcakes and still managed to keep her attention on Cole, her twelve-year-old son. He was sharing his valentines from his sixth grade class, reading each one and explaining why that person was important and how he didn’t necessarily like this girl or that one.

“This one’s from Carrie,” he gave a slight roll of his eyes, but he couldn’t hide his grin. “She’s the one who writes on my arm all the time, remember?”

“I do.” Ashley picked up another cupcake, her eyes on Cole. “The cute one with the dark hair.”

Cole shrugged, but his eyes sparkled. “I don’t know how cute she is, but yeah … she writes on my arm.” He took the valentine from its envelope and held it up. “Hers have these ballerina Barbie girls all over them.”

“Which one did she give you?”

“It says, ‘Valentine, I’d leap across the stage for you.’” Again he gave a slight eye roll. “But she doesn’t really mean it, Mom. Half the cards in the box probably say that.”

Ashley laughed. “She might mean it.”

“Anyway …” Cole’s cheeks were a little redder than before. He moved on to the next valentine.

Across the kitchen, five-year-old Devin was helping little Janessa Faith color a Valentine’s Day card for Landon. “That’s right, Nessa … Daddy loves pink.” He pointed to part of the paper. He kept his voice low, because Cole was still going through his cards. “How ‘bout drawing a circus tent on this part? Daddy loves circuses.”

Ashley glanced at him, struck as she sometimes was by how much he sounded like Cole at that age, how much the two of them looked alike. And Devin definitely had Cole’s imagination. Everything was all about circuses lately. Even, apparently, Janessa’s valentine picture. Not that she could really draw much of anything at three years old. But she liked to try.

“And this one’s from that mean kid, the one who always makes fun of the short girls.”

“Collin?”

“Yes.” Cole shook his head. “I told him to quit it, but he likes the attention. He thinks he’s funny even when the teacher tells him to be quiet and he has to go sit in the back of the—”

From the front of the house came the sound of the door opening, and at the same time Ashley heard Landon cough. Not once, but three times. Hard enough that it made her heart skip a beat. She tried not to react, but she set the butter knife on the counter and held up her index finger in Cole’s direction. “Dad’s home. Hold on a minute.”

She wiped her hands on a damp rag and hurried toward the foyer. Landon was setting down his gear, and as she rounded the corner he coughed again. “Landon …”

He straightened and caught her eye just before she reached him. “Hey,” he smiled big. “Come here.” His voice was hoarse, his cheeks smudged with dirt.

“A fire?” She wrapped her arms around him and pressed the side of her face to his navy button-up uniform shirt. The smell of smoke was all over him. “Oh, baby, not another fire.”

“A warehouse.” Landon turned slightly and coughed two more times. “It wasn’t bad. We saved most of it.”

“But listen to you.” She closed her eyes, her face still up against his chest. As if by pressing against him she might hear his lungs or help stop whatever was happening inside them. “Your cough’s bad.”

“Daddy!” Devin’s voice rang through the house. He padded barefoot across the wooden floor and into the entry way. “Hi, Daddy! We’re making you val’tine cards.”

“Hey, Dad,” Cole called from the other room. “Come here and see all my valentines.” Cole’s voice was happy, upbeat. He was oblivious to his father’s cough. “We had our party today.”

“Landon,” Ashley whispered his name. She searched his eyes and wondered if he could see her anxiety. The dangers of fighting fires had been there from the beginning. It was after a fire nearly killed Landon years ago that Ashley finally faced the way she felt about him. The fact that she was in love with him. But he’d been coughing more lately—even when he hadn’t been around a fire in weeks. Every time she had to wonder … was his cough some side effect of his time at Ground Zero? Landon had spent more than two months volunteering at the pile, moving debris and looking for victims and breathing the worst possible air.

No wonder every cough made her frantic with the possibilities.

“Daddy, … come see.” Devin jumped around and grabbed Landon’s hand. Janessa took up her position on the other side, her arms wrapped around his leg.

“Just a minute, Dev,” he laughed, and stifled another cough. He kept his eyes on Ashley’s, deep to the places where their love knew no limits. Where it never had. “It’s okay, babe.” He touched his fingers to her hair. “Fires always do this to me.”

Ashley wanted to believe him, wanted to convince herself that if she stayed here lost in his eyes, what he said might be true. Either way, she could do nothing by worrying. Especially now, when they had a Valentine’s Day family dinner planned. She tried to hand her fears to God, and what she kept for herself she stuffed in the corner of her heart. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” A smile tugged at her lips, even as the kids bounced around at their feet.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He put his hand alongside her face and kissed her, tenderly, with a passion that told her there would be more later. When the kids were in bed. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” She felt her heart grow lighter. “Come on.” She ran her fingers over Devin’s blond hair. “The kids have been busy.”

They returned to the kitchen, and Landon fussed and raved over the kids’ handmade cards. He listened to Cole do a second round of explanations about his class party and the cards from his peers, but Ashley caught him taking a few spoonfuls of cough syrup. After that he let only a few coughs slip. Otherwise his lungs seemed to settle down.

Ashley felt the relief to her core. Maybe he was right — the coughing was because of the warehouse fire and not the months at Ground Zero. Never that.

Dinner was spaghetti and meatballs, because, as Devin said, “Busgetti is red, and red is a val’tine’s color.” Landon helped Ashley set the table, and Cole tossed the salad. “Thanks for the ranch, Mom. It’s the best.”

“Sorry it isn’t pink or red.” Ashley laughed, and the relief in her voice was genuine. Landon would be okay. Of course, he would be okay.

“Yeah, but mom it still works,” Cole pointed out. “Red, pink, and white — they’re all Valentine’s colors.” He nodded toward his bag from school. “At least if you look at all those cards.”

When they were seated and holding hands, Landon prayed. “Father, we thank you for this food, for providing for us. And we thank you for our family, where every day is a celebration of love and where every moment is a gift. We love you, Jesus. In your name, we pray. Amen.”

They opened their eyes, put their hands together at the middle of the table, and did something Cole had started this year after his flag football season. “One … two … three … team!”

Janessa looked a little bewildered, like she wasn’t quite sure what the cheer was. But she liked it anyway, and she gave a happy bit of applause before they all started eating.

“I think we’ll have busgetti at my circus, Daddy,” Devin was in a chatty mood. “Busgetti is a good circus food, right?”

“Yes,” Landon looked at Ashley, and the two shared a quiet smile. “I think spaghetti could be as good a circus food as any.”

“Dad,” Cole set his fork down. “At least tell him the truth.” Cole leaned over the table and smiled at Devin the way a teacher smiles at a kindergartner. “Hot dogs and hamburgers, Devin. That’s better circus food.”

Ashley raised her eyes in Landon’s direction. Cole and Devin were best friends, but when Cole played the older brother card, Devin sometimes resisted. Ashley had a feeling this was one of those times.

Devin frowned. “But I want busgetti for my circus,” he turned to Landon. “Right, Daddy? I can have busgetti at my circus, right?”

“More ‘getti, peease.” Janessa’s interruption came at the perfect moment.

“Yes, sweetie.” Ashley stood and went to their daughter’s highchair. While she served her, she smiled at their oldest son. “You’re right. Hot dogs and hamburgers are a more traditional circus food.” She turned to Devin and gave him a silly grin. “But spaghetti would make your circus more interesting.”

Devin processed that for a few seconds and puffed out his chest. “Yeah, I’m in’eresting.”

Cole looked like he might counter with something only a witty twelve-year-old might come up with, but he caught a look from Landon. He gave a quick shake of his head and laughed quietly instead.

“Okay, so here’s the dinner talk for tonight.” Landon always had a way of keeping things upbeat, just like Ashley’s father had done when she and her siblings were young, when they were being raised in this very house. “Let’s go around the room and say something we love about each person in our family.”

“Me!” Devin shouted. “I’ll go first!” He gave a quick look at the faces around him, and he started with Ashley. “Mommy, I love that you can paint pictures and cupcakes.”

“Thank you,” Ashley gave Devin a polite nod. “I try my best.” She giggled in Cole’s direction and felt the slight tension from earlier leave the table. Under Landon’s careful, loving leadership they would finish dinner on a happy note.

“Daddy, I love that you have the strongest arms in the world.” Devin couldn’t say his R’s just yet.

Cole sat beside Landon and gave his father’s bicep a squeeze. “You’re right about that, buddy,”

“And, Nessa,” Devin patted his little sister on the hand and then wiped his fingers on his jeans, “I love that you have a highchair, so we don’t get that mess all over us.”

Ashley tried, but she couldn’t stifle her laugh.

“And, Coley.” Devin narrowed his eyes at his big brother. “I love that you … will cook the busgetti at my circus!”

Cole hesitated and glanced at Ashley, but only for a moment. “Yeah.” Cole pumped his fist weakly in the air. “I love cooking spaghetti. Thanks, Devin.”

“There.” Devin sat back, satisfied. “That’s everybody.”

Cole went next. He loved that Janessa was learning to talk better, and that Devin was a good drawer like their mom, and that Ashley was the best mom in the world. “And I love you, Dad,” he turned adoring eyes on Landon, “because you’re my hero and my dad all in one.”

The muscles in Ashley’s throat tightened and her eyes grew watery. Cole had always been able to speak his mind, and tonight was no exception. It was her turn, and she swallowed, blinking back the unshed tears. “I have to agree with Cole,” she smiled at her son and then at Landon. “I love Daddy because he’s my hero. And because he taught me how to love.”

“Really?” Devin cocked his head, curious. “He gave you lessons?”

Ashley and Landon and Cole all laughed, and Devin shrugged and joined in. After a few seconds, Janessa added her baby-girl giggles so that the whole family was laughing. They finished up with Ashley telling Cole that she loved his honesty and leadership, and Devin that she loved his imagination.

Landon took his time, making silly faces and causing the boys to erupt in more laughter. Finally, when they’d settled down, he looked at Cole and Devin both. “I love that you’re my sons. That’s what I love most.”

Again Ashley’s heart felt full. She had Cole long before she and Landon started dating. But from the beginning he had treated Cole like his own son. His words tonight were more meaningful than either of the boys could possibly know.

Landon turned to her. “And I love your mom … because she has the most beautiful hair.”

“Hmm.” Cole nodded. “She does have pretty hair.”

But by then Ashley and Landon were already giggling again. When she and Landon first started out, Ashley worked at an assisted living home for Alzheimer’s patients. One woman named Irvel — Ashley’s favorite patient — had a habit of constantly complimenting Ashley’s hair. Landon had adopted the practice as a way to lighten certain moments. And always his timing was impeccable.

Even tonight when he knew exactly what she needed. In the wake of his coughing and her concern, she didn’t need an emotional statement or something overly sentimental. She needed to laugh.

Only Landon would know that.

When dinner ended and the kids had pink frosting on their faces, Cole reminded them that tomorrow Landon was off work and school had a late-start day. “And then there’s tryouts tomorrow.”

“Tryouts for me too?” Devin’s eyes got big and he spun fast in Landon’s direction.

“No, buddy.” Landon chuckled. “You’ll play T-ball this season. You don’t need a tryout.”

“But I do.” Cole’s voice seemed to get deeper, and he lifted his chin some. “I’m in Nationals now. That’s the highest we go for Little League around here. Right, Dad?”

“That’s right.” Landon winked at Cole. “I have a pretty good idea you’ll make it. You were in All-Stars last year.”

“Still …” Cole looked at Ashley. “Can we watch a family movie tonight? Like Sandlot? To get me in the mood for tryouts?”

The Sandlot was a family favorite. There were a few unnecessary scenes, but for the most part Ashley loved the story: the tale of neighborhood boys playing ball together and believing that somehow their time at the local sandlot would go on forever.

“You too tired?” She looked at Landon. He hadn’t coughed since earlier, and it was only seven o’clock. But still, she didn’t want him worn out. If he needed rest, he should get it. “Should we wait till the weekend?”

“Nah,” Landon put his arm around Cole’s shoulders. “I say we get the league’s best catcher in the mood for a little baseball.”

“Yay!” Devin jumped around. “Sandlot! Sandlot!”

Janessa had crawled up onto the couch and was already falling asleep. Ashley took a blanket from a wicker basket on the floor and spread it over her little daughter. In a matter of minutes they were snuggled together, all five of them beneath blankets with the lights dimmed. Ashley sat with Cole on one side and Landon on the other, and even before the movie started she caught herself realizing the importance of tomorrow.

Cole’s very last tryouts for Little League.

Sure, he might go on to play baseball for an older league or someday for his high school. But Little League would be over. A few short months from now she would watch Cole take his last at-bat in Little League, watch him catch his last ball behind the plate. He would do his best at every practice, play every game with the gusto he was known for. Landon would coach him, and the afternoons would feel like they might last forever.

But they wouldn’t. This was the final season.

It made Ashley feel like she was leaving something behind, Cole’s childhood, maybe. Bloomington’s Little League played on a large multi-field complex where the little guys started out at one end of the park and worked their way—year by year — through the T-ball, Coach Pitch, and a handful of other divisions before making their way to the Nationals field.

As the movie started, Ashley remembered she and Landon taking Cole to his first T-ball game. Sitting in the bleachers she had shaded her eyes and looked far across the complex to the big baseball diamonds, the place where the twelve-year-olds played. Forever away, she had told herself. Forever until Cole was throwing that hard and hitting balls out of the park. Before he was one of the big kids.

But now here they were. Just like that.

She blinked and tried to focus on the movie, but still she wondered where the years had gone. She could see him the way he was back then, all batting helmet and wide eyes, his bat nearly as big as him. How could they be more than halfway done raising that precious little guy?

The movie gave her time to savor the moment, memorize the feel of Landon and Cole warm against her sides, the sound of Janessa Faith’s sleepy breathing and Devin’s laughter at the funny scenes. A shudder passed over her, and she realized — as she had a thousand times — how easily she might have missed all this. But for Landon’s relentless pursuit of her, his undaunted love … it would be just Cole and her tonight.

She gathered the deep feelings of her heart and held them close. They were so blessed, all of them. Living here in the old Baxter house, sharing time like this together. Thank You, God. Thank You for this.

The entire movie was a flashback, a look from the vantage point of adulthood at a time when the narrator and his buddies were on the brink of becoming, a time when for a little while longer they were still young boys. As the movie neared the end there came what was, for Ashley, one of the saddest scenes in all of moviemaking. The boys from the sandlot played on the dusty ball field while the narrator, Scotty, talked about how they had all grown up, what had become of them. How one went on to be an architect, another a businessman, another a professional wrestler, and so on… …and how one guy was never heard from again.

As the narrator finished talking about each of his buddies, one at a time the twelve-year-old player would slowly disappear from the sandlot. There one minute, and gone the next. The way it was with life. And this season that would be Cole: playing his heart out in a Yankees Little League uniform one day and the next having no reason to ever step foot on the field again. Ashley dabbed at her eyes as the scene came to an end.

“Mommy, why are you crying?” Devin peered around Landon, concern on his face.

Landon rubbed Ashley’s shoulder and put his arm more tightly around Devin’s arm. “Mommy’s just thinking about Cole. It’s his last season of Little League.”

“Yep,” Cole’s eyes were damp too. He gave his brother a wistful smile. “You have forever to play.”

His words pierced Ashley’s heart, because the sentiment wasn’t true for Cole and wouldn’t be for Devin either. They had this season, yes. But the years would fly by for Devin as they had for his older brother, and one day all too soon it would be his last season. Suddenly a painting came to mind: Cole in his Little League uniform — his last season … Landon working alongside him, coaching him. The images and colors and broad strokes were so clear Ashley could hardly wait to get started. Anything to hold on to the days at hand, before the moments slipped away and the season was over. When the sight of Cole, like every other little boy who ever played Little League, would fade forever from the field where he had grown up.

His very own personal sandlot.