He came around the side gate just as I was pulling juice boxes out of the cooler, tall, easy smile, holding a box wrapped in gift wrap with a ribbon, like someone had shown him how.
Mason spotted him from across the yard and sprinted over so fast he nearly knocked the whole folding table sideways.
« Coach D! » he yelled, and the man caught him with one arm like it was nothing.
I watched that from across the yard, and I felt… I don’t know. Warm and uneasy at the same time. The way you do when something good walks in through a door you’re used to holding shut.
The man caught him with one arm like it was nothing.
The gift was a Rawlings Pro Preferred glove. The real kind.
I looked at the box and then looked at Daniel, and I knew exactly what it cost because I’d stood in front of one just like it at the sporting goods store three months earlier and quietly put it back on the shelf.
« I can’t accept this, » I refused. « This is too much. »
Daniel just shook his head. « It’s just $400. Every kid deserves one great glove in his life. Let me do this. Mason’s the most talented player I’ve ever coached, Camila. I mean that. »
And the way he said it, not showy, not trying to impress me, I believed him.
