Read Online Loving Promises by Gail Gaymer Martin - Free Book Online Page B

didn’t know why he felt as he did. He’d never had much experience and felt inept, a feeling he didn’t like.
    He pulled himself from his thoughts and got up from his chair. He wanted to remind her he was in charge of the grill, but he realized the boy needed attention. If Michael didn’t get positive attention, he went for the negative, and it always worked. He got what he wanted. The boy had a penchant for getting into trouble. He’d already been reprimanded for tossing a ball and nearly hitting his grandmother. Good old Millie had just tossed it back without a comment, but Bev hadn’t let it stop there.
    Dale had watched Kristin, too, but she seemed better-behaved. She’d spent most of the time drawing pictures for everyone.
    Dale crossed the yard to Michael. “Want to play catch?”
    Michael shrugged, but Dale hadn’t missed the look of interest in the boy’s face.
    “Do you have a glove?”
    Michael shook his head.
    Dale put up a finger and sprinted for the garage. He remembered seeing a couple of his old baseball mitts hanging on a peg. He’d thought they’d be hard as steel, but to his surprise, they weren’t half bad. He carried them into the yard and tossed one to Michael.
    The boy caught it and slid it on his hand. Dale chuckled. The mitt was too big, but Michael eyed it and smacked his fist into the palm as he’d probably seen the ballplayers do on TV.
    “Ready?” Dale asked.
    Michael played the part. He whacked his glove again and waited for Dale to pitch.
    He threw a slow straight ball to give the kid half achance. Michael fumbled, but Dale knew it was because of the oversize glove.
    Dale caught the boy’s ragged pitch, then threw another. As the ball sailed back and forth, sometimes bouncing to the ground, Dale sent his mind back in time, trying to recall how he’d felt at age eight. Free, important and know-it-all. His parents’ only child was spoiled to the core. Dale wondered if that was his problem today. No one paid him quite as much attention as his parents had. Recently, Bev was running a close second. Dale wondered if it weren’t his mind playing tricks on him. In truth, he was the one preoccupied.
    “Nice job,” Al said, crossing the lawn and giving the boy a thumbs-up. In the past minutes, Michael had shown improvement at catching the ball.
    The boy’s eyes lit up with the compliment, and Dale saw his pride. Kind words worked wonders.
    “Did you see him shag that one?” Dale asked.
    His father nodded.
    “Show him how to throw a knuckle ball, Dad. I was never good at that.” Dale walked toward his dad with the ball extended.
    Al took it and ambled to the boy. “Look here,” he said, demonstrating how to position his fingers. “When you can throw a good knuckle ball, you confuse the batter. The ball flutters all over the place.”
    “You mean like this?” Michael grasped the ball anddemonstrated by waving it through the air as he darted toward Dale.
    Dale held out his arms to halt him, but the boy charged into his embrace. The action shocked Dale. He hadn’t planned to hug the boy, but he certainly couldn’t reject him now. The child stood back, looking as startled as Dale felt.
    Dale sent the boy a pleasant look, hoping to waylay the child’s embarrassment. “Can you throw him a few, Dad? I think the fire’s ready for the steaks.”
    Al nodded, probably enjoying a chance to spend time with a child—not a grandchild, but a reasonable facsimile in his mind.
    Bev sat back, reveling in the lovely day. She’d relived her short visit with Dale the past Thursday and felt good about their talk. She really liked him, and trying to cover her feelings made her feel stressed. Now, at least, they’d come away from that afternoon with an agreement—friendship. Even more than that, she’d been ecstatic when he’d mentioned needing to read the Bible. If she had accomplished nothing else, Dale’s admission filled her with joy.
    Though his attention that day had made her