Chapter Text
Alex has always hated baseball.
Well, maybe hate isn't exactly the right word, she thinks. Yes, she does hate the dirt that somehow ends up everywhere: in the car and in Aiden’s shoes and even on her phone sometimes. She hates how there’s always that one baseball dad who yells at his kid like he is a professional player, which she absolutely despises because the children are there to have fun, and not to play as if their lives depended on it. And she hates sitting under the scorching sun, though she doesn’t know what’s worse: sitting on the bleachers or on the folding chairs sprawled around the field.
But Aidan loves baseball and Alex loves him, so she always shows up with sunscreen in her purse, orange slices in a container and extra water bottles with her, even though they have them at school.
Maybe it’s because Aiden is hers entirely, or maybe it’s because choosing to become a mother on her own came with this constant pressure to get everything right, to never miss anything important and to never let her son feel like he has less than others just because he doesn’t have a father. That’s why she is always learning new rules for the things he gets interested in, even the ones she doesn’t truly understand, because she loves Aiden and she loves being his mother, and if she had the chance to go back in time, she wouldn’t do anything different.
“Mom!” Aiden’s voice reaches her ears and her lips curve into a large smile as she spots her son in the dugout.
It’s his first game with the Knights, the little league team tied to his new school, and Alex can already tell he is trying very hard to act braver than he feels. Aiden has never been a shy kid, quite the opposite, actually, but when he cares about something too much he tends to feel insecure and tries to overcompensate in ways Alex recognizes nearly immediately: he gets louder, more agitated and way too eager to prove himself.
Earlier that morning he had explained baseball statistics to her three separate times despite knowing she barely understands any of them, insisted he was ‘totally not nervous’ and casually mentioned that he hit two doubles at his old batting camp in California. And since Alex knows her son better than the back of her own hand, she knows that meant he was, in fact, terrified. They have only been in New York for two months now and no matter how exciting she had tried to make the move sound, she knows that the changes affected her son.
So yes, Alex wakes up at ungodly hours for practices and sits through not-so-great baseball games. She memorizes schedules and applauds aggressively every time her son even vaguely touches a baseball because if Aiden loves something, she wants him to feel safe loving it. And right now, standing awkwardly near the dugout in his slightly too-big Knights jersey while trying to look like the coolest kid alive, he very clearly loves this.
“Which one’s yours?”
Alex turns at the voice just as a man settles onto the bleachers beside her. He is tall, broad-shouldered, with clear blue eyes and that kind of annoyingly perfect hair that probably looks like that without any effort whatsoever (which, honestly, makes her almost resent him for it). She offers him a polite smile and gestures toward the field.
“Aiden. He’s pitching today.”
The man follows her gaze and lets out a quiet laugh. “Ah. That explains why he looks like he’s trying not to throw up.”
Alex laughs before she can stop herself. “He gets nervous when he really cares about something.”
“Mine too. His name is Bennedict,” he says, nodding toward first base where a taller dark-haired boy is adjusting his glove. “I’m Trevor, by the way.”
“Alex.”
He offers his hand and she shakes it briefly, fully expecting that to be the end of the interaction; instead, Trevor settles more comfortably against the bleachers and Alex knows by the way he relaxes his shoulders that the conversation is far from done.
“I haven’t seen you around before.” Trevor sounds very gentle and only then Alex looks at him enough to take in the fact that he is wearing a fucking suit to a baseball game on a Saturday morning. “You guys new to the school?”
“We moved here recently.” She nods, easily shutting her curiosity about his particular choice of clothing.
“Where from?”
“California.”
His eyebrows lift. “Wow. That’s a serious change.”
“It’s been an adjustment,” she admits lightly and, judging by the smile on his lips, it’s painfully obvious he is interpreting her willingness to continue answering as encouragement.
Unfortunately for him, Alex is simply being polite. Still, he keeps the conversation going anyway, asking about the city, about Aiden, and about whether they’re settling in okay. Alex nods along where appropriate but she is slowly realizing this is less friendly parent small talk and more flirting disguised as friendly parent small talk.
Which would maybe be flattering if Trevor weren’t, well, a man. A very attractive man, objectively speaking, but still very much a man, and Alex is still very much a lesbian. She is midway through trying to figure out how to politely disengage without making future little league interactions awkward when a whistle cuts sharply across the field, instantly shifting the energy around them, and Alex’s attention drifts automatically toward the source of it.
And so enters the second reason why she might actually enjoy this game: Coach Benson.
Shit. As much as she doesn't want to admit it, Alex has been waiting for this moment since she woke up, so she straightens her shoulders almost imperceptibly and silently thanks for the sunglasses keeping other people from realizing where she is looking. Coach Benson steps onto the field with a clipboard tucked beneath one arm, dressed simply in black athletic clothes and a Yankees cap, her dark hair pulled into a low ponytail. There's something effortlessly commanding about her presence, something that immediately pulls the boys into line without her even having to raise her voice.
Besides her, Trevor is still talking, but right now Alex has absolutely no idea what he is saying anymore. Holy fuck. That is probably the most beautiful woman Alex has ever seen.
“So,” a voice says beside her, female this time, casual and far too amused. “When are you gonna make a move on her?”
Alex nearly chokes on her own saliva, frowning when she looks to her right and sees Casey instead of the man who was just talking to her.
“Where the fuck did you come from?” Alex asks, the crease between her eyebrows deepening even further when she sees the grin on her friend’s lips.
“Oh, come on.” Casey completely ignores her question.
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Alex counters, even though she does have an idea. “Where's Trevor?”
“The man who was sitting on my spot?” Casey arches her eyebrows. “I sent him away. Not that you were paying attention, of course.”
Alex rolls her eyes, looking away too quickly, which is apparently mistake number one because Casey's grin widens into something deeply irritating. Across the field, Coach Benson blows her whistle once and half the team immediately straightens up. Embarrassingly, so does Alex a little bit. Casey watches her watch Olivia and gives her a look.
“Oh my God.” The redhead laughs. “You’re so hung up on Coach Benson.”
“I am not,” Alex counters, way too fast, her cheeks flushing. “She’s the coach and Aidan’s on her team. It’s important that I know who she is.”
“Of course that’s the only reason,” Casey says, adjusting her posture against the bleachers. “And I’m sure the fact that you just stared at her like a Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time means absolutely nothing.”
Alex scoffs. “That is not true.”
It is, unfortunately, completely true.
Casey is fully laughing now, her shoulders shaking and Alex bites down a smile, rolling her eyes at her friend. She loves Casey very much, but she can be fucking annoying sometimes. Especially when she clocks Alex’s feelings like that.
“Do you have to be this annoying on a Saturday morning?”
“I know you love me either way.” Casey shrugs.
It’s only then that Alex notices little Julie running towards them, nearly throwing herself in her mother’s arms before jumping over to Alex’s lap.
“Hey, little monkey.” Alex wraps her arms around Julie before glancing at Casey. “What have you been feeding this girl? She’s huge!”
“I’ve been feeding her healthy food.” Casey replies, a sweet smile playing on her lips. “As much as she hates it sometimes.”
“I hate veggies,” Julie confirms, sticking her tongue out. “Yuck!”
They have been friends for four years, since Julie was one year old, and both Alex and Casey bonded over the joys and the difficulties of being a single mother. Casey had moved to New York a couple of years back, so when Alex was offered a job in the city, she thought it could be a nice change for her and Aiden. Also, having her best friend right beside her had served as an incentive, of course. And now they’re here.
Before they can continue their conversation, Coach Benson blows her whistle one more time, drawing their attention back to the field and to the beginning of the game. Alex smiles at the way Aiden confidently assumes his position as the pitcher, adjusting the glove on his hand and stretching slightly, focused on whatever it is Coach Benson it’s telling him.
“Aiden seems to like her,” Casey says and Alex rolls her eyes. “I mean, what’s not to like? She’s nice, beautiful, knows what she’s doing. She’s a catch.”
“Casey.”
“What? I’m just saying.” She shrugs. “And since you’re not interested, I think you wouldn’t mind knowing that she’s currently single.”
At that, Alex’s head slowly turns to face her friend and Casey just nods.
“I was talking to Amanda the other day. Jesse’s mom,” she explains, and when Alex nods, she continues, “and apparently Amanda is actively searching for someone to set Benson up with.”
“Is she now?” Alex asks, aiming for casual and missing by a mile.
Casey’s grin turns positively evil. “Oh, so now you’re interested?”
“I’m not interested,” Alex replies automatically. “I was just asking.”
“Mhm.”
Julie moves to Casey’s lap and the redhead adjusts her more comfortably while still looking entirely too entertained by this whole thing. “Apparently Amanda tried setting her up with one of Noah’s teachers last month.”
Why is Alex interested? She has no idea. It's not like she doesn't have a son about to hit puberty and a job that demands a lot of her attention while she is still adjusting to a new routine in a new city. The last thing she has time for right now is going on dates. Still, she looks at Casey.
“And?”
“And according to Amanda, she left the date after forty minutes because the woman spent the entire dinner talking about cryptocurrency.”
Alex winces instinctively. “I’d have left earlier.”
“See?” Casey points at her dramatically. “You’re already defending her.”
“I’m defending basic human rights, Case,” Alex says. “Nobody should have to sit through crypto talk on a first date.”
Casey laughs softly and shakes her head. “You know, you could just talk to her.”
Alex snorts. “About what?”
“I don’t know. Baseball? The weather? Your son? Your very normal and not concerning obsession with her?”
“I do not have an obsession with her.” Before Casey can say anything, Alex raises one hand toward her. “I’m not going to use my son as a means to an end here and I can’t deal with dating right now. Aiden’s still adapting to the new school and-”
“And you can have a love life and take good care of your son at the same time,” Casey adds.
Alex opens her mouth and then immediately closes it again. It doesn’t work like that. Since she had Aiden, she has dated a few people but it has never gone further than a couple dates, and she has always been fine with that. Would it be nice to have someone to share her life with? Of course it would. Someone waiting for her when she got home, someone to share frustrations and happiness with, she had thought about it once. But she is so used to being by herself that even the thought of having someone else sometimes feels like more than she can handle. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, after all.
But it’s Julie who decides to look up in all of her five-year-old wisdom and say, “Auntie Alex has a crush!”
“What? I do not!” Alex protests for what it seems to be the tenth time that day, scandalized enough that both Casey and Julie burst into laughter.
Alex groans quietly and leans back against the bleachers, dragging one hand over her face while Casey continues smiling at her with the deeply irritating confidence she usually carries.
On the field, the game finally starts moving properly: Aiden adjusts his cap before stepping onto the mound, shoulders squaring with determination that feels just a little too old for him sometimes. Alex watches him carefully, immediately recognizing the tiny signs of nerves beneath all that confidence, but when Coach Benson says something to him from near the dugout, Aiden nods once and visibly settles.
That softens something inside Alex instantly. Her gaze lingers on her son for another moment, pride swelling warm and familiar in her chest as he throws the first pitch of the game. Almost helplessly, then, her eyes drift back toward Coach Benson, standing near the foul line, the whistle hanging loose around her neck as she watches the field with.
And, well.
Maybe, just maybe, Casey has a point.