You pulled up to yours sons first baseball game, well tee ball but he was only four after all. You unloaded Henry and his gear before he ran over to the coach and teammates. You grabbed the car seat that held your youngest son, now only a few months old, prior to making your way over to the stands. Sitting next to the Abbotts you looked towards the grass parking lot where your husband, Emmett, pulled up in his truck. Thankfully he got off work early to make it to Henry’s first game.

“Hey hot stuff.” Emmett gruffly greeted as he took a seat beside you, adjusting his old ball cap to shield his eyes from the sun. The tattoo on his bicep partially visible under his rolled up tshirt.