You Make It Easy

Maya~

"Look, there's Dad!" I say, pointing out Christian to Amalia as he runs up the stairs of Wrigley Field.

She starting to get one-syllable words out. "Da," she says quietly.

"Yeah, there's Dad."

He makes his way down the line of Milwaukee Brewers coaching and training staff. He spots us in the crowd, waving at us before taking his spot next to William Contreras.

I watch as the entire lineup is called and the National Anthem is played on this very cold, a little misty, Opening Day in Chicago.

After the anthem is played, Christian walks over to us, signing a few balls for the kids around me. He talks with one of the security guards near him, pointing at me.

The guard nods. "Come here," Christian tells me, pointing at a small gate. I leave the diaper bag in my seat and work my way through the crowd.

The guard opens the gate, letting me through. I hand him my phone and Christian takes Amalia. The guard takes a few pictures, "Are those okay?"

I check the photos, "Yes, thank you."

"A couple of minutes, okay?"

We nod, "Did you get here okay?"

"Yeah. I left our stuff at the hotel. I parked in one of the parking garages near here."

"Okay, I'll go back with you. I'll let him know to come get you two when we're done. Do you have enough blankets and layers?"

"Yeah, we should."

"Okay. I can always get you more if you need it."

The guard clears his throat, silently telling us to hurry up. I take Amalia back and hold her close to me. "We're proud of you. Have fun and good luck."

He kisses me quickly, "Thank you. I love you."

"We love you too."

I go back to my seat and put a blanket around my back and another around the front of me as I continue to hold Amalia. She snuggles into me. If she could sleep for the next couple of hours, I will be set.

Amalia gets so excited when she sees Christian come out of the clubhouse, "Who is that?"

"Da!"

"Yeah, that's Dad," I say, fighting the pounding headache I've got going on.

Her screeches make my ears hurt more than usual. Christian takes her from me, holding her in one arm. He touches my cheek, "Are you okay? You're looking a little pale."

"I have a headache."

"Did you bring Advil?"

"No. Can you drive? I really don't want to."

"Yeah."

I turn around, "The keys are in the front pocket."

I feel him move the bag around and take the keys out. We walk out of the stadium to find my car in one of the parking garages.

I get in the passenger seat as he gets Amalia in her car seat. I rummage through my glove box to see if I have Advil in there. I check the center console but can't find any there either.

It's fine. It's not that long of a drive. "When did it start?" he asks, being quiet.

"Right before the 9th inning."

He drives us back to the hotel. We park in the attached garage and make our way up to his room. "There's a Walgreens on the corner. I'm going to get you some Advil. Do you need anything else? Do you want anything else?"