Erin Skelley

Hard Choices?

I found it at the ballfield. The book. I was watching my son play baseball, which up to that point was the only thing that truly gave me joy. It had been a long, few years and the field was my happy place. A place I didn’t have to worry about the bills not being paid. I could enjoy the sunshine. The sound of the bat hitting the ball. The cheers from the other parents who had more going for them outside of that complex than I did. I had tried counseling a few months before, but the guy hadn’t been quite right, and I hadn’t found a new one yet.