The instruction said:
Take Aaron to Franklin Field. Bring the glove.
Mr. Vance had left behind Aaron’s old baseball glove.
Aaron immediately refused.
His son Ben had played Little League at Franklin Field for years, and Aaron had repeatedly invited his father to attend.
Mr. Vance always made excuses.
Too tired.
Too hot.
Bad knees.
Crowds bothered him.
Aaron looked at Noah bitterly.
“He could sit on that porch every Saturday watching you mow, but he couldn’t watch his own grandson play baseball.”
Noah said nothing.
Aaron quickly apologized.
“I’m not angry at you. I just spent years believing he didn’t care.”
Eventually, Noah handed him the glove.
“Then maybe you should come.”
