Walsh Family Universe V2

Chapter 37
Saturday Afternoon

Saturday morning started with a text from Claire in the family group chat: Can we come over this afternoon? Sophie's been asking to see Uncle Noam all week.

Mom showed Ash the message at breakfast. "Your sister wants to visit. Sophie misses you."

Ash felt a complicated warmth at that. Sophie, almost four now, had grown from the tiny baby he'd held on her first day into a chatty, energetic toddler who thought her Uncle Noam hung the moon.

The age gap was shrinking as they both grew—he was six, she was almost four. Just two years apart now instead of the vast gulf it had been when she was an infant.

"That's fine," Ash said, finishing his cereal. "Can we play outside?"

"Of course. It's beautiful out." Mom smiled. "Your dad wants to do yard work anyway, so you kids can play while the adults chat."

By noon, the house was filling up. Claire arrived first with Sophie and Marcus. The almost-four-year-old burst through the door, pigtails bouncing.

"Uncle Noam! Uncle Noam!" She launched herself at him for a hug.

Ash caught her, stumbling slightly. She was bigger now, heavier, but still small enough to hug properly. "Hey, Soph."

"I learned to do a cartwheel! Want to see?"

"Sure."

Cathy arrived next with her boyfriend-turned-fiancé Jake. Then Declan, looking more relaxed than he used to around Ash. Finally Eden, home from college for the weekend.

The living room filled with adult conversation—Claire discussing Sophie's preschool, Cathy showing off her engagement ring, Declan talking about grad school applications, Eden complaining about her roommate.

Sophie tugged on Ash's shirt. "Can we play outside?"

"Yeah. Let me get my ball."

In the backyard, Dad was already setting up—mowing half the lawn, leaving the other half for play space. The swing set from when Ash was little stood in the corner, still sturdy. His baseball equipment was in the shed.

"You kids have fun," Dad said, waving them toward the play area. "I'll be over here if you need me."

Ash grabbed his bat and a ball from the shed. Sophie immediately ran for the swings.

"Push me! Push me high!"

"Okay, but let me show Declan something first." Ash set up for batting practice. His uncle—no, his brother—Declan had actually asked to see his swing, seemed genuinely interested.

Declan emerged from the house with a beer, settling into a lawn chair. "Alright, show me what you've got."

Ash tossed the ball up and hit it—a solid line drive that sailed across the yard. Dad paused his mowing to watch, grinning with pride.

"Damn," Declan said. "That was actually good. Like, really good."

"I'm on the A-team this year," Ash said, trying not to sound too proud but failing. "Coach says I might move up to kid-pitch next season."

"Kid-pitch? Isn't that for older kids?"

"Usually. But if you're good enough they let you move up early." Ash hit another ball, this one even better. "I've been working on my swing."

"I can tell." Declan took a sip of his beer. "Never thought I'd see the day when you'd be into sports."

"Yeah, well." Ash shrugged. "Things change."

"Uncle Noam!" Sophie called from the swings. "You promised to push me!"

"Okay, I'm coming!"

Ash jogged over to the swing set. Sophie was already seated, legs kicking impatiently.

"Ready?"

"Ready!"

He pulled the swing back and pushed. Sophie squealed with delight as she sailed forward.

"Higher!"

"You sure?"

"Higher!"

Ash pushed harder, sending her swinging higher. Her laughter filled the backyard, pure and joyful.

Eden came outside, settling in a chair next to Declan. "That's adorable."

"Which part? Him pushing her or him hitting line drives?" Declan asked.

"Both, honestly." Eden watched them, her expression soft. "He's so good with her."

"Higher! Higher!" Sophie demanded.

"That's as high as it goes," Ash said, though he gave her one more good push.

After a few minutes, Sophie jumped off mid-swing—something that gave Ash a heart attack but that she landed perfectly from.

"Let's play catch!" she announced.

"You don't know how to catch yet."

"Yes I do! Daddy taught me!"

Ash retrieved his glove and a soft ball from the shed. Started tossing it gently to Sophie, who caught it maybe one time out of five but was enthusiastic about trying.

Claire came outside with Sophie's juice box. "How's it going?"

"She's getting better," Ash said as Sophie chased the ball she'd missed.

"I got it! I got it!" Sophie grabbed the ball and threw it back—it went about three feet and rolled.

"Good throw!" Ash encouraged, retrieving it.

Claire sat down with Eden and Declan, watching them play. "It's so sweet. She adores him."

"I mean, he's pretty adorable," Eden said. "Look at him being patient with her. That's good uncle skills."

"Big brother skills too, technically," Declan corrected. "Or... whatever the relationship is now."

"Uncle," Claire said firmly. "He's her uncle. That's what matters."

Cathy emerged from the house with Jake, carrying plates of sandwiches Mom had made. "Lunch! Come eat, you two!"

Sophie ran over immediately. Ash followed more slowly, watching his siblings—his family—gathering around the patio table.

This was normal now. Weekend visits where everyone came over, where he played with Sophie, where his siblings treated him like their kid brother who happened to be good at sports.

Not Ash trapped in a nightmare. Just Noam having a normal family Saturday.

After lunch, Sophie wanted to play baseball.

"You're too little," Ash said.

"No I'm not! I can hit the ball!" Sophie grabbed his bat—too big for her, but she was determined.

"Okay, but you need the tee."

Dad helped set up the T-ball tee while Sophie jumped with excitement. Ash showed her how to stand, how to hold the bat.

"Like this, see? Hands together. Eyes on the ball."

Sophie tried, her form terrible but her enthusiasm boundless. She swung and missed completely.

"That's okay. Try again."

Second swing connected. The ball dribbled off the tee about two feet.

"I DID IT!" Sophie threw the bat down and ran in a random direction, not even toward first base.

"That's not—" Ash started, but his siblings were all cheering, clapping for Sophie's "home run."

"Let her have it," Eden said, grinning. "She's proud."

Sophie ran in a complete circle around the yard before declaring herself the winner. "I won baseball!"

"You sure did, sweetie," Claire said, scooping her up. "Good job!"

"Uncle Noam taught me!"

"He's a good teacher."

Ash felt that warmth again. Pride in having helped Sophie, even if she didn't really understand the game yet.

The afternoon continued in that easy, comfortable way. The adults chatted and drank beer and coffee. Dad finished the yard work. Sophie dragged Ash from activity to activity—pushing her on the swings again, playing in the sandbox, showing her how to throw the ball properly.

At one point, Eden joined them, sitting on the grass while Ash and Sophie played.

"You're really good with her," Eden said.

"She's easy. Just wants attention and someone to play with."

"Still. You're patient. And you clearly love her."

Ash did love Sophie. That was the strange truth. She was his niece, but she'd never known him as anything other than Uncle Noam. To her, he'd always been exactly what he appeared to be—her fun uncle who played sports with her and pushed her on swings and taught her how to hit a baseball.

There was no complicated history. No trauma. Just the simple relationship of uncle and niece, two kids who loved each other.

"She's a good kid," Ash said.

"You're a good uncle." Eden smiled. "A good brother too. To all of us."

Later, when Sophie was getting tired and cranky, she climbed into Ash's lap during the adult conversation. Just curled up against him, thumb in her mouth, getting drowsy.

"Someone's ready for a nap," Claire said, but made no move to take her.

Sophie was warm and heavy against Ash's chest. He could feel her breathing slow, getting deeper. His shirt was slightly damp where she'd drooled a little.

This was nice. This quiet moment of just being someone's safe person to fall asleep on.

"You want me to take her?" Claire asked after a few minutes.

"She's fine," Ash said quietly. "I don't mind."

And he didn't. Sitting there with his sleeping niece, listening to his siblings talk about their lives, feeling like part of the family in an uncomplicated way.

Eventually Sophie woke up cranky, wanting her mom. Claire took her inside to change her diaper and get her a snack.

Declan looked at Ash. "Want to throw the ball around? I could use the exercise."

"You know how to play baseball?"

"I played in high school. Wasn't as good as you apparently are, but I know the basics."

They played catch, just simple back and forth. Declan's throws were decent, his catches mostly solid. They fell into an easy rhythm.

"This is nice," Declan said after a while. "This whole afternoon. Just... normal family stuff."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry I was weird about everything at first. When you first... you know."

"It's okay."

"It's not, really. But I'm trying to be better now." Declan caught the ball, held it for a moment. "You seem happy. Not like, fake happy. Actually happy."

Was he happy? Ash thought about it. About baseball and swim team and Sophie's laughter and weekend afternoons like this.

"Yeah," he said. "I think I am. Sometimes."

"Good. That's good." Declan threw the ball back. "You deserve to be happy."

As the afternoon wore on, the family started packing up. Sophie was devastated to leave, clinging to Ash.

"I don't want to go! I want to stay with Uncle Noam!"

"We'll come back next weekend," Claire promised. "And maybe Uncle Noam can come to your house sometime."

"Really?" Sophie looked at Ash hopefully.

"Sure," he said. "We can play more baseball."

"And swings?"

"And swings."

Sophie hugged him tight before Claire carried her to the car. The rest of the siblings said their goodbyes—Eden with a long hug, Cathy with a reminder about her upcoming wedding, Declan with a casual fist bump that felt like progress.

After everyone left, the house felt quiet. Dad was cleaning up the backyard. Mom was inside washing dishes.

Ash sat on the back steps, his baseball glove beside him, thinking about the day.

Sophie asking him to push her on the swings. Teaching her how to hit the ball. Her falling asleep in his lap. Declan apologizing for being weird. Eden calling him a good brother.

Normal family stuff.

The kind of Saturday afternoon that would have been impossible three years ago when he was still fighting every moment.

Now it was just... his life.

"My name is Ash," he whispered, though no one was around to hear. "I'm twenty-eight years old. Today I pushed my niece on the swings and played catch with my brother."

Both things were true. He was twenty-eight. But he'd also genuinely enjoyed pushing Sophie and teaching her baseball and being the uncle she adored.

"I'm good at this," he admitted to himself. "At being Noam. At being their brother and her uncle. At this life."

Five thousand one hundred and seventy-three days to go.

But today had been good. Simple and normal and good.

He'd been Uncle Noam who Sophie loved. Brother Noam who Declan finally felt comfortable around. Athlete Noam who could hit line drives and throw perfect catches.

He'd been exactly who he appeared to be.

And it hadn't felt like pretending.

Inside, Mom called him for dinner. Dad was already setting the table.

Ash grabbed his glove and headed inside, still feeling the warmth of Sophie's hug, the satisfaction of a good throw, the simple pleasure of a normal Saturday with his family.

This was his life now.

Uncle to Sophie. Brother to the others. Son to his parents.

Six-year-old athlete who loved baseball and swimming and had stopped counting down quite so obsessively.

Noam.

Just Noam.

And maybe—just maybe—that was okay.

He washed his hands for dinner, sat at his usual spot at the table, and listened to his parents talk about the nice day they'd had.

Tomorrow he had a swim meet. Monday was school. Wednesday was practice.

The routine of a six-year-old boy living a normal childhood.

His childhood.

His life.

He ate dinner with his family and thought about Sophie's laughter and felt, for just a moment, completely at peace with where he was.

Five thousand one hundred and seventy-three days to go.

But who was counting anymore?