Note: The family dynamic, in this story, is completely fictional. From what I've read, The Olson family is nothing but supportive of their two sons. :)

November 2019 

"You sure you packed enough?" Christian huffed as he helped zip up his fiance's bag. 

"Look, Georgia is humid as hell and cold as the poles ... depending on the day. I haven't been in awhile." A guilty look took over her tan features. Her eye had healed marvelously, only a small scar remained, and Christian kissed it daily--to remind himself to communicate and she always scrunched her face when he did. To him, she looked cute. 

"Wait. When was the last time?"

"Hmm, let's see...when I left for Long Beach?" 

"Eight years?!" He asked, stunned. 

"It was a bitter departure." She offered in a slightly cold manner. Since she'd told him about the baseball only household, he vowed to himself that their life wouldn't be only baseball. Granted, her declaring for the Olympics and having to start competing in January helped immensely, but he'd never make it about one thing. 

Pulling her into a hug, he murmured, "I'll be there the whole time, and if shit goes sideways, we dip." Nodding into his chest, she pulled back and double checked everything. 

"You packed your  brace in case you get sore?" He couldn't believe that he was nearly done healing. She'd been a miracle worker with his knee. The amount of time she'd devoted to get him ready for Spring Training had been intense. They had had their fair share of heated disagreements, but they never went to bed angry. They always managed to make up and solve their problems. 

"I did...per your request." He was still working on listening to her. Then again, she was still working on something similar.

"Did I detect some bitterness?" Her eyes smiled at him.

"Hmm, no?" He breathed as he moved to steal a kiss. She met him in the middle.  He grinned at their colliding. Before she could stop him, he scooped her up and set her on the counter--never taking his lips from hers. His hands went to remove her UA sweats, but her hands caught his and reminded, "We have a flight to catch. We can fuck in Georgia."

"I'm not having sex under your parents roof." He stated flatly. The entire idea sickened him; maybe when he was in high school...

"I booked us a room at the local hotel. I'm not sleeping in my old room." She informed as she got her trainers on. 

"Your family. Your field. You're calling the shots." 

The couple left the apartment, hopped into his 2018 Genesis G80, and headed for airport. While Roosevelt enjoyed driving his cars, she missed her truck. Mattie and Matt had gleefully accepted the responsibility of taking care of her loft and occasionally driving her truck. She'd gotten plenty of snaps of her baby going mudding, which always ended with her calling to threaten their lives if they didn't get it detailed after.
As they checked their car with a service, Christian climbed out first, placed his backpack on, and moved to grab the bags from the trunk. As soon as they started walking, reporters somehow knew to show up. The media pressure on the couple had ramped up in the Fall. 

"CHRISTIAN, HOW'S THE KNEE?" one of them shouted above the rest. 

"100% ready for Spring Training." He commented politely. 

"CHRISTIAN, ANY COMMENT ON THE SOCAL FIRES? ISN'T YOUR FAMILY FROM THE AREA BEING AFFECTED?" 

"Yeah, I've been in contact with my family. They're safe and sound. The fires are devasting and a real shame. That's why Ro and I have donated 10,000 meals for those affected as well as first responders." 

The reporters faltered, not expecting such an answer. Clearly, the volleyball player had made an impact on the outfielder's media relations. 
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Once they made it onto the plane and spent some time in the air, Christian observed Roosevelt starting to get fidgety. She'd shift from side to side, lean forward and then back, and close her eyes and take deep breaths.

"That bad, huh?" He murmured into her ear. 

"I'm preparing myself for the sheer amount of bullcrap my Dad is going to say. Call it intuition but he's going to be a jerk and compare your season to Mattie's."

"Matt did great. He got a gold glove."

"Oh, I know he did great, but did he come in second for MVP voting? How about silver slugger? Trust me, my dad's a piece of work." 

"Hey, it'll be fine." He tried to reassure her, hoping that her predictions wouldn't come true. The younger Olson seemed to have a slight temper, and the last thing Christian wanted was to be a pawn to activate it.

As the flight came to an end, the couple grabbed their checked luggage, snagged their Lexus rental, and began the long drive.
"You know it's not too late to turn around? We can always go somewhere else." Roosevelt offered in a light tone, but her facial expression showed otherwise. Christian, who was behind the wheel, shook his head at her, "No, this needs to happen."
"You know the devil went down to Georgia for a reason." She quipped back as crossed her arms indignantly across her chest.
"Mmhmm."
A couple hours later, the couple found themselves in front of a quaint, white farm house with a barn and horse corral in the back. The front was decorated with native wild flowers, and an American flag hung by the door.
"You never said your family had horses."

"Of course that's what you notice. Not the overly idilic look of the front yard? Wait til you see the baseball training area; that is, if my dad didn't dismantle it."

"Let's be honest, Mattie and I will distract him, and you can hang with your mom." She smiled at his willingness to put up with her dad.
"You're the best."

"No, you."

"I'm not starting this now. I'll get you later." She warned with a genuine smile.
As they climbed out of their car, Christian caught sight of her parents first.  It was easy to see the resemblance between his fiance' and her mother. The women both possessed tan complexions and darker features. The outfielder took in her dad. Mattie took after him in height and build. Both Olson men were on the thinner, lankier side. Mr Olson was grinning widely at them while Mrs Olson's expression was guarded, no doubt for her daughter.
Roosevelt took charge; grabbing her handbag, she greeted, "Hey mom, dad."

"There's our runaway." Her dad returned with a passive aggressive tone.

"Honey," her mom warned and greeted, "Hey baby girl."
Roosevelt dropped her bag and hugged her mom, while her dad immediately made made his way to Christian.
"Sir." Christian stated with an outreached hand. 
"Hey, no need for formalities. Call me Scott." He returned, his hand grasping Christian's.
Roosevelt had whispered something to her mom and her mom readily shook her head causing her to frown. Christian wondered what that was about.
"C'mon inside. Mattie's already here." Scott Olson beckoned the two. Ro gave Christian a warning look as he passed by her to follow her Dad inside. He wasn't ready to see Matt Olson so stiff and guarded. His eyes tried to communicate something, but Christian couldn't exactly figure out what that was.
He felt her hand grab his in a vice like grip.
"So, you're ready for spring training? That knee healed up?" Scott asked as he casually leaned against the back of the tan couch.
"Uh, yeah. I should be good to go. Ro has been super helpful getting me back to where I need to be." Christian relayed with a small smile directed at Roosevelt. Her mom smiled at the answer, while Scott simply nodded.
"That's good. Roosevelt, maybe you can work a miracle with your brother's hand/wrist."  His tone was cutting causing Roosevelt to shift slightly behind Christian.
"Dad, I'm fine--" Matt tried to deflect.

"It was enough to end your season. If memory serves, your team lost the wildcard spot."

"My team lost too. Bummer. Maybe next year, but those Dodgers, am I right?"

"Very true. LA has quite the roster." The siblings let out a sigh of relief. It looked like the MVP was the key to keeping things light.
"So Ro mentioned a baseball training set up? Is that still in play?"

"Absolutely. Wanna check it out? Matt?"

"I'm gonna hang back and take your advice."

Once the two were out of ear shot, Matt shook his head at Roosevelt, "Why did you come back? He's going to be on you and I like never before."

"Let me see the wrist." She snapped in reply causing the younger to flop his injured arm into her hands. Her strong hands nimbly began assessing and then adjusting with ease. Mattie missed his sister's work, and was partly jealous that Christian had the trainer all to himself. He wondered if his injury would have persisted as long if she'd been in Oakland instead of Milwaukee.