by Kate, Jiffy
She lets out a laugh that holds no humor and it causes me to be a bit more alert.
“Would you like to explain to me why you’re on the front page of The Daily Dish?”
That question has me straining to sit up in bed. “What?”
Surely, she means Charlotte and not me. Maybe she forgot who she called—
“Casey Carradine, younger sister of popstar princess, Lola Carradine, was seen leaving an appointment last Monday morning. It seems as though Baby Carradine is having a baby herself.”
Oh, God.
Swallowing, I close my eyes and nearly drop the phone, but her words keep me hanging on.
“She was accompanied by Ross Davies, ace pitcher for the New Orleans Revelers. Sources tell us Davies separated from his wife last year and now speculations are circulating that Ms. Carradine is the reason for the split from his college sweetheart, Felicia Davies. The two had been married for seven years and it’s been unknown why they called it quits, until now.”
No.
No, no, no.
“Casey,” my mom’s tone brooks no argument. “Please tell me this is false information.”
New tears prick my eyes as I try to wrap my head around what she just read. Licking my lips, I swallow. “It’s not…well, I mean…”
“Are you a homewrecker, Casey?” She audibly huffs and I can picture her pacing the pristine marble floor in her expensive shoes. I bet she’s already called an attorney to get ahead of this and save the Carradine name from being drug through the mud. “Because that’s what this article is painting you out to be and I just need to know what we’re up against here.”
We’re…what we’re up against.
I’ve seen this scenario play out so many times throughout my life with Charlotte, but never with me as a focal point. I don’t even know what to say.
“I was going to tell you…about the baby,” I finally manage to get out. “But the other stuff…”
Pausing, I try to collect myself, but fail.
What happens when Ross reads this… what if it’s partially true?
Did I come into Ross’s life in the middle of a reconciliation with his wife?
Have I been wrong about his feelings for me?
Is this just a fantasy in my head and in reality, Ross is trying to make lemonade out of lemons…?
Panic begins to set in and the next thing I know I’m practically hyperventilating.
As I gasp for air, my vision starts going dark, like an old movie coming into focus.
Dropping the phone, I try to get off the bed, but get tangled in the sheets and stumble, falling to the floor and taking the lamp from the nightstand with me.
“Casey?” Charlotte’s voice is distant and I hear heavy footsteps.
A few seconds later, or maybe minutes, the door flies open and she’s beside me on the floor.
“Casey!”
Between the searing pain in my chest and head, I can’t respond or focus.
It’s too much.
And then everything goes dark.
Chapter 27
Ross
After getting my shoulder iced down, I shower and then dig out my phone.
When I tried calling Casey before the game, she didn’t answer. Bo relayed a message for her last night, saying she was at Charlotte’s having a girl’s night, so I tried not to bother her. I know Casey misses spending quality time with Charlotte and I’m glad they’re taking advantage of this time while we’re away. But something about not talking to her last night and then not hearing from her this morning doesn’t sit well with me.
Since I was pitching today, I tried to stay focused and not think too much about it. Now that the game is over and I managed to make it through six innings without fucking it up completely, I need to talk to her.
“Good game,” Mack says, taking a seat beside me.
I huff, shaking my head. “Not good enough.”
“You threw some good stuff. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
That’s easier said than done and he knows it.
What was nice was seeing Thatch come in during the seventh inning and finish strong. He shut down four consecutive batters and only gave up one run in the eighth.
“Thatch saved my ass.”
Mack nods. “He’s good…getting better,” he says, watching me.
When Bo walks by, I stop him. “Hey, have you talked to Charlotte?”
He frowns, shaking his head. “No, I was going to ask if you’d talked to Casey, but I’m guessing that’d be a no.”
“No,” I tell him, that heaviness from earlier settling in my gut. “She didn’t answer my call this morning and I don’t have any missed calls, but I’m getting ready to head out and try her again before we leave.”
If Mack knows something is up, he’s being respectful of my privacy and I couldn’t be more grateful. The last thing I need is my team breathing down my neck.
Stepping outside the main doors of the clubhouse, I find a quiet alcove and tap Casey’s name on my phone. It rings a few times and just when I think it’s going to voicemail, Charlotte picks up.
“Hey, Ross,” she says, sounding tired and putting me even more on edge than I already was.
“Where’s Casey?” I ask, raking a hand through my hair.
She sighs. “Don’t freak out, okay?”
Don’t freak out?
Is she serious?
She can’t start a conversation like that and expect me not to freak out.
“Charlotte,” I warn, feeling like I’m about to come unglued if she doesn’t tell me what the fuck is going on right now. My words come out like sandpaper as I grit my teeth together, “Where’s Casey and why are you answering her phone and asking me not to freak out?”
“She’s okay,” she starts and it only makes me feel marginally better. “But I took her to the hospital earlier this morning—”
“The hospital? Are you fucking kidding me? Why didn’t you call me?”
Now, I’m pacing like a caged animal as I picture Casey in the hospital and my mind goes to all those fucking baby books and the scary shit that can happen.
“I said don’t freak out.” Her tone is firmer, making me check my attitude a bit. “I didn’t think about anything at first except getting her checked out. Then, once I knew she was okay, she asked me not to call you because she knew you pitched today and she didn’t want to mess up your game.”
I sigh, squeezing my eyes together and pressing my head into the concrete wall in front of me.
“She had a panic attack,” Charlotte continues. “It’s a long story but the important part is she’s okay. The doctor said her blood pressure was a little high and he wants her to take it easy. He suggested she go on modified bed rest for a few weeks.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, feeling helpless. I’m hours away and Casey was in the hospital and I wasn’t there… “What about the baby?”
“The baby is fine and so is she,” Charlotte assures me. “Modified bed rest is basically just her resting as much as possible and not doing any heavy lifting or exerting herself too much. She can sit, stand, take short walks…stuff like that.”
My heartbeat slowly starts to regain a normal rhythm.
She’s okay.
The baby is okay.
“What caused the panic attack?” I ask. As long as I’ve known Casey, I’ve never known her to suffer from any type of panic or anxiety disorder. She’s typically calm and collected, in charge.
Another loud sigh greets me from the other end of the line. “This is really a conversation you should be having with Casey, but I know you’ll just worry yourself sick over it…” She pauses, taking another breath. “Felicia showed up at your house again and her and Casey kind of got into it. Felicia said some things that really shook Casey up. I’m hoping they’re not true, but she’s going to need to hear that from you.”
The line goes silent for a moment and I take the opportunity to reign in my anger.
Fuck
ing Felicia.
I knew I should’ve just called her and found out what she wanted. She showed up at my house back during Spring Training and I shouldn’t have put it past her to do it again.
“I’m only going to say this once,” Charlotte continues. “If you’re fucking around with my sister or leading her on in any way, I will cut your balls off and feed them to you.”
Swallowing, I wince at the visual she just painted for me, knowing it’s not an empty threat.
“Now, I’m going to guess that your ex-wife is full of hot air and wanted to get a dig in at Casey once she noticed she’s pregnant. So, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt…innocent until proven guilty and all that.”
Oh, shit.
Felicia learning about the baby like this is not good. She has a vindictive streak a mile long. When she feels like she’s been wronged, her claws come out and she goes for blood.
“But that’s not all,” Charlotte says. “I need you to brace yourself for this one…and also be prepared for a call from your agent, since you don’t have a publicist—”
“What the fuck?” I growl out, not sure I can take much more than what’s already been dumped in my lap.
“There have been some pictures leaked to a few media outlets of you and Casey. One of them was from when you were on your way into the doctor’s appointment and a few from the past year or so… there was even a photo of the four of us when we were all out for dinner after a home game…They’re basically painting Casey out to be some sort of homewrecker, linking her to the demise of your marriage.”
“That’s fucking crazy,” I yell, forgetting where I am and practically losing my mind at the idea of anyone speaking like that about Casey. Lowering my voice, I grit out between clenched teeth, “You know that’s a fucking lie, Charlotte.”
“I know the photos of all of us are innocent, but they’re using them out of context and we both know how the media can manipulate information to meet their needs…”
For a second, I think about punching the wall in front of me, but I know that wouldn’t do anyone any good. It wouldn’t help Casey and it sure as fuck wouldn’t help me.
“What should I do?” I ask, sounding as desperate as I feel.
She’s quiet for a moment and I’m worried she’s going to tell me to go fuck myself.
I’m kind of leaning toward that response when she finally says, “If it was me, I would talk to the team publicist and see if they can do anything. You should probably also call your agent. You have a good relationship with him, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, I do.”
“Good, use the resources you have and get as far ahead of this as you can.”
“What about Casey?” I ask, wishing I was there right now. I need to see her and know for myself that she’s okay. I want to talk to her and hold her.
“Give her some space…she has a lot to think about and she needs to take care of herself…and the baby.” Charlotte’s voice drops to barely above a whisper. “She’s safe here.”
She’s safe there, but not with me, that’s what she’s trying to say. But I can’t just not see her. She has to know that.
“I’ll stop by when we get back to town,” I tell her.
“I’ll call if anything comes up,” she promises. “She’s going to be fine.”
When I hang up, I lean into the wall, letting it hold me up for a minute while I get my shit together.
By the time we make it to the airport, I’ve already contacted my agent and talked to the team publicist.
There’s not a lot we can do, but it was agreed I’d make a statement to clear things up. According to them, in cases like this, it’s better to be upfront and honest. The basic gist of what will be released is this:
One, my marriage ended because my wife didn’t want to be married anymore. End of story. I’ve taken the high road as much as I can when it comes to the divorce, but I’m done with that.
Two, Casey and I didn’t start a relationship until February, long after the divorce was finalized.
And three, we are in fact having a baby.
This secret we’ve held onto so tightly for the past few months has gone public. I’m guessing by the time we land back in New Orleans, everyone and their dog will know. Which means, things are going to be crazy for a while and all I can think about is how to protect Casey from the media shit storm that’s brewing.
“You okay?” I hear Bo ask as he slides into the seat beside me.
Opening my eyes, I keep them trained on the seatback in front of me. We’re somewhere in the air between Atlanta and New Orleans and if I could make this plane fly faster, I would. The anxiety and anticipation of needing to see and be with Casey are overwhelming.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, but we both know that’s a lie.
He lets out a deep sigh and kicks his legs out in front of him. From my peripheral, I can see him adjust and readjust his head on the seat, like he’s trying to get comfortable, but if I had to guess, there’s something on his mind and he’s not wanting to say it.
“Just fucking say whatever you need to say,” I tell him. My voice sounds gruff and much harsher than my normal delivery, but I can’t help it.
Bo clears his throat. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he starts, making my body tense at his words. “But Charlotte asked me to talk to you and tell you she thinks you need to give Casey some space… and time to think things through.”
“I know,” I bite out. “She told me.”
“Yeah,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Well, she wanted me to reiterate it and make sure you’re not going to come there when we get home. She said cars have been lingering out at the gate and she thinks they’re probably reporters looking for a story. If you come, it’ll just make things worse.”
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Since we’re only going to be home for a few days,” he continues. “Maybe it’d be good to let all this blow over and then by the time we get back, the two of you can talk and figure things out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out,” I tell him.
He’s quiet for a minute, but I can tell the conversation isn’t over.
“Maybe not for you,” he says, a finality to his tone. “Casey needs rest and she doesn’t need any stress. I know you want what’s best for her and the baby. This is what’s best.”
Growling, I clench my fists tight. “I’m what’s best for her.”
I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more, him or me.
“I don’t doubt that,” Bo says, leaning forward. “Listen, man, I know how you’re feeling…I mean, I know it’s different with the two of you and you have a baby on the way to think about, but I remember what it was like when I had to walk away from Charlotte. It was the hardest fucking thing I’d ever done…but it was worth it. In the end, everything worked out and now she’s mine forever…and I don’t ever plan on leaving her again.”
I look at him, seeing the rookie who was so focused on the game he couldn’t see two feet in front of him, but also seeing the man he’s become. He’s right, he did have to walk away from Charlotte. I was there and I saw what it did to him, but also saw the way he came out on the other end and they’re both stronger for it.
“I’ll do whatever I have to do to make her safe and happy,” I tell him. The selfish part of me wants to go claim my girl and take her home with me. But the realistic part of me knows that’s not what’s best.
Not for her.
Not for the baby.
And not for me.
Because as much as I want Casey, I need to know she wants me too.
So, I’ll give her some space and I’ll pray for the best.
Hopefully, when all this blows over, we’ll find ourselves still standing—stronger, together.
When the plane lands in New Orleans, I take the back exit they offer us. Pulling my hat down low, I drown out the reporters standing vigil and jump into the back of a car.
&
nbsp; The drive to my house is quiet, even my thoughts have died down. It’s been such a fucking rollercoaster of a day, from finding out Casey went to the hospital, to Felicia’s bullshit, and the tabloids. I feel like I’ve crammed a week into the last twelve hours.
All I really want to do is reclaim the bubble Casey and I have lived in for the past few months. I want her curled up against me in my bed… our bed. I want to smell her sweet smell and hear her soft snores. I want to eat Oreo ice cream at the kitchen counter in the middle of the night. I want to rest with my hand on her stomach and dream about the baby growing in there.
Instead, the driver rolls up to my house. It’s not dark because I always leave the perimeter lit up for security purposes. And thankfully, none of the reporters followed us here, at least not that I can see. But it is empty. Casey’s car isn’t in the drive.
As I unlock the door and close it behind me, I immediately feel her loss.
I’m reminded of when I came home from Spring Training and experienced the same thing but this time is worse. Much worse.
Her shoes aren’t by the door.
Her bag isn’t on the hook in the hallway.
Walking into my bedroom, I notice the books she always reads aren’t on the nightstand. The clothes she’d started leaving in one of the drawers of my dresser are gone. There’s not a second toothbrush in the bathroom… it’s like she was never here.
And the thing I hate about it the most is how easily she was able to erase herself from my life.
But I did that.
As much as I’ve wanted her close, I’ve also needed to keep her at arm’s length. It was self-preservation and fear of the unknown, but I realize now, it was stupid because she’s worth it.
She’s worth the risk and possible heartache.
She’s worth putting myself out there again and not knowing what the final outcome will be.
She’s worth it all.
Chapter 28
Casey
“How are you feeling?” Charlotte asks from the doorway.
Closing the book I’ve been reading—which I would like to point out is not a book about babies or pregnancy—I adjust the pillows behind me.
