Grand Slam

by Heidi McLaughlin

  When I had gone to play with Lucy, the man approached Saylor. It was only a matter of seconds before I had Lucy in my arms and back at the table. One second later and I would’ve been able to prevent Lucy from hearing the man ask Saylor why she was with a rapist. But I couldn’t prevent Saylor from hearing those words. The look on her face—it killed a piece of me. I know she believes me, but having a question like that asked really gives someone pause, and when she looked at me, I could see in her eyes that she was wondering the same thing. Our night was cut short after I threatened the man, who in turn promised to go to the police.

  And now I picture his face as I shadowbox in the mirror. The urge to hit something repeatedly is growing day by day. My level of frustration is about to reach its breaking point. I want to wake up from this nightmare and go about living my life. I’m tired of the media camping out on the sidewalk in front of my house, and I’m sick of walking by the creepy, black, nondescript van that is parked only two doors down, the occupants of which are always hiding something when they see me head their way. I’ve seen enough movies to know they’re taking pictures, but of what? It’s not like I’m going to bring someone home, or even try to hook up with a random female.

  There’s only one person I’m interested in, and if she’d give me a chance, there’s no question about me changing my ways. For her, I’d do it in a heartbeat, and I wouldn’t miss any of the lifestyle I’ve been leading. Saylor would be worth it.

  The door opens to the gym, and two voices try to talk over my music. I stop fighting myself in the mirror and go over to the sound system and turn it down.

  “You stupid fucker,” Ethan Davenport says as he turns the corner, followed by Cooper Bailey and Branch Singleton. I must look shocked, because he shakes his head and says, “Shut your mouth. You’re not my type.”

  “That’s not what your wife said,” I add, confident that he knows I’m joking.

  The guys make their way over to me, and we hug it out man style. I get a bit choked up that they’re here and have to clear my throat before speaking. “What’s going on?”

  Cooper squeezes Ethan’s shoulder. “This asshole thought you could use some company.”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t have to take time away from your family and your kids.” I look at Branch and Cooper especially. Branch has been trying to spend as much time with his son as possible, but the boy’s mother doesn’t make it easy. And Cooper’s twins aren’t more than two months old.

  “I’ll fly back to Seattle before Christmas,” Ethan says.

  “And Ainsley and the twins are here. They came with me,” Cooper adds.

  “My boy is with me until spring training starts,” Branch states.

  “No shit?” I say to Branch, who nods. Having his son here is a huge milestone for him, and I know he has to be overjoyed.

  “Well, fuck, I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about you tell us you’re fucking starving and in need of a beer?” Cooper rubs his stomach while the guys laugh.

  “Yeah, I could go for some grub.”

  The guys help me close up the gym and wait for me to change back into my winter wear before we head out for some lunch. We head to the Bleacher Bar, a place we’d like to enjoy during the season but never can. The back wall of the bar opens up over the stadium and center field, giving the diners a unique ambience. Of course, when there’s a game, we’re always playing.

  “Hey, you guys…oh, wow.” It’s clear the waitress knows who we are when we walk in. The four of us smile and follow her to a table. Of course, she gives us one that overlooks the field. “What can I get for you?”

  “I’ll have a water,” I say, while the others order beer. This is part of keeping my nose clean. If my brain isn’t fogged up with booze, every decision I make can be done with a clear head.

  As soon as she walks away, Branch leans in. “What the fuck is going on?”

  I fill him in on what I know, and on the day I went in for questioning. Everyone seems in agreement that it’s strange that it’s been almost a week and the results haven’t been made public.

  “Do you think they don’t have enough to charge you?” Ethan asks.

  “They can’t charge me with anything related to my DNA, because I didn’t touch her. But I’m assuming she took my jacket home. I’m not really sure because I haven’t heard whether the police were able to retrieve it from the bar.”

  “How’d she get your jacket?” Cooper asks.

  This is where I have to be careful with my story. I still don’t know why Saylor won’t come forward, and I had planned to find out the other night at dinner, but the nice gentleman who stalked us ruined that for me.

  I lean in farther so we’re huddled together, and speak quietly. “I left the bar to speak to someone else, and the chick came after me, which pissed me off. So I bailed, leaving my jacket in the bar. And now she has it.”

  “And now she’s crying rape?” Branch tsks as I nod. “That’s fucked up.”

  “That’s the tip of the iceberg,” I say, righting myself. “I’m sure you’ve heard that others are coming forward, saying the same thing.”

  “Man, I told you this shit would catch up with you.” Branch slaps me on the back, reminding me of the many times he told me to curb my partying and I didn’t listen. He was an example of what not to do—a cleat-chaser he hooked up with ended up pregnant.

  “And I’m paying the price for not listening.”

  The server returns with our drinks, and we place our order. We watch SportsCenter for a few minutes before the conversation picks up again.

  “How are the twins?” I ask Cooper, who beams at the mere mention of his children.

  “Hands down the best and hardest accomplishment of my life. Ainsley’s a fucking machine when it comes to the babies. She has everything down to a T.”

  “And you come in and fuck it up, right?” Ethan says, laughing.

  “You know it. I have learned not to announce that I’m home by yelling loudly and slamming the door.”

  The four of us laugh, and as I look around the table, I realize I’m the odd man out. Even though Ethan doesn’t have any children, he has a niece that he dotes on. Hell, most of us love her because she’s such an amazing kid. This could all change for me if Saylor gives me a chance. I know the stakes in dating a single mom and how reserved they are about falling in love, because it’s not only their hearts that get hurt if things end badly. I need to step up my game where she’s concerned, though, because I want so much more after spending more and more time with her.

  A group of fans walk in and spot us immediately. Within seconds, we’re signing autographs and posing for pictures. Honestly, I’m surprised I was asked, considering all the negative media about me right now. One fan even said that she didn’t think I did it, because her friends are always trying to land an athlete. Really? This is the kind of world we live in?

  I know the day will come when I can tell the truth, and I plan on it. I’ll stand on the highest rooftop and shout my innocence when I’m given the green light. Irvin says it’ll be soon, but I’ve come to the realization that his definition of “soon” and mine are vastly different.

  Our food is delivered, causing us to turn into barbarians. The first bite is always the best, and there’s nothing like a greasy burger to make your day better. I have to admit that having the guys here has really lifted my spirits, and while I don’t want them to miss time with their families, I’m happy to have them with me.

  “This burger,” Ethan mumbles as he puts it back onto the plate and wipes his hands. “I love my mom, but she’s on this health kick and Daisy has joined her. I don’t even have my winter fat yet because I’m eating egg whites and lean meats when all I want is a juicy steak. My dad, Mike, and I have been trying to sneak out for pizza, but my mother has junk-food radar right now. I’m freaking starving,” he says, stuffing fries in his mouth.

  “At least you’re eating. Ainsley wants to try and do everything herself
and sometimes she’s too tired to cook, and I can’t even make toast, so it’s been a lot of takeout,” Cooper adds.

  We look to Branch and wait for his story. He shrugs. “Chicken nuggets and pizza have become staples in my house.”

  I open my mouth to tell them about my dinner dates last night but keep that to myself, although I’d love to introduce Branch’s son to Lucy. They’re close in age and would probably get along.

  “And we all know how you’ve been eating, Kidd. I can’t believe you held a press conference to get some food,” Ethan says.

  I shake my head and set my burger down. “They didn’t give me a choice. They were either going to follow me there or harass the person delivering it, so I tried to beat them at their own game.”

  “How’d that go for you?” Branch asks.

  “Perfect,” I tell them, laughing. “Food was delivered, and I think the restaurant saw an increase in sales that day from the news crew.” Giving them the publicity is the least I can do if I’m not able to eat there like usual. In fact, the restaurants I have been frequenting are mostly in Saylor’s neighborhood, increasing my chances of running into her. Can’t say that’s working out for me either. If it weren’t for Irvin, dinner the other night wouldn’t have happened. I should send the man a thank-you card.

  “So what’s next?” Cooper asks.

  I set my napkin down and clasp my hands in front of me. “After we finish, I think we order dessert. What kind of friends would we be if we didn’t allow Davenport to get his winter fat?” Everyone laughs while Ethan tries to push me out of my chair.

  Fourteen

  Saylor

  I have purposely avoided my phone today. Elijah threatened that he’d be in town, and I’m hoping that I can avoid seeing him by not answering any calls or text messages. It’s foolish, but it’s the only thing getting me through the day. I’ve also been able to ignore Travis for the last couple of days. That hasn’t been easy, but I have a job to do and everything can’t revolve around him, even though that’s what he’d like. My other clients need my services, have crises, have events that need to be RSVP’d to, or have contracts that need to be looked over. My co-workers could help me out, but passing off my clients in favor of one isn’t the smartest thing to do.

  A quick glance at the clock lets me know that the office will be closing shortly. It’s Friday, the one day that Jeffrey insists that staff leave at five. Every other day, we stay until the job is done, whether it’s in the office or out in the field. But on Fridays, he wants to make sure we can relax before the hectic weekend of sporting events starts. Not that the weekdays are any less crazy, but Sundays are the worst during the winter. We have football, basketball, and hockey, and luckily for me, aside from the issues with Travis, none of my clients should need me this weekend. Although, in this business, you never know until you get that call.

  The downside of not having to work is that I can’t use it as an excuse if Elijah does show up. I contemplate calling ahead to get Lucy and me tickets for an event, anything to get us away from Elijah, and as I pick up my phone to do so, a shadow appears in my doorway.

  “Hello, Saylor.” His voice is something I’ll never forget but wish every day that I could. Many times it’s the voice I hear in the middle of my nightmares when he tells me he’s coming to take my daughter away from me. I liken it to the way Anthony Hopkins voiced Hannibal Lecter, creepy and bone-chilling.

  I sit up as straight as I can and try to calm my nerves. I have often thought that if I ever saw him again, I’d crumble, that my heart would betray me and I’d fall back into his arms. But seeing him now, standing in my doorway with his designer trench coat folded over his arm, and those plastic covers that men put on their shoes instead of changing into boots, makes me laugh. These past few days, not once did I see Travis worry about his shoes. And the more I look at Elijah, the more I question what I saw in him all those years ago.

  “Elijah,” I say curtly as I try to peer through my blinds to see where Wanda is. Normally she would call ahead to announce a guest, but I can’t see any sign of her, which means he walked right past her desk in search of me.

  I don’t invite him in or ask him to take the empty seat in front of my desk. For all I care, he can stand there while my co-workers brush past him, wondering who he is. Unfortunately for me, he doesn’t care that I haven’t extended an invitation or that I don’t want him in my office.

  As he moves toward my desk, I angle the picture of Lucy so only I can see her. Never has he asked for a picture of her, and I never post any of my child on my social media pages, unlike the way his wife is always posting photos. I’ve seen pictures of their kids, one born only a few months after Lucy, and the other within the last year. Sometimes, at night, when I’m feeling particularly bad about things, I compare their pictures with Lucy to see what traits they share. I know that someday I’ll have to tell her about them, and about her father, but that day is not now. She’s five, and her biggest worries are whether or not her Cinderella dress is clean and if her new best friend is going to eat breakfast or dinner with us again.

  “I’ve been trying to call,” Elijah says, sitting down and crossing his leg. Again, I find myself laughing because none of the men I’m around sit like this. They’re casual, even in the most formal of settings. Right now, Elijah looks like a yuppie.

  “I’m working, Elijah.”

  He sighs, as if I’m the one bothering him. And because I want to irritate him, I pick up my phone and bring it to life. Sure enough there are a slew of missed calls from him, but it’s the text messages from Travis that make me smile. I open those because he could need something from me or have news that I should know about.

  Dinner tonight?

  I hope you’re having a nice day!

  I’m craving chicken fingers in the shape of funny characters!

  Rereading these makes me smile, even though I shouldn’t. I have yet to tell Travis everything, other than our relationship can’t work. I don’t want him feeling sorry for me or showing me any pity. The mistakes I made are on me, not him. He doesn’t know that one night with him would lead to a life-altering situation that could cost me my job, my freedom, and my daughter. He doesn’t need this type of drama in his life right now.

  “Do you think you could flirt with your boyfriend on your own time and not on mine?” Elijah asks, clearly exasperated already by my attempts to ignore him. I open my mouth to correct him but don’t. If he wants to think I have a boyfriend, I’m going to let him.

  “Actually, you’re on my time,” I tell him as I set my phone down. “What do you want?”

  “I want to see Lucy.”

  “You mean you want to meet her,” I point out, hoping he feels the verbal jab.

  He brushes off my comment and pulls at the pleat in his slacks. “She’s four, Saylor. Moving forward, I’m building memories with her.”

  I stare at him, trying to come up with a reasonable response, but words fail me. I open my mouth to say something, only to close it right away. Elijah rolls his eyes, growing exasperated with me as quickly as I am with him.

  “Is it money, Saylor? You know I pay my child support. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

  “Nothing,” I tell him as I clench my hands. “Absolutely nothing, which should be your clue that you need to leave my office and forget she even exists.”

  He shakes his head, and if I weren’t watching him like a hawk, I would’ve missed the sly smile that formed before it disappeared. “You have no problems accepting my money.”

  I hate that he’s right. I need it to pay for her education. The tuition at her private school is a bit out of my reach, and I figured his money would go to something good.

  “Elijah, I don’t have time for your games. I have work to do.”

  This time he nods, drops his leg back to the floor, and leans forward. “I saw that one of your clients is in trouble.”

  “And?” I ask, leaning forward to match his stance.


  “And I know that you’ve been seeing him.”

  “Excuse me?” I scoff, hoping to convey that he’s grasping at nothing.

  “A colleague saw the three of you together.”

  I stand and decide to pace around my office. It’s smaller than Jeffrey’s but still allows me to walk off any nervous energy.

  “So let me get this straight. A friend of yours saw me with my client, and my daughter happened to be with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “When?” There has only been one time, and that was dinner earlier in the week. It’s not unheard of, having dinner with clients or even having them at our homes for the holidays. There is no way Elijah knows that Travis is interested in me.

  “A few nights ago, and you can imagine how upset I am that you’re allowing our daughter to be near an accused rapist.”

  Now I’m seeing red. The fact that he thinks I’d put my daughter in harm’s way really pisses me off, but I can’t tell him that. I need to keep my cool, remain calm. The last thing I want is for him to accuse me of being overly emotional.

  “How dare you assume that I would put my daughter’s well-being at risk. You have no leg to stand on when it comes to parenting Lucy. You don’t even know how old she is. And you don’t have any clue about what type of parent I am. I have raised her, by myself, since she was born.”

  Elijah leans back in the chair and crosses his leg again. My phone chimes, and I go to it, finding a text from my mother telling me that she’s sick and asking me to come get Lucy. I’d love to, and would normally drop everything, but I’m not ready for Elijah to see her. I close my eyes and think, and as my fingers hover over my phone, I know that what I’m about to do might change everything. I reply to Travis’s messages, asking him to go to my mom’s and get Lucy, explaining that my mother has fallen ill.