by Jean Joachim
Guilt crept into his heart. How could he worry about himself when this might be the biggest break of her lifetime? How could he begrudge her going for the brass ring? If it was him? Hell, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Being on top mattered to Jake Lawrence. He worked his ass off to get there and was still working night and day to stay.
He had to be honest with himself. He could be magnanimous about her going on the road with the show, but becoming a movie star was a different deal. Nope, he couldn’t be generous about that. Didn’t he get a say about this stuff? He wanted her with him, even if what he had to offer couldn’t compete with the entertainment world.
He looked up to see Cal Crawley slip into the empty seat beside him.
“How you doin’, Jake?” The older man asked.
“I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“We need you. These two games are crucial.”
“I know. I’ll be there, Cal.”
“Focused? Thinking about baseball and only baseball?”
Jake shrugged. Hard to lie to his manager.
“Don’t worry about her, son.” Cal patted Jake’s knee. “She’ll be there when the season’s over. She’ll be waitin’ for you.”
“How do you know?” Jake couldn’t help himself. He had to challenge Cal’s easy words.
“’Cause I saw the look in her eye when she looked at you. That’s a girl who’s got her man. She’ll be there. Trust me. I’m old. I know these things.”
Jake had to smile. Cal’s wisdom was famous in baseball. But what did he know about love?
“I hope you’re right.”
Cal stood up. “Focus, Jake. We gotta win here.”
“I will. You can count on me.”
Intimidated by the Pirates’ record, the Nighthawks lost the first game by one run. Inspiring words from Cal and determination brought them a win in the second game. Then it was back to New York.
They split there, two games for New York and one for San Fran. The team bitched about having to fly back to the West Coast, but Cal simply shrugged.
“Hey, if you’d a won all three at home, we’d be out celebrating right now instead of sittin’ on this damn plane.”
The Pirates picked up the next game and now it was tied, three games apiece. The last game would clinch the series. Nerves were taut, tension crackled in the air, and the Nighthawks vowed to reach into their guts for every last ounce of energy and skill they could muster. Jake led them in a cheer as the bus ferried them from the posh hotel to Pirates’ Stadium, one last time.
Kate was winging her way to Dallas. She and Jake had connected for one last conversation before he boarded the vehicle. Every seat at the ballpark was filled. As the final splash, Lucy Albright, the brand-new, number one country music singer, was there to do justice to the national anthem.
Single guys on the team drooled over her revealing dress, slit up the side and cut down to her navel, showing off a fine pair of “D’s”. Nat Owen nudged Skip Quincy when the singer came out on the field. She walked right by them, winked at Nat, and kept going to her mark.
Nat’s face got red.
Jake leaned over. “Don’t come on the field, Owen. Geez. Keep it in your pants, will ya?”
“That is one fine woman,” the first baseman replied.
“Focus on the game, numb nuts,” Bobby Hernandez hissed.
“I am, I am. But I got eyes, Bobby.”
“Asshole,” the second baseman mumbled.
“We’re counting on you, Nat,” Matt Jackson said.
Nat had been especially strong during the series. His batting average was up and his fielding near-perfect. His stretches at first had enabled him to get five men out who would have been safe had someone else been tending the base.
The roar of the crowd was deafening as Nat walked to home to start the game. Fans cheered so loud, Jake wondered if anyone could hear the calls at the plate. But after the Pirate released the first pitch, called a ball, they settled down.
The game was tense, no score on either side. What started as a pitchers’ duel, was busted wide open in the top of the ninth when Jake hit a ground rule double, bringing home Bobby Hernandez who had walked his turn at bat, then stole second. The slugger glanced at his manager, who nodded. The third baseman was disappointed he hadn’t hit a homer. The break-through started things. Matt Jackson brought him home on a long ball to the right field corner that dropped before the fielder could get to it.
Chet Candelaria beat out a dribbler to the shortstop. Matt was held to second base. The Pirates’ pitcher struck out the next two batters. With two men on and two out, Jake wondered how they were going to bring them home. It was the pitcher’s turn at bat. Jake cringed. Dan Alexander, the Nighthawks’ pitcher, couldn’t get a hit if his life depended on it.
Matt was on second. Dan begged the manager for a chance to bat. A pitcher who wants to take a swing? That wasn’t the norm. Jake sidled over to listen in on their conversation.
“Please, Cal. I know I can do it. Matt and I have been working on my bunt. I know I can move him to third. Give me a chance.”
With two men out on the disabled list, Jake wondered what choice Cal had. In most games, he’d have pulled Dan at the end of the seventh. But this was the last game of the year, any way you sliced it. Nothing to save Dan’s arm for until Spring Training in March.
“Please. I’m begging you,” Dan pleaded.
Jake expected the ace pitcher to go down on his knees at any moment. With two outs, Dan couldn’t settle for a sacrifice, he had to make the bunt work and get safely to first base.
“Okay, okay. Just don’t fuck it up.” Cal shook his head but motioned Dan to the plate.
Jake shot a look at Matt, who was smiling and making the thumbs up sign. Dan raised his hand. The fans went berserk to see the pitcher coming to the plate with the ‘Hawks two runs ahead and two men on base. Jake shuddered. The double-play possibilities were huge. He crossed his fingers and held his breath.
Nat, Bobby, and Skip came up beside him.
“If he pulls this fuckin’ miracle off, you’re next, Nat,” Skip said.
“He’ll never make it,” Nat replied.
“Don’t be so sure,” Jake put in.
The Nighthawks were on their feet in the dug-out. Jake and his buddies stood at the edge, riveted. The slugger watched Dan’s mouth tighten, his lips compressed into a fine line in response to the smug look on the pitcher’s face. Matt was reading the signals the Pirate catcher was sending. The Nighthawks’ men had practiced just this scenario. Jake had seen it and marveled at how well it had worked.
Matt simply nodded for swing and shook his head once for take. Sure enough, the first pitch was a pitchout. Dan took all the way and Chet and Matt hugged their bases. Ball one.
After another ball, then a strike, Matt nodded. Jake tensed. There it was, right down the middle. Dan squared off and laid down the perfect bunt. He took off like his butt was on fire, heading for first base. The ball dribbled along the third base line. The catcher followed it, waiting for it to roll foul, but it never did. By the time it stopped, Dan was safe on first.
Matt had slid into third and Chet hit second. The Nighthawks went nuts in the dugout dancing around and screaming. The crowd was on its feet. And Dan Alexander grinned from ear-to-ear. Cal Crawley shook his head and laughed.
Nat Owen came up to bat.
“You can do it!” Jake shouted. He, Bobby, and Skip stood waiting. Sweat dribbled down Jake’s face. He knew exactly how Nat felt. Two out, bases loaded, top of the ninth, last game in the World Series. Hell, was there ever a situation with more pressure than this? He doubted it.
Nat wasn’t known as a long ball hitter. Even a single would bring home Matt, increasing their lead to three zip. But that wasn’t enough to guarantee a win. Nothing was. Jake knew that in situations like this, men often became superhuman, pulling out skills they didn’t even know they had. He shut his eyes and muttered a prayer.
“Nat can do it,” Skip said, nodding.
“He has to do it,” Jake agreed.
Their teammates stood at the entrance, some paced. Most held their breath. The first pitch. A strike! Skip let out a breath.
“Shit,” Bobby said.
Jake raised his palm. “Give him a chance.”
Second pitch, a ball. Jake let out the air he’d been holding. Tension thickened the air, Cal paced. Skip and Jake moved up to the stairs. Sweat poured off Jake’s neck and down his chest.
The ‘Hawks expected Nat to be taking the next pitch. Suddenly, his bat cut through the air and connected. With a loud crack, it soared far and fast. It wasn’t too high. The players gasped as the center fielder raced to the warning track and made an amazing leap, almost connecting with the fly. Jake held his breath. The ball barely grazed the top of the man’s glove. The tip had the opposite effect than the Pirate wanted. The ball went straight up in the air, two feet, but still traveled fast, and landed in the stands. Holy Hell, Nat Owen had hit a grand slam homerun!
Matt, Bobby, and Dan waited at home plate, high-fiving and chest-bumping each other while a stunned Nat Owen ran the bases. When he reached home plate, the entire team poured out of the dugout to mob their first baseman.
The umpire signaled for the men to clear the area. Bobby Hernandez was up next. He popped up to the third baseman, and the Pirates came to bat.
Dan Alexander was still pitching. Pumped up by his amazing bunt single, he appeared energized, not tired. He struck out the first batter. The crowd tensed. Two outs away from winning the World Series.
Jake’s mouth got dry. He pulled his cap up to improve his vision, crouched, and put his weight on the balls of his feet. He needed to be ready for anything. The wind-up. The pitch and blam! A line drive right shot right at the first baseman. But there was Nat, his glove almost smoking from catching that powerful hit. Two down. The fans grew restless.
The windup. The pitch. Dan walked the next batter. Bobby, Skip, and Jake were on high alert now. They needed to get this guy out. The next pitch was hit. The ball aimed toward third. It took a funny hop, heading right for Jake. He jumped a foot in the air and caught the ball on the bounce. In mid-air, he twisted and rifled the ball to Skip, who was covering second.
Boom! Out number three! The Nighthawks’ had won the World Series! The team mobbed Dan Alexander, the circle of men leaping and yelling, expanded like a balloon filling with air. News media hovered around Nat Owen. He was the obvious choice for most valuable player in the series.
Lucy Albright, who had stayed for the game, sauntered over to Nat. She gave him a huge hug and kiss, to the clicking of the cameras. She mugged for the news media, draped all over Nat. He grinned but didn’t speak.
Jake chuckled and shook his head as he watched his friend stare at Lucy’s cleavage, then at her face. Poor Nat. Doesn’t know what to do. After all, she was a big star and Nat was simply a little guy from a small town, who happened to be an excellent baseball player.
Twenty minutes later, Nat returned to the locker room. He opened his hand to reveal a crumpled business card.
“Lucy Albright gave me her card. She told me to call her,” he said, a note of wonder in his voice.
The men laughed. “You scored in more ways than one today,” Bobby said.
“Let me see that,” Chet said.
“Over my dead body,” Nat said, chesting the card.
Jake was first out of the shower. He couldn’t wait to call Kate. When he nabbed his cell from the shelf in his locker, he found there were three calls from her already. He grinned. Not a selfish bone in her body. Hmm, her body. The grin widened. Soon he’d be joining her, traveling with her on the road for month.
Jake needed the rest and figured what better way than to tag along with Kate? Although the idea of a new hotel every week turned him off, being with her would make up for it. And it was time to put forth his agenda.
He joined the team for a big celebration at Freddie’s, on the Nighthawks. Champagne flowed, steaks, chops, and grilled chicken filled the buffet table. The bar and grill was closed to the public for this once-in-a-lifetime party.
Jake sat with his buddies as they recounted the game. Dan and Matt talked about their coup getting Dan on base. Cal congratulated each team member. The men demanded a speech from shy Nat Owen.
Lucy Albright showed up at the party. Nat, with two glasses too many in him, asked her out in front of everyone, and she accepted. The men cheered, then settled down and let her sing a song to Nat.
Seeing her at the piano made Jake nostalgic for the days when Kate used to play and sing. Loneliness separated him from the crowd. He hugged his teammates then hailed a cab back to his apartment. Hell, he needed a good night’s sleep.
After the ticker-tape parade the mayor of New York City had arranged to take place in a week, Jake would wing his way to his girl and a few nights in Dallas.
Before he turned out the light, he checked his phone. There was a text message on it from Kate. She was performing at that time, so he couldn’t call her back.
Can’t wait to see you next week. I have a big surprise!
Jake frowned. Was she going to do the movie? What could her big surprise be? It surely couldn’t be anything as big as the surprise he had cooked up for her. He tucked the covers around his chest and closed his eyes. Today had been the biggest day of his life. But he had a hunch that here might be an even bigger day in store for him real soon.
Epilogue
He didn’t expect her to be at the airport, but there she was. Wearing glamorous sunglasses and a sexy little pink sundress, there she stood, waving at him. He had been stopped for autographs by several people at the baggage claim. People wanted to chat with him about the game as they awaited their luggage.
He only wanted to be with Kate. He scooped her up into a bear hug and twirled her around. She laughed into his neck, tickling him, her arms fastened around him. God, it felt good to have her up against him.
“Let’s go someplace,” he said.
“My hotel room?” she suggested.
He shot her a salacious grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”
A taxi took them into town. They kissed and whispered in the back seat the entire way. Once she closed the door behind them, Jake grabbed her. His hunger for her took over and he stripped her bare in seconds. Then he shed his own clothing.
Finesse went out the window as need ruled his body. He took her quickly and passionately. When they had exhausted their desire, they lay, propped up in bed, each sucking down a bottle of water. Dreading her answer, he knew he had to ask the question.
“Okay, so what’s your surprise?” He took a breath to calm down.
“The surprise? Oh my God. You’re gonna love this. At least I think you are,” she said, casting a skeptical glance his way.
“Shoot.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a tissue.
“So I told you about the movie thing, right?” She faced him.
He nodded, an ache forming in the pit of his stomach.
“You’ll never guess what happened.”
“The suspense is killing me.”
“Okay, okay. So, yes, they’ve decided to do a movie version of the show.”
His stomach dropped.
“They asked Ella, the woman starring in the show on Broadway. The one who originated the role. Right? They thought it would make the movie stronger to have the original star in it. Everyone wants to see the original star, right? So they offered it to her.”
“And she turned it down?” His mouth got dry.
“She accepted!”
He shot her a quizzical look.
“This is the great part. When she accepted, they offered me her role on Broadway!”
“What?”
“Yeah! They’re gonna put her understudy in my place in the road show. They said I have more experience in front of an audience.”
“Oh my God. Really?” His heartbeat doubled. “Th
is means you’re coming back to New York?” He was afraid to believe his ears.
“YES! Yes, yes, yes, and yes! We can be together.”
His prayers had been answered. She wasn’t going to Hollywood. She was coming back to New York. And she’d be a big Broadway star. It was a win/win. How did he get so lucky?
“That’s wonderful. I never thought. I mean. The movie and all. I thought you’d never come back,” he said, stuttering, emotion choking him, tears burning his eyes.
“Oh, Jake! Did you think I’d leave you?”
He nodded.
“I’d never leave you, babe. Never.”
After several deep breaths, he got his voice back. “And I have a surprise for you.”
“Goody. I love surprises. Nice surprises.”
He got out of bed and rifled around in his suitcase.
“It’s time to make you my leading lady, officially, and for a very long run.”
He opened a black velvet box and flashed a ten-carat marquis-cut diamond ring. Her eyes doubled in size.
“Oh my God! Jake! I never expected this.”
“You will, won’t you?”
“Of course! You know I will.”
“Good. For a minute there…”
“Hadn’t we already done this?”
“Not with the ring. It makes it official. Real. That it’s going to happen.”
“I love you so much,” she said, moving closer.
He slipped the ring on her finger. She stared at it, then kissed him. “It’s beautiful!”
“Nothing’s too good for my wife. Geez. God, that sounds great.” He touched her face.
He ordered champagne and chocolate covered strawberries. They ate and drank in bed. Jake flipped on the television. There was still news about the Nighthawks win.
All of a sudden, the picture switched to the ticker-tape parade. Jake had been busy with his team, waving to fans. He didn’t see that the cameras focused on Lucy Albright, hanging all over Nat Owen. Nat had grinned like a ten-year-old locked in a candy store overnight. Then she planted a big one on his lips. In answer to a newswoman’s question, Lucy piped up,
