Clutch Hit

by Faith O'Shea

  Her voice was coated with insecurity.

  “I can’t do this.”

  “Can’t do what, hon?”

  “Trust this. He was… Women were… They love him… and it seems he loves them back.”

  “Allie, you’re wrong. Not about loving women. He loves everyone. He’s developed such close relationships with the guys, he’s helping everyone, you know this. You get the reports.”

  She had. And she’d seen it for herself. He’d gotten Rique to wait for the right pitch, and to adjust his swing to connect with the ball being pitched. He’d hung with Buzzley when he thought he could use some support. He’d discussed strategy with Ovitz, and the two of them were becoming the one-two punch she’d hoped they’d be. He’d taken Seb under his wing, keeping confidences on both sides of the fence. And he was helping Heredia with his English. The Venezuelan still spoke very little and she’d overheard Mateo translating for him during one of their meetings. In the last few days, he was getting as many texts from the team as she was. But…

  She had to get into work mode, stay busy, outrun the swirling emotions that were close on her heels. It was the only thing that would keep her on course.

  After taking a deep breath, she admitted, “Can’t dwell on it now. Too much to do.”

  She geared into warp speed, leaving Casey behind with her mouth hanging open to check in at the clubhouse, flittering in and out so quickly no one had the chance to engage with her. She checked in with the ticket sales coordinator, showing no pleasure that they’d sold out. She was running back and forth between her office and other areas of the stadium, not taking a breath for fear she’d sit down and bawl her eyes out.

  She was a bundle of energy when her father dropped in to say hello right before the first pitch, skittering around like a chicken with its head chopped off.

  “Hey Allie girl, you ready for your first win?”

  He stopped in his tracks and stared.

  “What the hell has you in such a lather?”

  “Lots to do.”

  “I’m your father, remember? I know you. This isn’t your normal behavior the day of a game.”

  He was right. She was usually cool as a cucumber, fresh as a daisy… You’re going ’round the bend with all these silly idioms.

  When he said, “I talked to Mateo—” she cut him off without a backward glance. “Don’t care. Gotta go.”

  She spun on her heel and ran down the concourse and down the steps, heading for the food court. She wasn’t hungry but needed another can of Coke. Maybe Red Bull. Coffee? Something that would keep her from standing still.

  “Allie.”

  It was Casey’s voice calling from behind, her footsteps hurried in order to catch up.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You haven’t stayed in one place for more than a few minutes.”

  “If I stop…”

  There was a hitch to her voice that Casey couldn’t have missed. When she felt the arm around her waist, she went limp.

  “Dad is looking for you. He has a couple of questions, but I’ll tell him I couldn’t find you. You have to talk to Mateo before you make any rash decisions.”

  Her laugh bordered on hysteria.

  “Rash decisions? I married a man who I knew less than a week. What can be rasher than that?”

  She’d married him for all the wrong reasons. It had been lust that had consumed her, not love. You couldn’t love someone if you didn’t trust them. And she trusted so few. And those few had earned it over years, by proving she could.

  Casey pulled her to a corner of the underground tunnel where they could talk without any witnesses to her meltdown.

  “You, yourself, told him part of his job was mingling with the crowd. You can’t get mad at him for following your instructions.”

  “I didn’t tell him to fawn over the women.”

  “I saw no fawning.”

  Allie glanced up and met her friend’s eyes. “What were you doing watching them?”

  “Look, I’m dealing with my own issues. How can you help me, if you’re fucked up over this?”

  Trying to convince herself, she said confidently, “I’m not. I’m gearing up to make a change.”

  “That reminds me of Mario Super Cart. Have you ever played?”

  She shook her head.

  “At the beginning of the game, there are two cars, wheels spinning as they wait for take-off. They’re revving up for the race ahead. Is that what you’re doing? Spinning wheels, burning rubber, getting ready to run?”

  “Like I said, I can’t do this. I can’t relax if I think he’s going to—”

  “Do what Steve did? He’s so not Steve. If Mattie isn’t with you, he’s thinking about you.”

  “He certainly wasn’t thinking about me when he had his arms around those women.”

  Casey was shaking her head. “I never thought I’d say this, but you need to get over yourself. They have fans and you’re going to have to deal with that. Don’t you think my dad had his fair share of women hanging on him any chance they got? But he never once gave any woman other than my mother his love. You have that, Allie. You have his love.”

  “I don’t know that. He’s never said…”

  “Yeah, we’ll maybe that’s because he’s not sure of you, either. Almost everyone who knows you thinks you’re with him because of the team, and I’m not sure they’re being as secretive about their opinions as they could be.”

  Casey grasped her by the shoulders and went nose-to-nose with her.

  “And one more thing to chaw on while you’re in this mood. You never let Steve in. You’re good about keeping those walls up. I know it has to do with your mother. Shit, I’d probably have the same kind of doubts about someone leaving but you opened the door with Mattie. You let him in, which tells me you love him. Maybe you could get around to telling him one of these days. See what he says.”

  No way was she going there. There’d be nothing worse if she actually expressed it in words and got no response. Yes, there would. He could tell her they were finished.

  There was a roar from the crowd, and both heads jerked up to the watch on the screen that hung from the rafters. Mateo had just hit a home run and he was running around the bases, Rique slightly ahead of him. The score was two-nothing in the bottom of the third. Reid being Reid, had kept the opposing team from getting more than a single. If she knew Mac, he’d be taking the ball away soon whether Reid wanted to give it up or not.

  How had she missed three innings? She was usually glued to her seat, keeping track of everyone’s ups, fieldwork, chemistry.

  She was about to say something when she noticed Casey’s eyes still focused on the monitor. Seb was up at bat and she saw longing as deep as her own. Letting go her demons, she stood quietly by her friend’s side until Seb had flown out and was heading back to the dugout, leaving Ovitz on second. By the time they returned to their seats, Sutherland was on the mound, Josh Holbrook was on third, Lyman Bullock was in left field, and Peter Knight was at shortstop. It made it easier to watch the play. Her heart wasn’t on the field anymore. Neither was Case’s.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Mateo felt good. There was nothing like a ball game to get him in the zone. He hoped Allie had been watching when he hit the homer. The blast had put them ahead and he hoped they stayed there. Sutherland didn’t have the same kind of stuff that Jackson did, but his curve ball was working for him, and Motts was framing the ball well. Reid wasn’t the only one who’d been pulled. They had completely changed the roster and the line-up. He’d been warned that he wouldn’t last longer than a few innings. The team had too many kids here, playing their hearts out for a spot on the team. His place might be secure, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want to play every minute of the game or give it his all every time he was out there.

  He was watching the play from the dugout, his arms resting on a wooden partition, Rique and Seb beside him. Seb slapped his back and said, “Great hit, bud. Tell me how you do it?
”

  “You get your head out of your ass and watch the ball, not for a glimpse of Casey.”

  Rique had put that one out there. He wouldn’t have put it that bluntly.

  Suddenly concern was etched deep on Seb’s forehead, and as he began to pace, he spilled out what was on his mind. “She didn’t have a ring on the last time I saw her. Why? Is she just not wearing it? Did she break up with him? Did he dump her? How is she? Is she hurt?” Seb was directing his glare to him, his hands fisted by his sides. It was common knowledge he was spending all his free time with Allie and if anyone knew what had happened, it would be her.

  He gave away would he could. “She broke it off and she’s doing okay.”

  “Did he hurt her?” Not giving him time to answer, Seb growled. “No, he wouldn’t have. Mac would have eaten him for lunch.”

  “Maybe you should—”

  Seb’s nostrils flared and he bared his teeth. “What? Give her my condolences? Sorry. Don’t have any to give.”

  Rique said quietly, as if not wanting to further enflame the beast, “You better figure out what you want or it’s going to be a long season.”

  The anger burst like a popped balloon, and Seb said sullenly, “I want her to be happy.”

  Mateo wasn’t sure that was all Seb wanted. Was he blind to what he felt? Or still denying himself the chance to settle down, grow a family? He glanced over from time to time, not knowing what kind of advice to give. He knew more than he was letting on, but he couldn’t breach Allie’s trust. He’d have to stay mute on the subject until things were resolved, if they ever were.

  They watched the rest of the game, and although he was restless on the sidelines, he was excited about the prospect of winning even from this vantage point. Nap was playing as if his life depended on it, the young kid from the Dominican was not having the best game of his life. He knew most of the players, knew who Allie was most excited about, knew who probably wouldn’t be making the cut this year. But she’d told him there was always a surprise, and there’d be one guy who was under the radar who would rise to the top of the current crop. He’d been watching with interest, anticipating who it was.

  The game ended with the same score it had been when he lifted that ball up over the screen. No one else had been able to put the wood to the ball for more than a single, and there’d been several times men had been stranded on the bases. He wished he’d been out there to hit them home, but he’d have to be satisfied with the contribution he’d made. He was beginning to relax about his worth to the team. His mates were talented, he was having more fun out there than he’d ever had before, the fans seemed genuinely pleased that he was here, and he had Allie to warm his heart. What more could a man ask for?

  Before he could escape to the clubhouse, Lyra snagged his arm. “You have reporters waiting for you. They want an interview with the man who won the game.” She all but dragged him out onto the grass where an NESN reporter waited. Before she retreated to the background, he asked, “Where’s Allie?”

  She was the one who hovered during any kind of media event, and he didn’t understand why she’d sent her assistant. Lyra hurried her steps as if to evade the question, and a strange sensation began curling in his gut. His intuition was telling him something wasn’t right. There was a reason she hadn’t come for him herself. Were there more pressing issues she was dealing with that caused her absence, or was she done with him? Now that she’d accomplished her goal? He was here and he’d shown his power in the batter’s box. Was this as far as she was going with the charade? Was that what it had been for her? Were the guys right when they whispered behind his back, that the only reason she was with him was to make him feel comfortable? They didn’t know they were married, and he wondered what they’d do with that kind of information. Probably call him a fool for believing it was more…

  When the reporter thrust the microphone in front of his face, he let his thoughts go and answered as if this was the only task at hand. But when he was done, Mateo could only stand there, sick at heart, thinking the worst. He showered, dressed quickly in his street clothes, and ignoring the fans who were crowding the concourse, went in search of his wife. No longer looking for a little gratitude for the home run he’d given her, at her request, he was now looking for some assurance that she was still his.

  When he finally found her, in Dan’s office, she avoided all eye contact, told him she had a couple more hours before her day was over and she’d talk to him later. He left, the sharp stab to the heart now a growing ache.

  He waited most of the night, alone in his room, for her call. It never came. He hadn’t slept a wink, the small velvet box his only company. When he crawled out of bed, he put it away for safe-keeping and walked over to her place, needing to know for sure what was going on. It was just yesterday that they’d made passionate love… What had happened in the intervening hours that had made her stop caring for him?

  After he banged on the door and waiting more than a few minutes for her to answer, she finally opened it and faced him, already dressed for the day. She looked cool in her sundress, her sandals exposing her toenails, now painted a deep coral. He held his breath and asked, “Can I come in?”

  She glanced back into the interior of the condo before stepping outside.

  He went to embrace her, but she was stiff in his arms.

  Whispering in her ear, he all but begged, “Alicia, talk to me.”

  She was still avoiding his eyes and her voice broke when she said, “I can’t do this.”

  His anxiety notched up and he scrambled to understand what she was saying.

  “What do you mean? We’ve been doing this, and you seemed as happy as I was. What has changed?”

  “All those women you—”

  He held her by the shoulders, forced her to meet his eyes. They were filled with such uncertainty it made him fear for his life.

  “What women? I have had no other woman but you.”

  Didn’t want any other woman. Didn’t she believe that yet?

  “I saw you out by the spectators’ gallery yesterday, when you were taking pictures with all those female fans. They want you and you appeared to want—”

  “Want them? Over you? You’re not serious, are you?”

  She couldn’t be. She had to know what he felt for her. It took up all the space in his head and heart for there to be room for anyone else. She was his sacred space, where boredom and hurt disappeared.

  Her distress was real. He heard it in her voice, saw it in the way her hands were trembling.

  “You seemed happy, and you were enjoying it. Too much for my peace of mind.”

  He felt irritation flutter to life.

  “What I’m enjoying is the life you’ve given me.”

  He’d never felt such happiness and she was at the center.

  “I know the signs, Mateo. And they’re all there.”

  “You are basing your suspicions on what has happened before. Are you seriously going to tell me I have become all that has caused you pain?”

  “I can’t—”

  Now his anger flared. “Not can’t. Won’t. You won’t take the risk that I’m different or believe that I would never do that to you.”

  “I can’t afford to.”

  “But you can afford to turn away from what we have together? You cannot care for me at all then, and there is nothing I can do or say to change that.”

  Time was the only thing that could prove it and she wasn’t willing to give him that.

  “You’d break my heart, Mateo. I can’t let that happen.”

  “So, you will break mine instead?”

  Her eyes fluttered closed and her breath stuttered. “There are other women out there. You’ll find someone else.”

  He shook her then, trying to make her understand the implausibility of that.

  “It is not that easy, Alicia. There is only one who will touch my soul and that is you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She extricated herse
lf and opened the door, made a move to go back inside, but he grasped her hand, unable to let her shut him out.

  With as much emotion as he could, he said, “I love you with all of who I am, but if you do not love me in the same way, then I must accept that and go. But you must know, mi esposa, that I will carry you in my heart always. Married or not, you are my all.”

  He brushed her cheeks with his fingers, knowing all the happiness he’d savored had just been blown away like sand in the desert.

  And then he walked away, his hands stuffed in his pockets so he wouldn’t reach out again, his heart bleeding. If she would just let him fill her, she would taste the sacredness of their love. His love. He had to remember she didn’t feel the same. There was nothing he could do to change her past, and if she continued to dwell there, he was lost. Mindlessly he walked toward his condo, his thoughts now in disarray.

  She watched him go, wanting to scream, wanting to wail, wanting desperately something she couldn’t have. Wouldn’t allow herself.

  When he’d told her that he loved her, she wanted to throw herself in his arms and never let go. She loved him the same way, with all of who she was. It was the reasons she had to break it off. It would kill her if he…

  Once it was closed, Allie leaned against the door, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Brushing them off her cheeks as Charlie came out of the bedroom, she grabbed her satchel and ran out to the car, not wanting anyone to see her like this.

  She needed to get away, the hole in her heart so big she wasn’t sure she’d ever fill it again. Could it hurt anymore than this if he left her? Was it just her pride that had her backed in a corner? She didn’t know but she had to figure out how to separate the past from the present. Figure out what she could live with and what she couldn’t. He might be the one thing she could never live without.

  She called Lyra and then Dan and then hit the road. She drove for hours, found the coast, and headed south. There was water, wind, and sand and a fist around her heart. It was squeezing the life out of her. She’d done it to herself when she’d told him she couldn’t stay with him—trust him. She’d become vulnerable only after she’d acknowledged she loved her husband, became engulfed in devotion and all the joy that came from it. She’d pictured something terrible coming out of it, the heartache, disappointment, despair. She didn’t want to be blindsided by hurt, and the only way to avoid that was to control the outcome. She had to get off the the merry-go-round she’d been on, leave behind the sweet music, the soothing motion, the intoxicating company. She’d done what she had to do. So why was she so miserable?