by Tabatha Kiss
“Why aren’t you jumping up and down with a sign, shaking your boobs around?” Rose jabs. “He seems like your type of guy.”
“Not really in the boob-shaking mood today.”
She says nothing, but I can tell she wants to. I should probably watch my tone. The last thing I want to do is make this summer even more awkward but my patience seems to wear pretty thin nowadays.
The game begins soon after and I almost have to cover my ears at the uproarious screams piercing my brain the second Home Run Hunter graces the field.
“Now batting for New Jersey — second baseman, Hunter Novak!”
He walks away from the dugout with his helmet on and bat in hand, moving slowly with his head up to milk every damn second of it.
“Ooo, a lefty!” Rose says.
I pause and watch as he hovers over home plate with the bat over his left shoulder. “Looks like…” I say.
The crowd hushes and the entire stadium leans forward, just waiting to see if Home Run Hunter will live up to his name.
“Why don’t they all wear helmets?” Rose asks, cutting the silence.
I glance at her. “What?”
“Helmets,” she says again. “That ball could go anywhere. Blink at the wrong time and bam—” She slaps her palms together. “Dead.”
“Uh…” I stare at the field. “I don’t know.”
“It just seems a little backwards that the guy hitting the ball is the only one wearing protection,” she continues.
I sigh. “Maybe…”
“Okay, what’s up with you?” Rose asks, nudging my ribs. “This is our thing. I poke fun at baseball, you talk shit about football. It’s fun. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I say, inhaling deep. “Sorry — just a little distracted.”
“Bullshit.”
I look at her to find her staring at me. “What?”
“You’ve been acting strange all summer and I can only think of one thing that could be bothering you.”
“Global warming?” I quip.
“My engagement.”
“No.” I shake my head, really not wanting to go there right now. “Rose, I’m happy for you. I am.”
“Then, what’s the deal? Every time I bring it up, you roll your eyes.”
“No, I don’t.”
She points at my face. “There! See? You just did!”
“I just think you guys are moving too fast,” I spit. “You’ve known the guy less than a year, Rose. How do you know this is the right guy for you anyway?”
“When you know, you know. I can’t explain it — but don’t even blame the timing on this, Daisy. I know you and there’s something else bothering you.”
I look forward as the pitcher launches a curve ball. Home Run Hunter doesn’t fall for it and lets it sail right into the catcher’s mitt. I try to focus on the game instead of Rose’s stare burning my skin but she elbows my ribs again.
“Ouch!” I flinch.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“You mean the pain in my side or the one in my ass?”
She heaves an impatient sigh. “Fine. Be a bitch.”
“Okay, fine.” I twist in my seat to stare her down. “I’m pissed off you’re getting married. I’m pissed off that you’re out there at the perfect school with the perfect job and the perfect guy that’s just perfect for you. There. Are you happy? I admit it. You’re the fucking golden child and this engagement just gives Mom yet another thing to gloat to her friends about you while I sit out here and be forgotten about.”
Rose blinks. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” I say, turning forward. “I made it all up. Watch the game.”
“No, Daisy—”
The crowd screams, voices crying out around us. All eyes look upward, trailing a ball flying straight towards our section.
“Home Run Hunter! Home Run Hunter!”
A man a few rows down throws his gloved hand up into the air, preparing to catch it. The ball skims the edge of his mitt and slides free… angled straight towards my head.
“Ow…”
I wince and slide out of my seat onto the rock solid concrete.
“Daisy!”
Rose cries out my name. Black pain takes over my senses and the sun dims from my vision as I pass out at her feet.
Ugh. Just perfect.
Chapter 6
Hunter
“Wow…” the nurse says again. “It’s not every day we get guys like you in here!”
I flash her a smile as we board the elevator. “Guys like who?”
“Oh, you know…” Her young cheeks turn a bright red. “Real pro athletes.”
“I’m nothing special,” I say, waving a hand.
“That’s not what my husband would say!” she says. “He’s a big fan.”
The elevator opens on the second floor and we step off into the busy hospital hallway.
“Well, you be sure to tell him I said hi,” I smile.
She blushes again. “Oh, I will! And thank you for coming out here today. I’m sure she’ll really get a kick out of it.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
It’s also not my choice. Not that I wouldn’t have stopped by in the first place but, generally speaking, when a fan gets knocked out by your home run, you go visit them in the hospital to make sure they’re okay. That’s just good manners and good press, as the team manager was quick to point out.
The nurse pauses by a room and points inside. “This is it!”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “You wouldn’t happen to know her name, would you?”
“Daisy,” she answers.
I pause. “Daisy? Really?”
“Yep. I remember because it sounded so pretty.”
“Yeah, it does…”
“Have fun…” she giggles, “Home Run Hunter!”
I chuckle as she walks off but my feet refuse to move inside. Quick flashes of memory pop into my head. Blonde hair, blue eyes hidden behind long lashes. Tongue as seductive and wild as a snake. I haven’t been back to this city since that night.
But there’s no way that this is the same Daisy.
I take a few steps in and those small details of her come roaring back as I see her face. She lies asleep with a large, white bandage wrapped around her head but I’d recognize those cheekbones anywhere. Her small, sharp nose. That thick, black eyeliner around her lids. Even my nose twitches, somehow detecting that intoxicating scent of her.
This is definitely the same Daisy I brought home with me that night.
I mean… Jenny.
“Hello?”
I flinch at the familiar voice and turn around to see her standing in the bathroom doorway, too.
“Hello…” I say, reaching up to slide my baseball cap off.
She looks at me through thick, brown frames. “Can I help you?”
I smile. That’s right. She did mention she had a twin sister. “I’m Hunter Novak,” I say, extending my hand to her. “I’m the ball player that hit the…” I point to my head and she nods.
“The home run,” she says. “The one that knocked my sister unconscious…”
I wince. “Yeah, that one.”
She shakes my hand. “I’m Rose.”
“Rose…” I smile, “and Daisy.”
Yeah,” she smirks with rolling eyes, “you can blame my dad for that crap.”
I laugh and turn towards the bed. “So, is she…?”
“She drifts in and out but that’s mostly just the pain meds she’s on. The doctor says she’ll be fine, but if the ball had hit her straight on instead of sliding off that guy’s glove first… she may not have been so lucky.”
I exhale hard. “Good.”
Christ, I nearly killed her.
“You’re welcome to stay until she comes around again,” she says. “It shouldn’t take too long and I’m sure she’d like to meet you. She’s a big baseball nerd.”
More details come roaring back to me. Daisy lik
es baseball — she wants to be a sports photographer. “Thanks. I will.”
Rose grabs her purse off the bedside table. “I’m going to find a vending machine somewhere. There’s only so many peanuts and crackerjacks a girl can take — no offense to your sport.”
“None taken,” I chuckle.
“I’ll be right back.”
She leaves us, taking one last glance at Daisy before disappearing out the door.
How weird is this?
I sit down in the chair beside her and stare at her, gently shaking my head at the absurdity of it all. Without thinking, I lay my hand beside hers on the bed, careful not to disturb the IV poking out of the back of her hand.
“Hmm…”
Daisy stirs and I pull my arm to my lap as her eyes flutter open and she glances around. I sit forward and smile, patiently waiting until she finally realizes I’m here.
“Hello, Jenny.”
She squints at me, sitting still for a long, strange moment. “What the fuck?” she hums.
“Yeah, I thought the same thing.”
She pushes up into a sitting position and I see the pain wash across her face.
“Hey, maybe you shouldn’t—”
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asks.
I grin. “Well… I hit the ball that… hit you…”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You’re a bartender,” she argues.
“In the off-season, yes.”
She pauses, blinking her bright eyes once per second. “Wait—”
“Oh, hey! You’re awake.” Rose returns with a soda and a few snack cakes in her hands. “I see you’ve met Hunter.”
“Hunter?” Daisy repeats. She shakes her head but instantly regrets it. “You’re Home Run Hunter?”
“Yep.” I flash a wink at her but I think that just pisses her off a little more.
Her mouth sags. “You lied to me?”
“Hey, you lied to me first,” I point out. “I was just following your lead.”
“You little bastard!”
“Daisy, hey… calm down…” Rose lays a hand on her shoulder and chuckles awkwardly at me. “She must be a little confused right now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were a damn baseball player?!” Daisy spits, ignoring Rose.
“You didn’t ask,” I answer.
“But I told you what I did.”
“Well, I asked…”
Rose blinks. “Okay, what’s going on?”
A man in a white coat barges in and smiles wide as he looks at Daisy. “Oh, good. You are awake.” He pauses by the foot of the bed with a chart in his hands. “How are we feeling right now, Daisy?”
“My fucking head hurts,” she says, her eyes firing daggers at me.
“Sorry,” I whisper at her.
“That is to be expected,” the doctor says, “but I have some good news for you. You have a slight concussion but brain scans show nothing else out of the ordinary. No fractures, no permanent damage. You can go home as soon as you feel ready but you’ll want to take it easy for a few days. Use some sick days at work, if you can.”
“Sure.” Daisy keeps her rage pointed at me. “Sounds just peachy, Doc…”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Rose says, making up for her twin’s rudeness. “That’s really good news.”
“And… even better news,” he continues, “the fetus appears to be healthy and intact.”
We both twitch and Daisy breaks her eye contact with me to gawk at him instead.
“What fetus?” she asks.
Chapter 7
Daisy
“Your fetus,” Dr. Whatever repeats.
The word echoes off the walls of my brain, bouncing around so much it makes me want to vomit.
“I don’t have a fetus.”
He pauses. “You didn’t know about the baby?”
“What baby?” I ask, looking at Rose.
She holds up her hands and chuckles. “Don’t look at me.”
Hunter stands up from his chair. “I should go…”
I point a stiff finger at him. “Don’t you move!” He freezes and I look at the doctor again. “What baby?”
Rose rubs my shoulder. “Honey, I think he’s telling you that you are pregnant…”
“No, I’m not!”
The doctor grins at me like a moron. “Blood work like this doesn’t lie. It seems congratulations are in order.”
My eyes drift back to Hunter and he shakes his head.
“Daisy, no—”
“You knocked me up?!”
“I did not!”
“Yes, you did!”
“Daisy…” Rose says, “you know you can’t get pregnant by being hit in the head with a baseball, right?”
I exhale. “Gee, Hermione, just how did Harry and Ron survive without you?”
Hunter points at me with panic in his eyes. “I didn’t do this! There were condoms. Lots of condoms!”
“Well…” the doctor says, “condoms aren’t one-hundred percent effective—”
“Shut up!” Hunter and I shout back at him.
Rose scratches her head. “Okay, I’m really missing something here…”
I look at Hunter, ignoring the screaming and throbbing between my ears. “It couldn’t be anyone else.”
He opens his mouth to argue but stops. His eyes soften, slowly falling for a second before he finally speaks. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “I’m sure.”
He stands there for a few moments, barely breathing, before collapsing back onto his chair.
“Okay…” the doctor says, still grinning. “Daisy, before you leave, I’d like to perform an ultrasound upstairs. Just a quick peek inside to be sure everything is going well in there.”
I stare at my hands. “Yeah, sure.”
He spins on his shiny heels and bolts out of the room.
“Rose,” I begin, watching her fidget beside me, “can you give us a minute, please?”
Her eyes flick between us. “Okay…”
“We’ll be fine,” I assure her.
She steps backward towards the door, her face contorted with as much confusion as I feel.
I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby. I’m having his baby.
I look at Hunter. He’s leaning forward with his head between his knees, no doubt just as shocked as I am.
How weird is this?
I sit in silence, listening to the harsh sounds of his breathing in and out with quick, controlled bursts.
Finally, he sits back and looks at me.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Did I mention the headache?”
“I’m sorry — I just…” He shakes his head. “This is crazy.”
“I know.”
“I mean… I never thought that…”
“That what?”
“That I’d ever see you again,” he says.
I pause. It’s not the first reaction I expected. “Did you even want to?”
“It wouldn’t have been the worst thing… right?”
“No, I guess not.” We stare at each other. “So… I’m pregnant…”
“Yeah.”
“And you are a baseball player.”
He sits forward and extends his hand to me. “Hunter Novak.”
I smile, exhaling hard. It feels a little absurd to shake the hand of the man that’s already knocked me up. “Daisy Hawthorne,” I say.
He holds onto me and I feel his body heat filling my fingers. Crazy doesn’t quite cover it. I never thought I’d see this guy again but now I’m pregnant with his kid? How the hell did I miss that?
“How did you know?” I ask, dropping his hand. “That I lied to you and gave you that fake name.”
He grins. “Your ID.”
I close my eyes, slightly embarrassed. “You mean bartenders actually read those things?”
“They do,” he nods.
“Noted. Why di
dn’t you say anything?”
“I figured you had your reasons,” he says. “And if I had said something, would you have left with me?”
“Probably not,” I chuckle. “It was a good night.”
“But now you’re pregnant.”
“Yeah.” My smile fades. “I guess I am.”
He takes a deep breath. “So, what do we do?”
The question lingers between us for a long moment but it’s not the unanswerable question that keeps me quiet.
It’s the way he said ‘we.’
We. Him and me.
“Hunter… you don’t have to…” I sigh, stumbling over my words. “You don’t have to be involved. You’re Home Run Hunter. Your career is taking off and this would just…”
“Daisy,” he says, “I’m not one of those guys. If this is really my kid then I’m responsible for it. I’m responsible for you.”
“I can take care of myself, Hunter.”
“I never said you couldn’t. But I can’t just—”
“It’s okay,” I say. “Really. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll be fine.”
He scoffs. “No, you won’t be.”
I sit back. “What would you know? You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough,” he says. “Uneducated. A buck over minimum wage, if I recall…”
“Well, maybe I was lying about that, too. Have you considered that?”
“You weren’t.”
I frown. “Wow, you’re cocky.”
“And you’re stubborn. Daisy, let me help you.”
“You know, I probably won’t even keep it, Hunter. I think it’s better if we go our separate ways, okay?”
He stares at me, blinking slowly. “If that’s what you want…”
“It is.”
Hunter stands from his chair. “Look… we obviously need some time to let this sink in.” He grabs a notepad on the bedside table and finds a pen. “If you change your mind or if you want to talk about it some more, I’m staying at the Downtown Inn, Room 2-1-7. We’re leaving tomorrow around noon but you can call me anytime before then.”
He tears the page off and hands it to me.
“Okay,” I say.
“And I’m sorry…” he pauses.
“Hey,” I chuckle. “Mistakes happen.”
“No, I mean…” He points to the bandage on my head. “The baseball.”
