“What are you going to do about the shirt?” Lauren asked.
“Marcus gave me one of his,” Jill said. “I’m supposed to be in here changing, and coming right back.”
“So, go out there, and then call or text me, once you’re on the road,” Lauren said.
“And yell at you some more?” Jill asked.
“Yeah,” Lauren said. “That’ll be good. I’m looking forward to that.”
After tucking the phone away, she took a few minutes to wash her face, and otherwise compose herself, and then went back out to the parking lot.
“Is this okay, sir?” she asked, trying not to clench her teeth—or, at least, not to be obvious about it.
“Yes, you may board the bus, Cafferty,” he said.
She nodded stiffly, and then climbed up the metal steps with her small knapsack, saying hello to the driver, Stan, as she passed him.
Most of the seats were already taken, and she hesitated, not sure what to do, but then, Sofia—who was sitting up near the front—motioned to the empty seat next to her.
“You want the window?” Sofia asked.
Yes—but, only on the other side of the bus, where the cold metal wouldn’t vibrate directly against her pitching elbow. “I’m fine, thanks,” Jill said, and then sat down, pulling out her iPod and her private phone.
Sofia lowered her voice. “Did you take all of that personally?”
Jill nodded, scrolling through the iPod for something that might be soothing.
“He looks like a dinosaur, but he’s a smart man,” Sofia said.
Yeah, sure. “Treating me like just another ballplayer, right?” Jill said.
“Yes,” Sofia said. “Exactly. I’m glad you already knew that.”
Be nice if she had known. On top of everything else that had happened today, she had also become very stupid, apparently.
Some of the guys—longtime travel and college ball veterans, probably—were all set up with neck pillows, and tablets, and laptops, and snacks, and one of the utility guys, Reilly, even had a guitar—which could end up being tedious, if he spent the next several hours playing it.
Because it was the first road trip of the year, Adler gave a speech about bus protocol—phone calls should be brief and quiet, headphones were required for personal music or movies, so other people could hear if they wanted to watch whatever movie the bus driver put on, and that sort of thing. There were even instructions about using the restroom, and what they should, and shouldn’t, do in there, if at all possible.
A bunch of the guys laughed, and she was a little grossed out—but, well, they were all going to be spending a lot of time together in close quarters, so there was no reason for him not to be blunt.
It would be nice if she could read, but that always made her feel carsick in moving vehicles, so she would listen to music, and—if she was lucky—get a few hours of sleep.
“Do you mind if I text?” she asked Sofia.
Sofia already looked half-asleep, and peered at her through mostly closed eyes. “You have a free pass tonight,” she said. “But, are you one of those people who makes a lot of exclamations about every single response she gets?”
“I’ll try to subdue my chortling,” Jill said.
Sofia gave her a strange look, but then seemed to decide to find that funny, before moving back into a more comfortable sleeping position.
For the first part of the ride, there was a fair amount of conversation and excitement. Would they all still feel energized by road trips a few weeks from now? Probably not, but if she were in a better mood, she would admit that it was pretty cool to be with a bunch of fellow professional baseball players, on their way off to play a series of three games in one town in Pennsylvania, and then three more in another Pennsylvania town, before heading home.
She texted with Lauren for quite a while, and by the time she finally tucked her phone away, Sofia had long since fallen asleep—which Jill envied. Her father had always been able to sack out absolutely anywhere, whenever he wanted, which he said was an army thing. She and her mother and Theo tended to be a lot more restless, and much more nocturnal.
But, if she started thinking too much, she was going to feel even more homesick, and unhappy—and trying to sleep seemed like a smarter idea. Some of the guys were zonked out, although there were still a few conversations going on, and Reilly was plucking away. There was a lot of shifting around, though, because almost all of them were tall, and the seats were designed for much smaller people. Dimitri was stretched out on the aisle floor, with his head on a travel pillow, and mostly, people were managing not to step on him.
She dozed on and off, and listened to music, and felt the highway rumbling under the bus wheels. With luck, Stan was a good driver.
The bus smelled like a locker room, with overtones of very strong aftershave, muscle-relaxing liniment, and just general guy smells, not all of which were pleasant.
At one point, she looked around, and saw Marcus, across the aisle and a couple of rows back, staring at his tablet, and moving his lips every so often. She would have bet at least a thousand dollars that he was sitting there, trying to learn Japanese, while the rest of them were just doing their best to sleep.
It was about two in the morning when Stan pulled up at a roadside McDonald’s and almost everyone got out, and used the restrooms, and bought an astonishing amount of food, especially considering that they had recently eaten a hell of a lot of ziti.
“Growing boys,” Sofia mumbled, and promptly went back to sleep.
Once they got on the road, the bus reeked of Big Macs and french fries. She wasn’t really hungry, but found herself eating a granola bar, anyway—and mentally thanking Mrs. Wilkins from the bottom of her heart for bringing the new care package over.
Every so often, she would hear someone spit rhythmically into a cup, and wondered how anyone could possibly enjoy chewing tobacco. A couple of the coaches and several of the players were addicted to the stuff, even though it had been outlawed for years in the minors, and any player who got caught would be fined.
At about four in the morning, the bus pulled over at another rest stop, and most of the guys didn’t even wake up. The rest of them stumbled outside, and she was amazed to see several people buying even more burgers and fries.
For her part, she went in to use the restroom, and then stood under the dark sky for a few minutes, taking deep breaths of fresh air—and wasn’t the only one doing so.
Stan finished a cigarette, slugged down some coffee, and then warned all of the stragglers to get back on the bus, before he “up ’n left ’em to fend for themselves in the forest.”
This wasn’t even a particularly long ride—but, it felt endless. As though she had trapped herself into a nightmarishly long summer.
A really long career, for that matter.
Damn. Why in the hell hadn’t she just gone to Stanford?
CHAPTER 18
They got to their motel around six in the morning. Everyone, including Adler and the coaches, was groggy and a little short-tempered, and there wasn’t much conversation. People mostly just wanted their room keys, so they could go in and get some more sleep. Louis was also handing out their per diem meal money—twenty-five dollars each—and checking their names off on a sheet of paper.
Jill had been assigned to share a room with Sofia, since they were all doubled up, except for Adler, as far as she knew.
“Which bed you want?” Sofia asked, sounding half-asleep.
“I don’t care,” Jill said.
Sofia grunted assent, dumped her travel duffel on the bed closest to the door, and then lurched off to the bathroom.
Except for sleepovers with people like Lauren, she had never shared a room with anyone before, other than her family, when they went on trips. Her family tended to be—private—about pretty much everything, and give each other a lot of space. But, before she got too anxious and homesick, it was probably worth remembering that going away to college would have meant
having a stranger as a roommate, too.
Sofia came out in nothing but a baggy T-shirt and underpants, and got into bed, pausing only to set an alarm on her phone, and to call the front desk and leave a wake-up call for nine-thirty.
“Try not to make noise,” she said—and then, conked out with no apparent effort.
Jill took a Star Wars T-shirt, some sweatpants, and her toothbrush out of her bag, and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. It was really weird to be going to sleep at six-thirty in the morning.
She would have liked to stream a Buffy episode or something, but even with earbuds, she was afraid of disturbing Sofia with the flickering light of the show. So, she decided to read on her iPad for ten minutes—which turned into an hour. Right now, she was working on War and Peace, which was a slog, but she was churning her way along—and whenever it seemed just too damn ponderous, she would switch off to a mystery or a beach book for a while.
Their wake-up call seemed to come about thirty seconds after she finally managed to close her eyes. Sofia wasn’t exactly the perky type—but, she was alert and efficient, and almost out the door by the time Jill had managed to get from sitting on the edge of the bed, to considering standing up.
“Don’t forget to be there for the bus at twelve-fifteen,” Sofia said, already on her way out. “It will leave without you.”
It wasn’t quite “Good morning! What a wonderful day!”—but it was helpful information.
Sofia paused, one hand on the door. “Was it just because yesterday was awful, or does it happen every night?” she asked.
That didn’t sound good at all. Jill looked at her nervously. “What do you mean?”
“The nightmares,” Sofia said.
Well, she knew she had nightmares—it had been happening regularly for several years, but didn’t know that they were noisy. At least, not every night. “I have no idea,” Jill said.
Sofia frowned, then nodded, and left the room.
With luck, they had just been gasping and thrashing-around nightmares, and not screaming ones.
She kept sitting on the bed, taking in the fact that she was all by herself, in a motel room, somewhere in Pennsylvania—and couldn’t quite remember ever feeling this lonely. So, she put through a video call to her mother, who must have been expecting that, because she picked up right away.
“How are you today?” her mother asked.
“Okay,” Jill said. More or less, anyway. “I wanted to say hi, that’s all.”
“Did you sleep?” her mother asked. “You look exhausted.”
She wasn’t about to admit that she’d had audible nightmares. “Well, it was a long ride, but I’m in the motel in State College, and it’s—well, fine, I guess. Is Maggie okay?”
“Yeah, she just came inside,” her mother said, and pointed the screen at Maggie, who was napping comfortably on her orthopedic bed.
God, she missed Maggie. And she was pretty sure she didn’t have nearly as many nightmares when Maggie was keeping her company.
“Did you know they call that part of Pennsylvania ‘Happy Valley’?” her mother asked.
News to her. “I haven’t seen any signs of that,” Jill said, “but I kind of haven’t left the room yet.”
“What about breakfast?” her mother asked.
Well, there was the whole problem of not leaving the room. “Mrs. Wilkins gave me some granola bars,” Jill said. “And the room has one of those little coffeemakers, so I’m good.”
Her mother did a poor job of not looking worried. “What about your teammates?” she asked. “Do they all have breakfast together?”
Probably, yeah. “I don’t know,” Jill said. “No one really tells you anything, and—” Which reminded her of something. “Oh, could you maybe mail me a couple of shirts? Like, maybe the green Lacoste one, and the red NHS one?”
“Sure,” her mother said. “But, what’s wrong with the shirts we just got you?”
“Mr. Adler wouldn’t let me on the bus,” she said, noticing that she was still damn angry about it. “You’re supposed to have a collar, but no one told me, and—they were all laughing, until Marcus let me borrow one of his. Except it’s huge, and it looks stupid.”
Her mother sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s such a strange new world you’re in. What’s the motel address? I’ll get a package together right now, but I’m not sure if they’ll deliver on Sunday.”
Good point. “I don’t know,” Jill said. “Maybe the Wilkinses’ house? Because I only have one there, and I guess we need to wear them a lot.”
“Okay, I’ll send them right off,” her mother said. “I’m sorry they laughed. It seems very unkind.”
“Lauren thinks that was just them acting like normal players, and not picking on me—but, I don’t know,” Jill said. “Maybe she’s right.” And maybe they hadn’t actually been laughing that much—although it had certainly felt that way.
They talked for a while longer, with her mother expressing sympathy—repeatedly, and reassuring her that Maggie truly was fine, and then trying to cajole her into considering venturing out of the room.
There was a sudden pounding on the door.
“Hey, Ladybug!” a voice yelled, and there was more pounding. “Come on, Mother found a diner.”
“Who’s that?” her mother asked.
“Probably Scott,” Jill said. “Maybe he wants me to go to breakfast with them.”
“Okay, that’s good,” her mother said. “I like Scott. Go do that.”
It probably made more sense than hiding in her room for the next couple of hours, until it was time to get on the bus to the ballpark.
When she opened the door, it was Scott, standing with Marcus and Hector and Jonesy.
“Come on, Ladybug,” Scott said. “Get suited up, we’re waiting for you.”
Apparently, she had a nickname now. “Can I meet you out front in ten minutes?” she asked.
“We’re very hungry,” Hector said, “so it’s cruel. But, if you must.”
She glanced at Marcus. “I think I need to wear your shirt again, until my mother can send me some of mine.”
He nodded patiently. “That’s fine, Jill. Hustle up, okay?”
Yes, sir. “Be right out,” she said.
“There’s no such thing as a girl, and ‘right out,’” Jonesy was saying to the others, as she closed the door.
She wasn’t exactly high-maintenance, but she did need to take a fast shower and everything. It took her about twelve minutes to join them outside, but Marcus was the only one she saw check his watch. Dimitri and a bullpen guy named Danny, who looked about thirteen years old, had joined the group, and they ended up at a diner that was about three blocks away, crowded into two adjacent booths.
Everyone was carefully budgeting their per diem, although she had looked up “The Palisades,” and found out that Hector really was from one of the very most exclusive parts of Los Angeles, and was probably not hurting for pocket change. And she and Scott were in pretty damn good shape, too, given their contracts—but, that didn’t mean that anyone else at the table was, and she decided that it would be tactful to stay within her per diem, too.
Hector—who guys were calling “Mr. Health,” because he kept a prized jar of raw Manuka honey in his locker, from which he would have one spoonful before each game as “a tonic”—ordered an egg white omelet, with a side of fruit and some cottage cheese, but almost everyone else went with things like pancakes and waffles, and Jonesy got something called The Lion’s Feast, which cost almost eleven dollars, but had a large array of eggs, pancakes, and breakfast meats, including scrapple. Marcus ordered poached eggs on toast, bacon, sliced tomatoes, and a glass of milk—and muttered to her when she chose French toast and fruit salad that she needed to have some protein. So, she added a side of fried ham and a dish of yogurt, and he seemed to be appeased. Or, anyway, he shut up about it.
Scott was more chirpy than the rest of them put together, and kept stealing food from people’s plates, ev
en after putting away a huge stack of pancakes and four pieces of bacon. Everyone else looked tired, and when they got up, she noticed that Dimitri, in particular, was very stiff. There was no way he could possibly have been comfortable on the bus, even lying in the aisle. During team and pre-game stretches, Louis and Sofia always seemed to do extra trainer-assisted stretching with him, and she assumed that he had a significant injury history.
When they were walking back to the motel, Marcus fell into step with her.
“I wish I could have been more overtly chivalrous yesterday,” he said. “But, I was afraid that would only make things worse.”
It probably would have, yeah, since she didn’t want to look as though she needed protecting. “Scott told me Andrew”—to whom she had still never really spoken—“had a very—strong—reaction,” she said.
Marcus nodded. “Still waters there.”
Apparently so. Someday, she and Andrew might even exchange words. “Should I have picked up the check?” she asked. “I mean, to be nice?”
He shook his head. “No, you don’t want to throw it in guys’ faces. But, pay for a really good post-game spread some night, and you’ll win quite a few fans.”
That sounded like wise advice, and she nodded.
Because it was the second day after her start, this would just be a workout day for her. Lots of stretching, time in whatever weight room the visiting team got to use—lower body and core work, predominantly, playing a little catch, and either long toss or throwing a football with Scott’s road roommate, Danny. She would also probably run some stadium steps, and do a series of sprints. Plus, they would have team stretch, and maybe some PFP, too, depending on the home team’s schedule.
The stadium turned out to be unusually nice, with huge weight room and exercise facilities, a large indoor hitting cage and pitching mounds, and even a dedicated media room. Penn State’s varsity baseball team used the same field during their season, so there were actually three clubhouses, and she would have the Penn State one all to herself, for changing and showering, while they were in town.
Visiting teams were always assigned shorter batting practice sessions than home teams were, and she stood in the outfield with Shosuke and Danny. He was a high school pitcher from Louisiana, who had a mighty thick Cajun accent, and relied heavily on a good sinker and getting people to ground out.
A Season of Daring Greatly Page 20
