Home Run

by Heidi McLaughlin

  She sighs and runs her free hand over my ponytail. “Ainsley, I want you to be happy.”

  “I know.”

  “Love can be such a fragile thing in our lives, and I’ve let something that happened to me so many years ago affect you, and I’m sorry. I only wanted to protect you from my own heartache.”

  “I know,” I say again. “I think I like this guy.”

  “Is he the one you’ve been speaking with at night?”

  I nod and look at her questioningly. She cracks a smile, one that I haven’t seen in a long time. “I’m your mother. I know everything.”

  Laughter quickly fills the room, changing how I feel at the moment. I gently rest my head on her lap, letting her stroke my hair until I’m almost asleep. It’ll be these moments that I miss.

  “Ainsley, do me a favor.”

  “Anything, Mom.” I raise my head and look into her eyes.

  Her hand softly cups my cheek. “Don’t be like me and wait for love to find you. Go out and grab it by the horns, or baseball bat if that is what your heart desires.”

  “Do you think I should?” I ask, trying to fight back the grin that’s forming. I don’t want her to see how eager I am.

  “Of course.”

  “I’m going to go for a walk. Do you want to come? Maybe we could go watch his practice, and you can help me decide if I should tell him how sorry I am for being an epic B to him?”

  She laughs again, but shakes her head. I knew she would say no, but it was worth a shot to get her out of the house. I lightly kiss her on the cheek and check the nurse’s schedule before I leave to make sure someone will be here to cook dinner later.

  I opt to drive instead of walk over to the park. I’ve only ever driven by the Renegades training facility, so I follow the people in front of me, hoping they know where to go. Chairs are lined up in the grass, watching the Renegades practice. I find an open space and sit as close to the fence as I can get.

  The viewpoint from here isn’t that great, but the atmosphere is nice. I listen in on conversations around me; the fans talk about the upcoming season, what they have to do to win, and who is going to shine for the BoRes. When Cooper’s name is dropped, I try to listen a bit harder due to the noise to hear what the people are saying. Phrases like “Rookie of the Year” and “too much hype” causes small rifts between people, making me wonder what Cooper thinks of all of this.

  I’m sure he, along with the other guys, has all been trained to ignore what is being said about him, although I don’t know how he could. I think it would bug me to know that people are always talking about my performance and analyzing everything that I did.

  The ball is hit into center field and easily caught. The name Bainbridge is used, and my heart drops. It’s easy to admit that I came here in hopes of seeing Cooper, but if he’s not playing, there’s no reason to be here.

  “Cooper Bailey.”

  His name is announced over the loudspeaker, and I lean forward trying to peer through the cyclone fence for a look at him.

  “If his team is in the field, why is he batting?” I ask the older gentleman next to me.

  “This is their first nighttime scrimmage under the lights. They’re announcing names to audition a new announcer.”

  “Oh. I gotcha.” I nod along. I suppose it makes sense that this would be the time for on-the-job interviews to happen.

  The sound of the ball cracking against the bat has everyone standing up, including me. The right fielder has turned around, watching the ball over his shoulder. He leaps, trying to catch it, but it sails over his glove and into the mitt of a little kid who seems ecstatic. The announcer yells “home run,” and on instinct, I place two fingers in my mouth and whistle.

  “Sweetie, if you’re going to whistle like that during these games, don’t sit by me, okay? My hearing aids can’t take it.” He laughs as he sits back down and starts jawing at his friend about how Bailey is going to be a shoe-in for Rookie of the Year.

  When the guys switch, Cooper runs out to center field and throws the ball back and forth with the right fielder. From what I can see, he’s laughing. He should be. He’s doing what he’s always dreamed of, according to his bio.

  The game continues for about an hour until everyone disappears into the dugout. Everyone packs up, chatting about the first spring training game in a few days, while I continue to lean up against the fence. I’m in no rush to go home, and the solitude is nice. There’s a peaceful feeling in the park that somehow seems to make everything okay in my life, even when I know it’s not.

  By the time I get to the well-lit parking lot, there are a handful of cars left, and mine is the farthest away. As I pass by a few of them, the guys call out, but I ignore them and walk faster.

  The sound of shoes slapping against the pavement behind me has me walking faster. I can’t believe I’d be so stupid to park this far away from the entrance.

  “Ainsley, wait up.”

  I freeze at the sound of Cooper’s voice and stop, turning around quickly, only to have him run smack-dab into me. We both let out an oomph as he catches me, keeping me from falling to the ground.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, leaving his hands around my waist.

  “You scared me.”

  He looks over his shoulder at the guys behind us, who are making comments, and shakes his head. “Ignore them.”

  “I plan on it.”

  Cooper steps back, putting some distance between us. “What are you doing here?”

  I look at the ground, wondering if I can just be honest with him and—if so—at what cost? “I need to apologize for earlier,” I start off with. “I was a bitch to you, and you didn’t deserve that. I’m going through some health stuff with my mom, and your story about your mother really hit home.”

  “And the fact that you don’t want to date me.”

  I laugh because the look on his face is priceless. He’s mocking himself at my expense.

  “There is that little factoid.”

  “But you’re here?”

  “I am. I thought I’d go for a walk earlier this evening and heard a baseball game, so I drove over to check you guys out.”

  “What’d you think?”

  “It was fun. You hit a home run.”

  His face lights up, and that alone makes this conversation worth it. There’s pride in his features, and the fact that I saw his accomplishment clearly means something to him. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

  My mother’s words echo in my mind. She wants me to be happy. I’m not saying Cooper is the one that will do that, but maybe he is. There is only one way to find out. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  He walks me to my car, keeping his hand on the small of my back the whole time. He gives me his address and asks me to meet him there, and I agree to, knowing that once I do, there is no going back.

  Chapter 11

  Cooper

  “Let’s go,” I tell my two roommates.

  “Hot date?” Brock Wilder asks. I shake my head, climbing into my car.

  “She’s a fine looking-woman,” Frankie Guerra adds. “Is that the chick from the zoo?”

  “Yeah,” I say, pulling out of the parking lot and into traffic. Of course because I’m in a hurry, everyone in front of me is moving slowly, and I’m unable to pass.

  “Damn, rookie, you’re not wasting any time hooking up with the locals,” Wilder states. And even though he’s a rookie, too, the guys on the team have taken to calling me “rookie,” and it’s stuck.

  “It’s not like that.” Even as I say the words, I know it’s not true. I want to spend time with Ainsley, even date her, but what happens when it’s time to leave? Does this become a long-distance relationship where she comes to visit me or I live in Florida in the off-season? Honestly, I’d take Florida over the cold Massachusetts winter anytime, but what about during the season?

  I clear my mind of all those thoughts when I pull into the complex and see that Ainsley is waiting outside her car. I tell
the guys I’ll be up later, hoping they get the idea that I want to be alone with her, and now isn’t the time to get friendly.

  As soon as I’m out of the car, she’s pushing off her Jeep Wrangler to meet me halfway. I’m happy that she’s making an effort to see me. The only thing that can make my night any better is if I’m pulling her into my arms and kissing her. And as much as I want to do that, especially in this moment, it has to wait. I need the green light from her. She’s made her position on us very clear, and I’m not about to cross the line.

  “You’re here,” I state, pointing out the obvious.

  “I said I would be.”

  That she did.

  I look around the complex, trying to find a location where we can go and talk, but our options are limited. My apartment would be ideal, but I don’t want the guys saying shit about her or teasing her. As far as I can tell, she doesn’t give a shit about sports, much less baseball. “Now that I have you here, I don’t know where to go to talk.”

  “I know a place,” she says. “Get in, I’ll drive.” She leaves me speechless as she heads back toward her car. I’m dumbfounded by her change in attitude toward me, but I’m not willing to question it. I’m going to ride this wave as long as I can. I quickly rush to the passenger side and get in.

  “Where are we going?” I ask. I turn my ball cap around to prevent it from flying away since her top is down and it looks like we’re heading toward the parkway.

  “I thought we’d go to the beach.”

  “Isn’t that like thirty minutes away?”

  She glances at me quickly before turning back and focusing on the road. “Do you have a curfew or something?”

  I shake my head. “Nope, drive on.” I may not have a curfew, but six a.m. comes very early, and it’s our last practice before we start preseason play. I suppose, since I went without much sleep in college, one night now isn’t going to hurt me. Besides, it’s for a good cause. I’m into Ainsley, and if she wants to take me to the beach, I’m going to let her.

  She turns up the radio and starts singing along to the song. I know it as well so I join in, and before I know it, we’re having our own karaoke party while we’re cruising down the road. When we hit a stoplight, I expect her to stop singing, but she doesn’t, and the people pulled up along the side of us start singing, too.

  Before I know it, we’re at the beach. The car is shut off, the music has stopped, and the only thing we can hear are the waves crashing onto the shore.

  “Coming here at night affords me the ability to sit and think without too many people around.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “I don’t know. I never thought about that. I suppose in some aspects it’s not, but there are always a few other people around, so…” She gets out of her car before finishing her sentence. She shouldn’t walk the beach alone at night, but who am I to tell her otherwise? I quickly follow her, catching up with her in the sand.

  We walk side by side until the dry sand turns wet, and then we both sit down.

  “When I was little, my mom used to bring me here all the time. I’d swim and play while she read her book, or she’d come in the water with me. It’s funny, when you’re a kid, you have no worries in life, but the minute you become an adult, everything changes.”

  I wish I could relate. “My life was the opposite. I’ve always had the pressure to succeed in baseball on my shoulders. My dad, he was strict about everything. In fact, if he knew I was out here now and not sleeping, he’d have something to say about that.”

  “That’s sad.”

  Shrugging, I slip off my socks and sneakers, burying my toes into the cold sand. “It is, but I wouldn’t be where I am today without that kind of structure.”

  “Do you like playing baseball?” Ainsley slips off her shoes and pulls her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them tightly.

  “I love it. I love everything about the game.”

  “Do you ever wish you had done something else?”

  I think about her question and wonder what else I could’ve done. If my dad and I hadn’t turned to tossing the ball in the backyard, where would we be? For us, it was therapeutic and a way for me to express how angry and hurt I was that my mom had died. The harder I threw, the better I felt. The more my dad cringed when he caught the ball, the more satisfying it was that he was hurting as much as I was.

  “I don’t know what else I would’ve done, honestly. Baseball is what I know. My dad used it as a tool to help me cope with my mom’s passing, and before I knew it, I was trying out for these elite baseball clubs and making all-star teams. College and major league scouts would come watch my games in high school, and I thought, ‘Wow, this could be a career for me.’ I was drafted out of high school but chose to go to college first. I wanted something to fall back on in case baseball didn’t work out.”

  “What’s your degree in?” She turns and looks at me. The moon is casting enough of a glow that I can make out her facial features. Now would be the perfect time to lean over and kiss her, but I have to keep reminding myself that it’s not what she wants from me.

  “Well, the only thing that made sense.”

  Ainsley holds her hand up. “Don’t tell me, it’s something to do with sports.”

  I nod, holding back laughter. “Yeah, broadcasting. I figure I can become a commentator or something when I retire.”

  “Interesting,” she says, turning back toward the ocean.

  I lean into her, bumping her with my shoulder. “Don’t be like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I took the easy way out with my degree, or my career isn’t the same as a doctor or whatever.”

  “Is it, though?”

  “Baseball is America’s game. It doesn’t know social class, race, or any other classification. It’s a game every one can play and afford to participate in. You don’t have to have straight A’s to go to college to play ball. Hell, most players come to the majors right out of high school. It’s a game for everyone.”

  “A game that you make millions of dollars at.”

  “It’s no different than being an actor. We bring entertainment to people.” I counter her claim.

  She seems to ponder this before nodding. “The ticket prices for your games are outrageous.”

  “That’s on the owners, not me. The players don’t set those prices.”

  Ainsley turns to face me. “But you do. You get paid millions of dollars to play the game you all agree that you love, and people can’t afford to go to your games. If you didn’t make so much, more people would be able to go watch you.”

  “True, but the same could be said about doctors. If they didn’t charge so much, or insurance companies, for that matter, more people would be able to get treatment.”

  She doesn’t know that my mom couldn’t get the treatment needed because we couldn’t afford the more expensive drugs, or the specialists. The insurance my father had simply wouldn’t cover the expenses.

  “I don’t like this argument,” she says.

  “Me neither. I think we should talk about something else.”

  “Like what?” she asks.

  Taking her hand in mind, I kiss the top of it before meeting her gaze. “Like you going out with me.”

  She shakes her head.

  “I know, you don’t date athletes, so think of me as a sports broadcaster.” I waggle my eyebrows at her, and she laughs.

  “You’re hard to resist, Cooper Bailey.”

  With those words, I pull her closer. “Then stop resisting me, Ainsley.” This is my chance, and I take it. My lips brush against hers lightly, testing her resolve. She’s either going to punch me, push me away, or let me continue to kiss her.

  The winter was long, but thankfully we had very little snow, and now the day that we’ve all been waiting for has arrived.

  The smell of hot dogs, freshly popped popcorn, and the sweet sounds of baseball are in the air as the BoRes open their spring training play this afterno
on against Minnesota.

  Skipper Cal Diamond is starting rookie center fielder Cooper Bailey after what he called a strong showing during training. Diamond went on to say that it’s too early to determine who will be starting when the season officially kicks off in April.

  Other reports out of training camp indicate that Branch Singleton will be sitting out as designated hitter today to nurse a sore hamstring, and the recently acquired Michael Cashman will be taking the pitches from Hawk Sinclair to start things off with the BoRes.

  Aside from the above changes, the lineup is expected to be the same as last year’s for today’s game.

  GOSSIP WIRE

  Lisa Bainbridge has filed for divorce from center fielder Steve Bainbridge. This does not come as a shock to the BoRe faithful as she’s made her plight front-page news. The timing, however, could’ve been better, in our opinion. It’ll be interesting to see just how the ironclad prenup comes into play and whether Bainbridge will have to pay her.

  Former catcher Jasper Jacobson, who has been rumored to be a key player in the Bainbridge divorce, was seen in Boston when he should’ve been at spring training! It makes you wonder what exactly is going on.

  Catcher Jose Gonzalez, who is fighting for a starting spot in the lineup, recently announced via social media that he’s looking for a wife. Seems Gonzalez needs to take some much-needed media lessons like Ethan Davenport had to. Anyone remember when Davenport sent out his address?

  The BoRe Blogger

  Chapter 12

  Ainsley

  You remember your first kiss. It doesn’t matter how old or how young you are when it happens, you remember. The same can be said each time you experience a first kiss with someone new.

  The night Cooper kissed me, I felt like it was my very first kiss all over again. I hadn’t expected it, and when it happened, I felt a surge of desire and longing. The butterflies that I’ve ignored fluttered freely, and I wanted to crawl into his arms and have him hold me, but I held back. He’s everything that my mother warned me about.