Home Run

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “Dad, you remember Ethan and Daisy Davenport?” They shake hands, and he seems pleased to see them. “And this is Ainsley, my fiancée.”

  His face turns red as he glares at me. “We need to talk,” he says, reaching for my arm, but I reel back and step in front of Ainsley.

  “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Ainsley.”

  “This is a private family matter,” he seethes. He looks at Ainsley, Daisy, and Ethan, and none of them flinch or move a muscle to leave.

  “Ainsley’s my family. So are Ethan and Daisy. Whatever you have to say, it can be said in front of them.”

  “She’s not my family. She’s a two-bit whore that trapped you into this relationship. She only wants your money. She doesn’t give a shit about you. I’m not going to stand by and let you throw away everything you worked for because you were dumb enough to fuck this woman without a condom.”

  I feel Ainsley tense next to me, and I don’t like it one bit. I hate that my father is like this. I take a look at her and see fear and sorrow in her eyes. She should never feel like that when she’s with me.

  “I’m only going to say this once, so you need to listen closely. Ainsley and I are getting married and we’re starting family. I trust her, Dad, and wish you didn’t have to be so pigheaded. But you are, and that leaves me no choice but to say this: If you can’t accept my family, we can’t accept you. The only time you will see me is on television or when you buy a ticket to a game. I will no longer support you. I will no longer be a part of your life. This is your call.”

  “You can’t do that. You won’t do that,” he says, challenging me.

  “I will. Oh, and if you ever call my Ainsley a whore again, I’ll slap you with whatever lawsuit I can pin on your sorry ass. If you want a relationship with me, you will apologize to her. Until then, you are nothing to me.”

  I don’t give him an opportunity to respond as I brush past him with Ainsley by my side. She’s murmuring into my shoulder that she loves me, and all I want to do is pull her into my room and show her how much I love her.

  When we get to the girls’ room, I’m hesitant to let them go inside because my dad is still standing in the hallway, probably trying to figure out how he’s going to live now. He’s stubborn enough that I know he won’t come around and see things from my side. I get that he wants what’s best for me, but that’s my choice, and I choose Ainsley.

  Daisy assures us that they’ll be fine, and promises they won’t open the door for anyone, especially my father. Ethan and I both stand at the door until we hear the deadbolt slide before heading to our room.

  “That was fucked up,” Ethan says as we enter.

  “That’s my life. No one has ever been good enough for me in my father’s eyes. When he found out Ainsley was pregnant and in Boston, he flipped and demanded I get a paternity test.” I sit down, shaking my head. He put doubt in my mind about Ainsley and the babies, and I hated that. She never gave me a reason not to trust her. She was scared and alone when she came here, and I did nothing but question her.

  “When my mom died, he changed and changed me right along with him. I was all he had. At first, I thought it was because he missed her, but I have come to realize it was because he wanted me to be something he never was.”

  My cell phone beeps with a text from Ainsley. For a moment I fear reading it, wondering if she’s second-guessing our upcoming nuptials because of what just transpired with my father. We’re supposed to get married while we are here in California, at Disney two days after the All-Star Game. If she backs out now, I don’t know what I’ll do.

  Pulling up her message, I’m hit with the sudden urge to run down her to room and say fuck the rules, but I know I can’t.

  I love & miss you terribly. Thank you for sticking up for me.

  She’s thanking me for sticking up for her?

  Why wouldn’t I stick up for you? You’re about to be my wife in a few days and you’re the mother of my children. As far as I’m concerned you’re the most important person in my life.

  I send that back to her, hoping that she understands that it’s not going to matter what my father says: She’s my life.

  I quickly type out another message. I don’t want her to think that I didn’t notice that part of her message and only focused on the negative.

  By the way, I love you too.

  Ethan tells me that he’s going to go take a shower, leaving me alone to figure out what to do about my dad. There’s a knock on the door that sends me flying over there hoping it’s Ainsley. Only when I open it, it’s my dad.

  “What are you doing here?” Anger boils through my veins.

  “I came to give you these.” He hands me a stack of papers. I look down quickly, and my stomach rolls. Prenuptial is the only word that I need to read to know these aren’t for me. I hand them back to him.

  “Don’t be stupid, Cooper,” he says, pushing them back toward me.

  “I love her. What part of that can’t you comprehend? She’s having my children.”

  “It’s just one child. You can be active in his life and not have to marry her.”

  I groan loudly, growing irritated with him. “You know what? I shouldn’t even tell you this, but maybe it will knock some sense into you. We’re having twins, so it’s not one child you’re asking me to abandon, but two. And you know what? I’m not going to do it. I love her, she loves me, and we’re going to get married. I’m sorry that doesn’t work out in your life plan, but this is my life and it’s what I want.”

  I start to shut the door, but he stops it and slams the papers down against my chest. “Read them. They make sense and will protect you.”

  Before I can crumple them up and send them soaring toward his head, he’s down the hall. I let the door slam and look down at the papers. Instead of reading them, I rip them in half and throw them in the garbage. If Ainsley wants my money, she can have it.

  Chapter 36

  Ainsley

  I never thought my pregnancy would be public news or that anyone would care. Honestly, it never dawned on me that it would make a difference to anyone other than the few close friends we have. So when I arrived at Petco Park with Daisy and Ethan’s family and we were ushered to our seats, I never thought in a million years that I’d find myself on the Jumbotron with the title of soon-to-be Mrs. Bailey flashing around my picture.

  To say I was mortified would be an understatement, but I played it cool, pretending that it wasn’t bothering me until they panned to Cooper, who was warming up. They put us side-by-side on the screen and change the caption to read “parents to be” before panning out enough to get my bulging belly. Half the crowd cheered, while a few booed. I get it; he was an eligible bachelor and women had hopes of landing him. But what stuck with me the most was Cooper’s face and the sheer joy when he looked at the screen—essentially looking directly at me. It was enough for me to know that I don’t need to be threatened by anyone else.

  After last night, the encounter with his father left me questioning everything. Daisy and I spoke at length about her marriage and how she too comes from a broken family, about how Ethan was there when her grandfather passed away, even though she had pushed him out of her life. She said that some guys just get it, and we’re the lucky ones.

  I do feel lucky. Not because Cooper is a professional baseball player but because of the situation we’re in. He could have easily told me to go back to Florida and to call him when the babies were born, but he didn’t. I think the road trip he went on was good for him and exactly what he needed. I tried not to add any pressure and would have accepted whatever he decided. I was in no position to demand anything from him, though it would have torn me up inside had he not chosen us.

  A few wives of the other players have come up to congratulate me on the pregnancy. For the most part, they’re nice, but you get a few who toss a snide comment in every now and again. Daisy is quick on the rebuttal while I search for words that won’t seem rude. She tells me that
thick skin is important, and I shouldn’t be afraid of hurting their feelings, because they’re certainly not afraid to hurt mine.

  The pomp and circumstance that goes into the All-Star Game is amazing. The vibe is infectious, and I find myself really getting into it. Since I’ve been in Boston, I haven’t done much, except sightsee with Daisy and drag Cooper to my doctor’s appointments, but I feel like I need to start going to more baseball games to support my man. Daisy says she loves it and has offered to sit with me on the visitor’s side if I’m not ready to face all the wives. She says she gets a better angle of Ethan that way but also likes to see him when he comes in and out of the dugout. It’s an offer that I’ll likely take her up on until I’m comfortable enough to be there on my own.

  Quitting my job and telling Stella that I won’t be back to Florida was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, aside from losing my mom. Stella has been my best friend for most of my life and has been my rock for the past year, helping with my mother. I suggested she also move to Boston, but she quickly brushed that off, saying something about how unnatural copious amounts of snowfall is. I haven’t told her that Cooper and I plan to live in Florida during the off-season. I want to surprise her when I show up at the zoo or knock on her door.

  I have spoken to a few of the zoos in the area about a possible job, but Cooper said he would like me to stay home with the babies, or he’s at least suggested that I don’t need to work if I don’t want to. But ultimately the decision is up to me. I don’t know how I’ll feel about not working in the long run, but I have to say it’s nice to have the break right now. Daisy works, but she says it’s to occupy her time, and her hours are flexible. She doesn’t work if Ethan is home because their time together is too precious to her.

  We stand when the teams are announced. Each player comes out of their respective dugout and stands along the baseline. Daisy explains that the American League is the home team this year, even though we’re in a National League park, due to the fact that the National League hosted last year and will host next year. She goes on to say that it’s supposed to alternate, but it hasn’t been that way lately. I nod along, pretending to understand everything she is saying, although if I’m going to be a baseball wife, I better start brushing up on the history of the sport.

  After watching a few of the players performing cartwheels in the outfield, I ask, “The guys don’t take this game seriously?”

  “No, they do. They’re just having fun right now. The winner of this game determines which league will have home field advantage in the World Series. Naturally we want the American League to win because we’d have more home games and the chances of winning are better if the guys were to make it to the World Series.”

  “I see.”

  “No, you don’t,” she says, laughing. “It’s okay. Cooper doesn’t care if you know the game or not. He only cares that you’re in the stands supporting him.”

  That thought makes me smile, and as I look over at the dugout, his head pops up. He waves at me, causing butterflies to take flight in my stomach. Either that or his kids are about to start kicking the crap out of me.

  After what Daisy refers to as a one-two-three inning, our guys are up to bat. Cooper didn’t start the game, but Daisy assures me he’ll be playing in a couple of innings. Ethan is up to bat first for the American League, getting a standing ovation that is started by his father. I look at him and see nothing but pride for his son and everything he’s accomplished, while Cooper’s dad is trying to control his life. It’s crazy how night and day some parents can be.

  “Let’s go, Unc,” Shea yells as loudly as she can. If Ethan hears her, he doesn’t acknowledge her.

  When Ethan is called for a strike, her hands go up in the air, and she sighs. Daisy tells me that Shea is Ethan’s biggest fan and will video-chat with him before each game to tell him what he needs to do.

  “And he listens?”

  “Of course. Shea is the apple of his eye. If she says jump, he will until she tells him to stop.”

  I look down the bleachers and see someone I don’t recognize from yesterday. “Who’s that next to Shana?” I met Ethan’s sister yesterday when we arrived at the hotel.

  “Oh, that’s Mike, Shana’s husband. He’s not around much because of his job.”

  “What does he do?”

  Daisy shrugs. “He’s in the Army, but Ethan thinks he’s Special Forces or something like that and just can’t tell us. I honestly thought he really didn’t exist, but he was at our wedding and stayed the entire month we were in the Keys.”

  I’ve always pictured Special Forces men to be huge, with bulged-out muscles, but Mike doesn’t look anything like I’ve pictured. I suppose looks can be deceiving.

  Daisy tells me that Ethan has a full count, and that has her with her hands clasped in front of her and rocking back and forth. Shea is egging her uncle on, telling him that he needs to figure it out. I can’t help but laugh and wonder if the daughter Cooper and I are having will be anything like Shea. Yesterday when I met her, she was prim and proper, and today she’s full-on tomboy. For her, it’s probably the best of both worlds.

  Ethan tosses his bat down and jogs down to first base. This makes the Davenports happy, and Shea is now sitting comfortably on her dad’s lap. Ethan never makes it past first, though, as the other batters either strike out or the hits are caught.

  “This is turning into a pitching duel,” Mr. Davenport says. Daisy agrees with him while Mike offers his own comments. I haven’t a clue what any of this means so I sit back and watch as Cooper runs out to center field in the top of the third inning. When his face is on the Jumbotron, I get giddy and clap for him.

  When he told me that he had been chosen to play in the All-Star Game, I was happy. I didn’t know what it meant until he explained the importance of it, especially since he hadn’t been playing well for most of the season. And now he’s out in center field, among his peers waiting for some action.

  The first batter to step into the box is a big dude.

  “He looks like he can crush it,” I say to Daisy, who nods.

  “He can, and center field is his favorite spot.”

  “Shit,” I mutter. Even though I have faith in Cooper, I’d rather things be easy for him so he’s not stressing out.

  The batter swings and connects with the ball. It flies straight toward Cooper, but he’s running toward it. I grip Daisy’s arm thinking the ball is going to go over his head, but it’s dropping fast. Cooper lies out, snagging the ball in mid-flight before landing and sliding on his stomach.

  I stand, waiting to see if he has the ball. When he raises his hand, the stadium erupts in cheers and his heroic efforts are replayed on the big screen, causing everyone around us to shout even louder.

  “Wow,” I say as I sit back down.

  “Is this really the first time you’ve watched him play?” Mrs. Davenport asks.

  Embarrassment washes over me as I nod. “I saw him in Fort Myers once, but the rest of the games have been on television.”

  “Oh, sweetie, you really need to go to the games with Daisy. Cooper is a very good player, one of the best,” she says, beaming with pride as if Cooper were her son.

  “I’ll make sure she’s there,” Daisy tells her mother-in-law, who smiles back in kind.

  “I guess I’ve been missing a lot, huh?”

  “It’s okay. We still have a long season left.”

  In between innings, I volunteer to take Shea to the restroom. I have to go too but have been trying to hold out as long as possible. Walking hand in hand with her, I figure this could be a good test of my parenting skills. If I can keep track of a toddler, then I should be golden with newborns. It’s a lie that I keep telling myself because there’s no way I’m prepared for a baby, let alone two.

  Once we’ve gone and washed up, Shea convinces me that she needs some cotton candy. I know I should probably ask her parents, but the thought of walking all the way back down and up the stairs a
gain doesn’t sit well with me, so we wait in line and she fills me in on her uncle’s baseball stats. I’m amazed at how much she has memorized and find myself asking her if she’s making them up.

  “Nope. Mommy reads them to me at night before bed.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather hear a bedtime story?”

  She shakes her head. “I love my unc and want to know everything.”

  “I see.”

  We step up to the counter, ordering a pink cotton candy and seven waters. When everything is on the counter, I realize that I can’t hold the waters and her hand at the same time.

  “Shea, what does your mommy do when she can’t hold your hand?”

  “I have to hold her shirt.”

  Yes! “Okay, can you hold my shirt while we walk?”

  She nods and grabs hold with her free hand, swinging her bag of pink sugar in the other.

  “What are your babies’ names?” she asks as we weave in and out of people.

  “Yes, what are they?”

  I stop in my tracks when Cooper’s dad steps in front of me. I look around for security or anyone who can help, but they’re all focused on their own tasks.

  “Excuse me, please,” I say, trying to step around him, but he just moves to block my path.

  “Answer me.”

  “If you have something you need, you need to talk to Cooper.”

  “I would, but my son seems to be blinded by you and won’t listen to reason.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that, Mr. Bailey, but I can’t help you.”

  I attempt to move, but he blocks me again. I’m starting to feel scared. My heart is racing, and Shea is tightening her hold on my shirt, which is starting to pull on my neck.

  “What’s going on here?” Mike asks as he comes into view.

  “It’s none of your business,” Mr. Bailey says.