On the DL

by Laramie Briscoe

  “That was a perfect pitch.” Coach Turner’s voice is loud. “Don’t be scared of it, son. Go for it.”

  I hear what he’s saying, but this is as much mental as it is physical. The next pitch comes across, again perfect, and this time I hear the whole the stadium breathe a sigh. I can hear the doubts playing in everyone’s mind.

  “C’mon babe, you got this!”

  Her voice is the one I hear above everything, and it gives me a shot in the chest I need. Stepping back out of the box, my eyes meet hers; she gives me an amazing smile and a thumbs up. “You can do this!”

  Blowing out a breath, I nod at her as I step back in, performing my rituals. The pitch that comes over home plate this time makes the ball look like it’s as big as a house, and instinct kicks in. Extending my arms, I pivot, pulling my arms back. When I feel the crack of the ball against the barrel of the bat, I follow through, watching as it sails over the right-field wall. The screams in the place are deafening, Malone’s is the loudest.

  Coach Turner claps from behind the cage. “How’d it feel?”

  “Good, no twinges.”

  He grins at me as I grin back at him. “Go ahead and hit us some more, Savage, then we’ll see how you do fielding.”

  “Got it.”

  And as I face the pitcher again, this time taking it straight over the center field wall, I realize just how much I’ve missed this place. When I spy Malone talking to Coach Turner’s wife, I realize just how much I want her to be a part of my life here, and I wonder what it will take to convince her. This time, I won’t take no for an answer, not when I know she cares about me as much as I care about her.

  Malone

  “What do you do?” I ask the woman who introduced herself to me as Coach Turner’s wife. No first name, just his wife.

  “What do you mean, honey?”

  “For work?”

  She gives me a look and then laughs. “Oh, I don’t work. Making sure Coach is prepared for the upcoming week is my job.”

  It weirds me out how she even calls him Coach, not my husband, not his first name, but Coach. “You don’t work outside the home?”

  “No.” She smiles as she waves to some of the paparazzi that have gathered. “Our job here is to support our men. It’s to make sure they know they can come home to a warm meal, an inviting bed, and a firm shoulder when they need it. To do those things, they become your life. They are your sole dedication and sole focus,” she continues. “There are charity functions we as a team work on, and my understanding is that Savage has his own, so I’m sure you would work on that. You’re passable enough to be a trophy wife.”

  Whipping my head around, it’s my turn to give her a look. “Excuse me? I’m sorry? Trophy wife? I have a degree in PR, and the reason his charity is so successful right now is because of me.”

  “Rule Number One.” She holds up one manicured finger. “You absolutely do not take credit for something that’s his.” She gives me a pointed stare.

  His? I’ve increased the contributions to his charity by well over one hundred thousand dollars, and that’s because of the damn programs I’ve put into place. Tag lines and hashtags aren’t easy, but I can tell it’s not going do any good to tell her this shit. She’s brainwashed all on her own. I don’t even know what to say anymore, and thank God I’m saved when Slater comes over with the Coach.

  “You looked good out there.” I reach up on my tiptoes, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  Trophy wife number one gives me a thumbs up and a wink for supporting my man. I turn my face so I can roll my eyes and she won’t see.

  “Thanks, it felt good out there. I’m still a little ways from playing, but I should be ready to go come ]\.” He wraps his arms around me, lifting me up in a twirl.

  I’ve learned not to caution him about his knee, but that doesn’t stop trophy wife from gasping. “You shouldn’t be lifting that much weight right now, Savage, we need you good and prepared for the season.”

  This bitch just called me fat. I open my mouth to say something, but Slater picks that moment to speak as well. “Come with me to get my glove? I’m gonna field a few balls and see how that feels.”

  “I would love to.”

  When we get out of hearing distance, he puts his arm around my neck, pulling me close. “Thank you for dealing with her, all the wives and players absolutely can’t stand her.”

  “So it’s not my job to be your little Stepford Wife?” I question as I look back at her.

  He chuckles as we enter the dugout. “There are certain things I’d like for you to do if you moved here with me, but we can discuss those at another time. No sense in getting into it now.”

  For some reason I feel like we should get into it, I feel like he’s blowing me off and Trophy Wife was being more real with me than I assumed she was. But I don’t have it in me to ruin his day, so I don’t push the issue. The talk though, it’s coming. I can feel it, almost like you can feel a summer storm brewing in the Gulf.

  No matter how much we want to, I’m just not sure we can weather it.

  Twenty-Eight

  Malone

  November

  My phone ringing beside me is annoying as I’m trying to schedule these posts to Slater’s charity’s Instagram account. This is the third time someone from this number has called, and they won’t leave a message. Typically, I don’t answer, but I’m at the end of my rope.

  “Hello?” There’s an edge to my voice, and the caller takes a second to speak.

  “Is this Malone Fulcher?”

  Since the paparazzi incident, I’ve not wanted to give any information out about myself unless I know who I’m speaking with. “May I ask who’s calling.”

  “David Evans, I take it you remember me.”

  The fucker who fired me. Holy shit, why is he calling me now? I’m torn between wanting to yell at him, and wanting to hang up on him.

  “This is Malone, how can I help you?” I do my best to keep my voice even, but I really want to rage at this asshole.

  “I’m calling to see if you’d be interested in taking your old job back. Thanks to the attention you’ve received from your relationship with Slater Harlow, some of your old clients are requesting you back. We’ve never taken your name off the website, and I’ve had numerous sports stars inquire if you’re accepting new clients as well. I think maybe we were a little hasty.”

  This is everything I had wanted when I first came home, every single bit I’d wanted, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to say yes, I’d love to take the job back. Then I start to think, think about how much I love helping Slater, how much I love working at the bakery. Yeah, it might not all last forever, nothing ever does, but in this moment, I’m happy with everything going on. There’s nothing I want to change, and I don’t want to set myself up to lose a job I really love – ever again. When he explains how much money they’re willing to give me, I almost crumble and take the job, but money won’t give me the respect. I’ll also get to make my own schedule, which honestly is more responsibility than I want.

  “Thank you for calling, David, but I’m in a really good position right now. I don’t want to come back, and I especially don’t want to come back based upon who the man in my life is.”

  “I kind of figured you would say that,” he clears his throat. “I’m really sorry about the way your firing went down. You had seniority here and we should have taken that into account. We should have treated your better.

  “I appreciate you calling, and I appreciate the offer.”

  “If you ever, for any reason, are interested please don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

  “Will do, thank you again for giving me a call, it’s an honor to be called back.”

  As we hang up, I realize that it is an honor, but I’m extremely happy where I am right now. More money and a move across the country won’t change that. If I move anywhere, I hope with everything I have, that it’s to Birmingham when Slater goes back. The thought hits me from left
field, but it’s the absolute truth. One I hadn’t realized I’d been hoping for. But at the same time, I don’t think the life I lived in LA is what I want anymore.

  “What’s it like? Being the person that everyone looks up to? Not having to worry about money or anything for that matter?”

  He glances over at me, the water beading in the hair that hangs down in front of his eyes. He runs his hand over his mouth, wiping it, as he pulls the towel around his shoulders. “Where’s this coming from? You’ve never asked me a question like this before.”

  “I’m curious. I’m gonna be honest, I got a job offer the other day, from my old company, and they said a lot of things I wanted to hear, but it came with more money and I believe more responsibility than I’m ready for. They wanted to use my relationship with you, and that wasn’t okay with me,” I shrug, running my finger down his chest. “Selfish me, probably would have taken it back in the day, because I was all about myself. But this time, I choose you, Slade.”

  He kisses me hard. “Those words are the best words I’ve ever heard.”

  I snuggle in deeper to him. “Although, while I was mulling over the monetary offer, it occurred to me, that I’ve never asked you how you handle this.”

  He breathes heavily. “It’s a lot of pressure. Sometimes I feel like I’m going to cripple under the weight of it,” he admits. “There’s so many people who count on me. From my agent to my teammates, to my housekeeper, my cook, my trainer, my family. Everyone counts on me to keep it all together. If I fail, they all fail. They have families they have to feed, and they count on my paycheck to pay theirs. It may look like TMZ parties are all kinds of fun, but in reality it’s scary as fuck.”

  Hearing him speak brings a thought to the forefront of my mind. One I’ve wondered many times since I left him that day. “Would we have made it, Slater?”

  Only he can answer this, only he has the knowledge of what he’s gone through. No matter what’s gone on with us, I trust him with being honest.

  He shakes his head. “It’s hard to say. There were some lean times, when I was in the minor’s. When getting a paycheck meant having a little bit extra left over. I wasn’t good enough to get a signing bonus. It was sponsors and roommates that saved me. Could you have lived with me, and you worked full-time to support me? It would have been easier. It would have taken some of that pressure off of me. But at what cost? You would’ve hated me. I have no doubt about that. You would’ve gotten tired of being second to baseball in my life, and at that time baseball had to be number one.”

  I clasp his hand in mine, bringing it up to my lips. “Sounds like we both had to experience some things and grow up, huh?”

  “As much as it hurt when you told me you couldn’t marry me, and fuck it hurt a lot, Mal, I never thought I was gonna close that door. I never thought I’d go a night without reaching for you, a day without wondering what you were doing. But I’m glad it happened. I don’t think we would have survived otherwise.”

  I lean in, kissing him square on the lips. “While I’d never wish any pain on you, I like to think you were sent here for me. Maybe you tore that ACL for a reason.”

  He brings his arm around my neck, pulling me into him. “Maybe you’re right. I will never regret this summer we’ve had together, to make things right. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I have to go back to Birmingham in January to report to the coaches and assess my clearance. I don’t have the answers, but I’m really fucking glad to have had this time with you.”

  “Who knows, maybe I’ll go with you,” I whisper, not entirely sure myself. But after what happened last time, I have no idea if he’ll welcome the idea. Something tells me that may be asking for too much in the grand scheme of things. I hope he realizes that if I do, we have to be a team. He has to be willing to let me make my own decisions, earn my own money, and ask my opinion.

  “Just maybe you will.”

  And as he lays down with my head on his chest, I realize this has always been my safe place. Even when we weren’t together, I thought about it. When I needed to feel close to him, I’d pull out that shirt of his I still keep around and I’d hug it and remember what it was like to be wrapped in his arms. Is this our forever future? I don’t know, but I do know I’ll cherish this for as long as I have it. However long that is.

  “Are you happy?” He pushes my hair back from my face. “Here in Georgia are you happy?”

  For a long time I think about what he’s asking me. The old me would lie and tell him what I think he wants to hear. The woman I am now has learned that honesty is the key to a relationship.

  “Georgia isn’t really where I want to grow old and raise my family,” I admit. “But that doesn’t mean it won’t be one day.” I prop my chin up on my hand. “What makes me happier than anything else right now, though? Is being with you, and that’s not me sucking up to you, Slater. Coming off the shitty year I’ve had, you’re just what the doctor ordered.”

  His brilliant smile spreads across his face. “Right back atcha, sweetness.”

  Feeling content, I drop my head on his shoulder, situate myself against him, and close my eyes. “I don’t wanna go home tonight.”

  He tightens his arms around me. “Then don’t. Stay here with me.”

  “I have to be up early to open the bakery,” I warn him.

  “I have to be up early to run, so we’re even.”

  As I drift off, I realize with great clarity that all the chasing I’ve done has landed me right back where I started. It’s come fully circle, and as I tighten my grip around his waist, I know this is exactly where I’m meant to be. Am I meant to be here forever? That I don’t know, but right now, this is exactly where I’m happiest.

  Savage

  She’s asleep, holding onto me tightly as I situate myself against her. There have been thoughts off and on in my head lately, about what I want to do when I go back to Birmingham. I know without a doubt I want her to go with me. The question I’ve been going back and forth on is do I want to put myself out there again, asking for a commitment.

  Back in the day, a commitment was a big deal, but now it’s a huge deal. If I bring her into the fold of my life, she has to understand what it’s like for me during the season. She has to be willing to be my support, and I’m not sure if that’s fair.

  “I can hear you thinking.” Her voice is sleepy against my chest.

  “Got a lot on my mind.” I push her hair back from her forehead. “I have to make a decision about what’s going to happen when I go back.”

  “To us?” She burrows in deeper, kissing my chest. “I love you, Slade, and I want us to be together, but I’m nervous.”

  “About what?”

  She’s awake now, snuggling in next to me. “What if I get lost in your shadow? It’s not like I want to be in the public eye. The little bitty taste I had of it? I can do without, but you’ve got to let me be my own person. I want to make my own deals, have an identity that’s not totally yours.”

  I don’t know how to answer what she’s telling me. It’s difficult during the season for so many of the wives and girlfriends. “I ain’t gonna lie. When the season starts, I’m a selfish bastard, but I like to think I could make you happy, sweetness. That we could have a life worth living together.”

  “Any life with you is worth living.”

  “Now take the love-struck feeling we both have out of the equation. If you want me to go with you, I have to be your partner. We need to have a sense of reality, and the lust we share doesn’t exactly lend to it. You have to know that.”

  “I do,” I assure her.

  “Do you really? Because sometimes I feel like I’m just being drug behind you doing my best to keep up. That’s not on you, that’s on me, but I love you, so I’m gonna do my best.”

  There’s a part of me that understands what she’s saying, that she needs to have purpose. There’s another part of me that wants her purpose to be me. “I love you too, and I promise to do my best to make this
work out for the both of us.”

  But as she drifts off again, I wonder if it’s possible. I wonder if two people who are so stubborn and want so much to succeed on their own merits can somehow make a relationship work.

  As I drift off, I still don’t have much of an answer, but I know I’m willing to give it a shot.

  Twenty-Nine

  Malone

  December

  “What are you doing, Slater?” We’re in the field where we first parked back in the summer. He’s got his old truck parked there, along with the cooler I recognize from that first date of ours, a blanket laid out in the back.

  There are candles everywhere on the ground, lights strung up on poles that I didn’t notice before. He’s standing in front of everything, his profile backdropped by the soft glow.

  It’s a cool night, enough so that I had to wear a big jacket and gloves. His breath comes out in puffs of white when he talks

  “I wanted to surprise you.” He gives me the smile. The one that travels all the way from the top of my head, down to the bottom of my toes. The one I never thought I’d be able to call mine again.

  “This is a huge surprise,” I laugh, even though I can already feel a rush of emotion bubbling up in my throat. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

  “So many things.” He grins so hard that the dimple he sometimes has in his right cheek pops deeply.

  “Do tell.” I walk slowly toward him when he holds out his hand.

  “For a long time, I couldn’t understand why you told me yes and then broke it off when I asked you to marry me before. I swore before all that was holy I’d never put myself in that situation again. Promised myself that I’d never stoop so low to ask you a question you could say no to again. I held strong for the last few months.”

  There’s a stinging at my eyes, and I know tears aren’t far behind. “What changed?” I ask him softly.