Moving Forward: A Baseball Romance

by Kim Jones

  Tommy glanced down at his legs before he dragged his gaze back up. “That proves nothing. You just got lucky.”

  Aimee rolled her eyes. “Quit being such a big baby. The doctor said you’re making good progress, better than he expected, and you’ll be out of here in no time. You just need to exert effort.”

  “I am exerting effort,” Tommy hissed as he leaned against the window, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out across his forehead. “If you think it’s so easy, why don’t you try it?”

  “I’m not the one who has to exercise to get better,” Aimee tossed back.

  “You’re damn right you’re not,” Tommy retorted. “Who made you my nurse anyway? Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?”

  “No, I’m right where I want to be,” Aimee argued. “So, stop trying to get rid of me, the sooner you can accept that I’m not going anywhere, the easier it’ll be for you.”

  Tommy glowered. “Ha! Yeah, right.”

  Aimee made a sweeping hand gesture. “I’m here, aren’t I? Now, come on, you’re late for your appointment.”

  Tommy crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not going.”

  “Oh, yes, you are,” Aimee insisted as she crossed over to him in one stride and took his arm, placing it securely around her shoulder. “Now, lean on before I decide to carry your ass to the doctor.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Tommy said, aghast.

  “I would,” Aimee said, smoothly. “And I don’t think you want to test me on this. Imagine how your friends would feel about that. They’d never let you hear the end of it.”

  Tommy narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t tell them.”

  “I think we’ve already established that I’m not above getting down and dirty to make things happen.” Aimee gave him a quick wink, and Tommy blushed in response.

  This was usually how their interactions went. Tommy had been in here for a month, slowly but surely getting better, and Aimee had been by his side every step of the way, especially when it came to physiotherapy.

  He’d lash out, she’d put him in his place, he’d sulk, so she’d coax him, and so on and so forth. It was a cycle that went on and on, but it worked. The nurses had gotten used to her, and the doctors loved her.

  They encouraged her to help him out, and she did the best she could. The nurses even pretended not to notice when she climbed into bed next to him, and he’d hold her. Those moments were her favorite, when the rest of the world just melted away, and they could pretend they weren’t in a hospital bed, trying to get Tommy back in shape.

  In those precious instances, Tommy would wrap his arm around her shoulders and bury his face in her hair. He’d recite everything he liked about her, and he’d pepper her face with kisses, his eyes brimming with gratitude, and a deeper emotion she couldn’t identify.

  Every time, she felt too tired to continue, she’d dredge up that memory, and it would keep her going. She knew that Tommy was hurting, and it can’t be easy for him to come to terms with the fact that he might never play baseball again.

  Aimee couldn’t imagine what that must be like.

  Being forced to give up your dream because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not to mention the emotional toll it must be taking on him. He already had a hard time dealing with his father’s death, now he had another shooting to add to his list of traumas.

  If she were being honest, Aimee knew that it took a lot of courage and resilience to get out of bed every day the way Tommy did. She admired him for it, and she saw the triumphant look on his face each time he was able to take a step further.

  Tommy leaned back against the pillow, his chest heaving with effort. He peeked one eye open and beckoned Aimee forward. When she leaned in, he tilted her head and pressed his lips to hers for a passionate kiss. They hadn’t kissed since before the accident, and it felt bittersweet.

  His lips felt firm and warm against hers, and she sighed as she wrapped her arms around him and tilted her head. Tommy made a low growling noise in the back of his throat, and Aimee moaned in response.

  She pulled back and rested her forehead against his. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  He gave her a soft smile and drifted off.

  Aimee turned her head and was surprised to find her father standing there with a peculiar expression on his face as he watched them.

  “I’ll wait for you in the cafeteria,” he said, suddenly as he straightened. “Whenever you’re ready, just come find me.”

  Chapter 13

  Aimee hadn’t felt this nervous in a long time. She felt sick to her stomach, like she might hurl the contents of that morning’s breakfast, and the dinner from the night before. Not only that, but she was as taut as a string, and might explode with the slightest provocation.

  Not a good combo, but she tried to stay positive as much as possible. Tommy needed her to. He’d been released from the hospital a few days ago, and he was eager to get back to practice.

  He’d practically hounded the coach till he agreed to see if he was fit to play. Aimee had been worried for him the whole time. They hadn’t talked about what would happen if he couldn’t go back to baseball, and she refused to consider that possibility.

  He had to play again.

  Nothing made him light up the way baseball did, and Aimee didn’t want that to be taken away from him. Not at such a young age, and definitely not before he’d even gotten a chance to play his first time. Most players got, at least, that far, so Aimee was determined to make sure Tommy did too.

  She’d spent nights pouring over medical books and figuring out the best way to help, so he could not only get back in shape, but also so he could become better. No easy task by any stretch of the imagination, and Aimee now knew more about physical therapy than she ever wanted to, and more about medicine than she’d dreamed imaginable.

  She expected her father to be pleased, but instead he sulked around the house, an indecipherable expression on his face. It seemed as if he was examining her, watching her every move and assessing, but she just couldn’t figure out what for.

  One of the few good things that came out of Tommy’s accident was that they became closer. Over the span of a few weeks, they were almost inseparable, their feelings growing steadily till she became sure that she didn’t just like him anymore.

  She loved him.

  Grouchy, goofy, or showing off. She didn’t care what mood he was in, she was absolutely crazy about him, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. They hadn’t said it, yet, but she knew he felt the same way. She could see it in the way he looked at her, and the grin on his face when he thought she wasn’t looking.

  Aimee stood off to the side, anxiously peering over Tommy’s shoulder to see what was happening.

  The coach heaved a sigh. “Alright, Adams. I’ll let you play. Let’s see how this goes.”

  Tommy sighed in relief. “Thanks, coach. I won’t let you down.”

  The coach made a noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a snort and a hum. “I know you had a terrible accident, so just take it easy out there.”

  Aimee had no idea who was more surprised by this sudden outburst of emotion, Tommy or the coach. Tommy’s mouth hung slightly open, a stunned expression on his face, and the coach looked uncomfortable.

  “Thanks, coach. I will,” Tommy responded, awkwardly raising his hand before he changed his mind and put it back down. The coach nodded and abruptly left. Aimee placed her hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezed, pressing her head to his back.

  “You’ve got this,” Aimee assured him, placing a quick kiss on his neck. “I believe in you.”

  Tommy turned around, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Thank you for believing in me, and for staying by my side.”

  “You’re not going to go all mushy on me, are you?” Aimee teased, lightly.

  “Never,” Tommy promised as he rubbed her arms before pressing his forehead to hers. He breathed deeply, their breath intermingling together, their lips
mere centimeters apart. Unable to stand the anticipation anymore, Aimee bridged the gap between them and pressed her lips firmly to his.

  Tommy sighed, and his hands traveled up to tangle themselves in his hair. Aimee tilted her head to the side to give him better access, and they both moaned. Somebody wolf whistled, and they both pulled apart guiltily, identical love-struck expressions on their faces.

  “I’d better go get ready,” Tommy said, sheepishly running his hands through his unkempt hair.

  “I’ll be in the bleachers, cheering for you,” Aimee spoke, brightly.

  “In a cheerleading outfit?” Tommy brightened as his gaze raked over her body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

  Aimee slapped his arm. “Behave. We’re in public.”

  Tommy laughed. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll hold you to that later.”

  Before she could respond, Tommy took off, sprinting for the coach who was ready to put him through a couple of test runs to determine how fit he was. Aimee climbed up the bleachers, keeping her eyes fixed on Tommy the whole time, ready to leap forward if he needed her.

  She clasped her hands together and craned her neck, spotting Tommy running a few laps. His body glided forward effortlessly, and looking at him right now, Aimee could hardly tell he’d been struggling a few weeks ago.

  He didn’t look like he had a hard time, at all, and Aimee supposed that was a good thing. The coach made him run a few laps, jotting things down in his notepad, his face expressionless. Aimee wished she could tell what the coach was thinking, but she settled for watching Tommy breeze through training.

  Tommy wiped the sweat off his face as he moved on to the next phase of training. The hurdle jumps, and the coach peered at him closely, circling Tommy to evaluate his performance. He finished that, and he moved onto Dot Drills. Aimee watched all of this critically, letting out a whistle or a clap every now and again to let Tommy know that she was watching.

  A slight twitch of his mouth let Aimee know that Tommy was enjoying the cheers. The coach beckoned Tommy forward and whispered something in his ear. Tommy began to do walking lunges.

  Aimee was so focused on Tommy, she didn’t even notice when someone came and sat down. She only registered it in her peripheral vision because he sat down next to her.

  “What’s happening?”

  Aimee nearly toppled backwards in her seat, surprise registering on her face as she turned to face her father. He was dressed down in a pair of shorts and a polo shirt, looking a little out of place without his usual suit.

  Aimee hadn’t really spoken to him since the night of their confrontation. She didn’t have much to say, and he looked like he wanted to say something every time he saw her before he turned around and walked away.

  It was frustrating, but her mother kept saying that he just needed time, and he was really considering what she said. It was good, at least. That was progress. It was better than nothing.

  Before, he’d just act like he hadn’t done anything wrong, and Aimee was forced to swallow her pride, smile and act like nothing was happening, when all she wanted to do was scream and ask her dad to listen.

  It wasn’t that hard to do.

  “The coach just wants to make sure Tommy can handle it before he puts him back in the game,” Aimee responded, indifferently.

  She refused to look at her father. If she did, she might cave and back down, which she shouldn’t do. He needed to know that Aimee was going to oppose him sometimes, and it wasn’t out of sheer stubbornness. Sometimes, it was because they just weren’t on the same page, and if she didn’t fight for what she wanted now, she never would.

  Aimee knew that as surely as she knew that they were standing here right now, breathing the same air.

  “How’s that going?” her father asked, curiously as he leaned forward, resting his head in his hands.

  “It’s good,” Aimee said, shortly.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Alan offered, giving her a small smile which she spotted out of the corner of her eye. Aimee made a low noise of assent in the back of her throat but said nothing, preferring to focus on Tommy, who made her feel at peace, even in the middle of a storm of emotions.

  The silence stretched between them, and Alan coughed as he scratched the back of his neck, eyeing Aimee carefully She could tell he wanted to say something, but she wasn’t going to be the first one to break the silence.

  Not this time.

  “I thought you hated baseball,” Alan said, confusion leaking into his tone.

  “I did,” Aimee agreed. “Not anymore though.”

  “Tommy changed your mind?” Alan asked, lightly.

  “I guess you could say that,” Aimee admitted. “He made me see something I hadn’t seen before.”

  Alan cleared his throat. “That’s a good thing. It’s important to be with someone who makes you feel like you can go after your dreams, and vice versa.”

  Confused, Aimee took her eyes off of Tommy and stared at her father who let his guard down and smiled. Aimee blinked, not able to recall the last time she’d seen him let his guard down like that. Now that she was looking at him, she could see that he was a lot more relaxed, the square set of his shoulders was gone, and he looked younger; happier somehow.

  “I know your mother told you I come from the South side,” Alan began. “But, I bet she didn’t tell you how we met.”

  Aimee shook her head. “She didn’t, no.”

  She settled back in her seat, keeping an eye on Tommy, but otherwise fully facing her father.

  “I transferred to her school. I was a bright kid, so they offered me the chance to transfer, and I took it, unable to pass up such an opportunity. I knew I wouldn’t fit in because of where I came from, but it was a chance to do better, become better, and I couldn’t leave that behind because I was scared.”

  She’d never heard this story before, and she was surprised to find her curiosity piqued.

  “Unfortunately, I wasn’t as smart as I thought, so I needed tutoring, and your mom was an honor student.”

  Aimee grinned. “Mom was your tutor? You fell in love with your peer tutor?”

  The idea that her dad, at some point, was a shy transfer who needed any kind of help was almost ludicrous, but now that he was telling the story, she could see it on his face. Suddenly, she could envision her father, not as he was, but as he used to be.

  It made her feel closer to him.

  “I was smitten from the moment I laid eyes on her, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and she still is. Your mother was dating someone else at the time, but I didn’t care because I knew that in time, she’d see we were perfect for each other. She made me want to be so much more than just the boy from the South side.”

  “And did she?” Aimee asked, in awe.

  “She did,” Alan confirmed. “It took her a while, and a few wrong turns, but we both ended up where we belonged, and she still inspires me.”

  Aimee gave her dad a soft smile. “That’s beautiful, Dad.”

  Alan looked away, exhaled then looked back at Aimee. “I know I’ve been hard on you, harder than I should’ve been, and I was unfair to Tommy, but I can see now that he’s a lot like me.”

  Aimee bobbed her head up then down. “He really is.”

  “You really love him, don’t you?” Alan studied her expression carefully, an open and earnest expression etched onto his features.

  Aimee swallowed. “Yeah, I do, and I know he loves me too.”

  Alan sighed as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I guess that means there’s only one thing left to do.”

  Aimee tensed. “What’s that?”

  “Let’s see if he can handle my barbeque.”

  Alan bellowed as Aimee threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

  Chapter 14

  Aimee shifted nervously from one foot to the other, unable to stand still as she kept glancing over her shoulder.

  “You’re supposed to be helping me,” Gina reminder her, lightly scol
ding. “Not acting like some energizer bunny.”

  Aimee ducked her head back in and chewed on the inside of her lip. “Sorry, mom. I’m just nervous.”

  Gina waved the spatulate in the air in a circular motion. “Honey, you have nothing to be worried about. It’ll all be fine. Now, are you going to help me with the yams or what?”

  Aimee gave a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Gina handed her the bowl and a wooden spoon to stir with strict instructions about how to make the candied food. Aimee’s stomach growled in response, and her mouth watered as she glanced down at the bowl, wondering if she could get away with sneaking a piece.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Gina warned, her back turned as she crouched in front of the pot and tasted something, smacking her lips together. “I’m your mother. Do you really think I can’t tell when you’re planning on doing something you’re not supposed to do?”

  Aimee’s eyebrow rose skeptically. “How’d you know? Also, if you do, how come you never stopped me from doing things when I was growing up?”

  “I’m not psychic. Sometimes, I’m wrong,” Gina lamented, sighing dramatically. “Still, life goes on.”

  “Did I just hear you admit that sometimes you’re wrong?”

  Alan ambled into the kitchen, dressed in grandma’s traditional thanksgiving wool sweater, his hair brushed neatly to the side. He placed his hands in his pockets and leaned in to smell the food.

  “You heard no such thing,” Gina responded, eyeing him over the end of the spatula.

  “Oh, but I did,” Alan teased as he wrapped his arms around Gina from behind, placing a soft kiss on the back of her neck. “I should’ve recorded that.”

  Gina gave a derisive snort. “Yeah, that isn’t going to happen.”

  “It could,” Alan whispered as he nibbled on Gina’s ear, causing her to giggle in delight as she leaned into his touch.

  Aimee made a face and pretended to gag. “Ew, could you two possibly not do that in the kitchen? We’re making food here.”