I didn't get a chance to talk to him again until after the game that night. We lost by two runs but Cole managed to throw three outs and still keep the ladies swooning despite the loss. Everyone knew there was a scout watching. The rumor was he was there for a player on the other team, but a scout watched everyone. Cole was at his best but the other team won so he figured it was all for nothing. I took him to Baskin Robins and he bought my banana split.
“You can't win them all,” I said wanly.
“Nah, but it would be nice to pull one off when there's someone watching. Our defensive game sucked and it made me look bad.” He looked up at me, the frustration and disappointment thick in his eyes. He needed a break from the team because he, like me, often said too much and something like that after a loss could get him in trouble. “I just want a shot, you know. It's all I want anymore. I don't screw around anymore. You're the first girl, I swear, since I signed and you get what the game demands from me. I don't think you're a distraction at all. I'm good enough to get there. I'll do well. I can play with them. I just want to get there.”
I was flattered and reassured by what he said. He was justifying his time with me and confirming that there hadn't been anyone else.
“And then what?” I asked. “What if you get a contract? What then?”
“I play!” he said, throwing his arms wide to both sides. “I made it, I'm there.”
“So it's about the fame then and not the game?”
“No, it's all about the game. That's the only game there is. This is ... this is ...”
“The middle,” I suggested. “This is the in between. You should enjoy the middle.” It sort of worked on me when Parker said it; maybe it would work on Cole. It did not. He was too much like me.
“You don't get it. I don't have a Plan B. And this is no place to stay. I'm not in college ... I can't support myself on this. You drive me around in your car. The last two years I didn't even have that. You make more than I do and you work at a gym. This isn't a dream, not now, not after three years. I'm kidding myself. And my chances get worse every year.”
“Calm down. You're twenty-three, not thirty-three. You have plenty of years still.”
“OK, and will you stick around with me for the next ten years while I make less than minimum wage chasing a dream that might never happen?”
He was asking about my future with him. I wanted to answer to reassure him but at the same time, if I did, was I conceding? “It's four months of the year. You have the rest to make money,” I said, instead.
“Right. Doing what? What kind of job can I get where they let me take almost half the year off? And school, how am I supposed to pay for that?”
“Why not do a college contract?”
“Because I have no Plan B. Why would I pay money I don't have to go to school for no good reason?”
“There's gotta be something. What else would you want to be?”
“All I've ever wanted to be is a catcher and a hitter and play under the lights. Nothing else matters.”
“You're going to make me go there, aren't you?” I asked him.
He looked up from his fudge brownie sundae, unsure of what I meant.
“What about me?” I asked him. “I'm not for a single second saying I'm thinking about anything long term with you. Don't think this is about you and me getting together.”
He grinned, his eyebrows rising.
“It's not about that,” I said, kicking him lightly under the table. “But ... and this is completely hypothetical: what if we do get together? Would that change you wanting to go to school?”
“Would you not get together with me if I didn't go to school?”
I thought about it. “I don't know. It doesn't really matter right now because you're having fun, but it makes me sad when you talk about your future like that.”
“It's always only been baseball. If you gave me a shot and said I had to come up with another plan I have no idea what I would do. I'm good enough to get there. I'm made for this. If they give me a shot I can do it. I know I can. I guess this is what I'd tell you ...” He looked at me like he meant it more than hypothetically. “This is me, babe, love me or leave me. I want this and I can do it, and if you give me a chance I'll show you what kind of a man I am. I'll do it—I’m doing it. I have the talent, I've got the passion; all I need is a girl at my side that believes in me, and the bigs to call me up.”
It didn't frustrate me. He was a dreamer; it was romantic. He believed in his dream so much he didn't need another. It was scary. It was life on the edge of being insane. It was exhilarating; it was fire. I knew why Parker was attracted to me; the same spark in Cole drew me to him. I wanted to hope with him and watch his dreams come true, but I couldn't admit it seriously. It would mean too much to him.
“You're nuts,” is all I said.
“Yep and just crazy enough to believe it can happen, if we can win a freaking game when a scout's here.”
I dropped him off a little later and we made plans to meet the next day at the gym about the time I got off. He came in, cute as ever, in his Patriots hat and tried to sweet talk me before I even punched out.
“Let me drive,” he said.
“It's my car.”
“I know where we're going.”
“So do I. The Mariners are playing tonight, duh.”
“Not yet. Game's not ‘til seven—what kind of a fan are you?”
“Apparently not an obsessed one. Fine, drive.” I grinned.
He took me first to Pikes Place Market on the water. We walked inside the pier buildings, watched the fish get thrown, posed for pictures, and then passed by this little shop playing our Jack Johnson song. About the time I thought it was a perfect moment to dance, he did just what my dad would have done.
“Tatum, come here,” he said, pulling me into the center of the walkway. “Hey! Hey,” he shouted to the owner inside. “Can you turn that up real quick? I gotta dance with my girl.”
“I'm not your girl.”
“I keep telling you, you will be.” He winked and the music got louder and he danced me around the center of the walkway. I was so happy. I heard one girl walk by with her guy and ask him to dance like that; he said no. I smiled. I had what other girls wished for. I realized up until then that I had been comparing him to who he had been. He promised he was changed but I couldn't believe it. My mind refused to let go of who he was. But I had changed. I spent the night in bed with a man I could have been all over, who pretty much told me he wouldn't stop me if I wanted to go all the way, and I didn't. I was changed. Couldn't Cole really change, too? Couldn't I allow for the possibility? The old Cole would never do what he was doing. I remembered the dance on first base and let go of all the dances he refused me in school. I could be vulnerable. I could admit I was falling in love but not out loud. I was only at first base. It was no place for love.
I was light as a feather in his arms, I forgot the past and let go of what tomorrow would bring and lived in that moment with him. He had rhythm and I told him so. He said he knew that. Of course he would—he was Cole Jackson—everything came easily to him. Everything but me. Past or not, I decided that he still had more work to do to get me. Parker was part of it, but so was the fact that Cole was used to getting everything he wanted. If I was going to be his, he was going to have to work for me, a whole lot more than dancing in a market place.
When the song was done, he wrapped me up under one of his arms and we went into the shop with the music. He shook hands with the owner, an older woman with gray and black dreads that put mine to shame.
“That was about the sweetest thing I've ever seen,” she said. I looked up at Cole and said, “Yeah, he's kinda cool like that.”
The store was full of trinkets no one really needed but wanted when they saw them. I looked at the rings and found a thick-banded beaded one with a giant flower that covered my middle finger from knuckle to knuckle. I bought it on a whim, thinking the ring would help to remember the dance; then w
e continued on, wasting time in and out of shops. He didn't complain like he had when we were kids He went with me and stayed beside me and even looked at the things I looked at and asked why I liked them. He showed me what he liked. The whiskers on his face helped to define his jaw line in a way it never had been when we were kids. Why was he there, in my past, and here, in my present, all at the same time? I wished I never knew him before. It would have been so much easier if he was brand new to me. I leaned over to kiss him on his cheek and he looked over at me.
“What was that for?”
There were no words. I couldn't tell him what I was feeling because I didn't know. I shrugged and walked on. Eventually we made it to the game. It was like every other baseball game I'd ever watched. The rules were fair and safe, they all knew them, played by them, and because of it we had a good game. As with Parker and Cole, I didn't know who to cheer for. The teams were well-matched. Both meant something to me: one was my current home team, but the other had been my home team for years. I liked them both. I couldn't choose a favorite, so I watched the game play out. Maybe the winner of the game would lead me to a sign on who the winner of my game would be.
It didn't. It was just a game. The away team won. No signs, no magical insights; just a game.
We didn't head out with the crowd. Cole said he had a surprise and I felt a little guilty.
“You know, you don't have to make every date a big deal.”
“I thought that's what you wanted.”
“I want to know I matter to you, that you put thought into me and don't take me for granted. It doesn't mean every date has to be a big production.”
“Well, shoot, I'll keep that in mind ... after tonight.”
We walked the stadium every time we came to a game. Mostly he would imagine out loud what it would be like to play in front of thousands of fans someday. I loved the fire in his eyes. I believed him. He was a great player, made for greatness. Everyone knew it. It was only a matter of time. I didn't think it simply because I was sweet on him. I knew the game, and his talent and dedication would take him to the majors. We walked a different route that night and turned into a corridor I'd never been in, down some stairs, and to a gated barricade that separated us from the field. There was an old man there with a key and a big old yellow smile. He tipped his hat at us and stood to the side after he unlocked the gate.
“Thanks,” Cole said, shaking the man's hand, then pulled me onto the field.
It was a rush like none other. We were nowhere near alone. Fans were still clearing out, staff was cleaning up, but we were the only two on the field. It was exhilarating! I'd never been so close to the big guys. I wondered if I was going to meet someone, maybe Kenji, the Mariners’ catcher. I wasn't so lucky. Cole had some privilege because he played for the Patriots but it only went so far. We walked to the team dugouts and looked in.
“This is it. I'll be here. Doing this! And we'll be able to remember when we were here just thinking about it.”
He said “we” again. Always, lately, when he talked about the future he put me in it. Parker never did. “You gotta stop talking like that,” I said and hopped up onto the bench.
He looked at me quizzically, walked over to me, reached up, and grabbed me at the waist. “Like what?”
“Like I'm in this dream with you. You assume too much.”
“It's my dream. I can have it however I want it, and ever since I saw you again, I want you in it.”
“I have a choice, too.”
“I know. And you're taking a long time making it. And ...” He pulled me down off the bench. I jumped onto him and wrapped my arms and legs around him.
“And?” I asked.
He kissed me and wrapped his arms around my back, pulling me into him ever so much more.
“And ... you'll come around. You'll see.”
“How do you know?”
“No Plan B, remember? You're it, beautiful.”
“You're sure about that?”
“Yep.”
“We shall see,” I said, kissing him back.
I hopped down and let go of him to walk the field. There was a guy out there smoothing the dirt but I didn't care. I stood behind home plate and contemplated the magnitude of playing in a stadium. It made sense why Cole would want this. He was made to be watched. And I watched him. His back was to me. He was running away from me in a straight line. He looked as good in jeans and a tee, with his mitt tucked into the waistband, as he did in his uniform on our little field, or shirtless in the gym. He was a sight to behold.
I wondered, not for the first time, where we would be if Parker wasn't in the picture. But it didn't matter; he was. Things were exactly as they were supposed to be. For me, but not for Parker, who had lost his dream, and not for Cole, who already was so sure that I was a part of his. It didn't matter how much I was falling for Cole, or how sure he was that I would be his. I couldn't see myself in his dreams, at least not clearly. I had Parker to think about. He was heartbroken beyond belief. I had to be there for him. I couldn't leave him; it would be wrong.
“Hey, you!” Cole shouted from across the field.
“Hey, yourself!” I yelled.
“Get a ball!” he said while he pulled his mitt out from its resting place.
I ran back to the team dugout and found a ball. There was no way I could throw to where he was on second, so I ran to the pitcher's mound. Cole shouted an imaginary play-by-play. The man on first, whom he named Becker, was inching out, hoping the famed, shutout pitcher—me—wouldn’t notice. But I did and threw with fury to second. It bounced just shy of Cole's reach and he caught it up off the ground and beckoned for me to go to him.
“Lousy throw,” he said as I made my way. “Brett lets you leave the house with an arm like that?”
“I'm warming up. We need another mitt.”
“You come catch one,” he said, extending his mitt to me. I was running to second, absently; lost in the thrill of throwing a ball on the infield of the Mariners stadium. I had no idea how everything would change all over again in a matter of minutes.
CHAPTER 21
AS SOON AS I got to him, Cole dropped the mitt and ball and pulled me into his arms. “Well, well, well, look what I caught,” he said and kissed me fiercely. “Tatum, I want you. All to myself. I want you to be mine and I'll play your game, and I'll dance with you and do whatever else you want me to do, but I want you all to myself. I'm tired of competing. When you were gone it drove me crazy.”
“We didn't do anything.” I said, probably a little too defensively, remembering how close to everything we got.
He stopped me. “It's not that. I mean it is, but it isn't. I don't think you'd break your rules.” He looked down. “But if you did, I guess I deserve it.”
I wanted to tell him that no one deserved to be deceived or cheated on but it was too close to the guilt he carried. He expected punishment and had been paying for it for years. He expected me to hurt him.
“You think I did something ... to get back at you?”
“I don't think you'd break your rules,” he said again, knowing it's what I wanted to hear.
“But you think I did. You think I did something with Parker behind your back.”
He looked down. “Look,” he said, “I get that you want me to prove myself to you. And I will, but you gotta give me the chance to. I'm asking for a chance. Please.”
“Answer me first. Do you think I did something with him?”
“I don't want to, but it doesn't matter if you did.”
“That's a crappy answer, Cole.” I wanted him to know I was changed as much as he wanted me to believe he was.
“No, I don't. I don't.” He looked me in the eyes when he answered and I believed him. “But still,” he said, “it doesn't feel fair. I want a chance with you. Everything about our relationship ...”
“We don't have a relationship,” I corrected.
“Fine,” he conceded, still holding my hands. “This thing, whatever it
is, that we have, I can't prove anything to you here. I want a relationship with you. I need you to trust me. Give me a chance. I won't hurt you again, I promise, but you have to let me prove it to you. Please.”
The pressure to say yes to him, there in the center of Mariner Field on second base, was as intense as the pressure to give myself to him all those years ago. But I was strong enough to resist Parker in the heat of the moment, and I was strong enough to resist Cole when he overwhelmed me with words and promises and perfect places.
“I can't right now,” I said and with my hands clenched in his. I told Cole about seeing Haylee with the other guy and how it crushed Parker and how I couldn't leave him. Worry swept over Cole's face.
“Have you talked to him since you got back?”
“No, not really. We don't talk much; he's not like you like that. He's quiet. When he has time and I have time we hang out. We usually drive up this place.” I didn't want to tell Cole too much about the lake because it felt like sharing secrets that were supposed to be for Parker and me alone.
“Can you get ahold of him now?”
“I don't know; if he's not on duty, probably. Why?” I was confused at Cole's sudden interest in his competition.
“He shouldn't be left alone.”
“Oh,” I said realizing what his worry was about. “He's not like that. He'll be fine. Besides he's on base and there are tons of people around all the time. They watch for that now with all the PTSD stuff.”
“No, it doesn't matter. He just lost everything that mattered to him. You can't leave him alone.”
With that we walked away from second base. Cole never pressured me after that. We weren't even official and it felt like he broke up with me.
He told me we needed to make sure Parker was OK. He was petrified Parker would hurt himself. He couldn't have that guilt on him again and so he let me go to help Parker through it. I was pretty sure Parker would be fine but there was enough doubt to make me worry, too. I remembered his face when he saw them together. I remembered how he took my hand and gave up on it all and how he told me he wouldn't stop me in bed. None of it was like the Parker I'd come to know.
Catching Tatum Page 21
