“I don't think she meant to drown your sorrows in a bottle of wine.”
“Oh, I think she did,” I slurred over my play list of sad, sad songs. “I'm good; give me tonight, OK?”
“Fine, whatever,” he said. “At least turn your stupid music down. I don't need to be depressed.”
I took the night and I made a memory. I sulked, I bawled, I mourned for a relationship I had embraced as lightly as I could have. I YouTubed every song he had ever played for me and listened to them over and over again. Since I was on such a depressed kick, I threw Cole's songs into the mix, dancing around to “Better Together,” kicking myself for not taking him up on his offer to be my boy when I had the chance. I wanted him. I wanted him since that first time we bumped into each other in the hall and he smiled at me. I always wanted him, and then I remembered the dance, that glorious dance on first base and the goober one before it. He had tried so hard to get me to see he was different. And I ignored it—for what? For someone whose heart belonged to another.
I was left with neither and it wasn't fair. I captured it all—the whole sad, sorry story and collected it to remember forever. The room was spinning and closing my eyes made it ten times worse, so I lay on my bed staring at my light fixture, remembering what I wanted to remember. Every inning was played and I was, once again, lonely, embarrassed, and heartbroken. I decided to swear off love all together. It wasn't for me. It wasn't meant to be. I was destined to be single.
It was harder than I expected to get up and make my way to my dresser where my rules were stashed. The stupid paper was ripped on the edges and wrinkled from moves and folds over the years, but it was still there. I was done with it. I closed my eyes and tore the sheet over and over and over again until it was nothing but confetti on my comforter. That was the memory. I stared down at the pieces. Even the best-laid plans, even the most thought-out rules didn't matter to love. Love hurt, love was mean, and I had no use for it. I started to collect the pieces and was going to put them in the empty wine bottle, but thought better of it. There was still a little moisture in the bottom of the bottle and I wanted to keep it forever. The one true, tangible, bottled-up memory.
I passed out with the light on and every time I woke up I hit replay on “Better Together” and fell back to sleep. The next morning was horrible. I had to be at the gym early and was pretty sure I was still intoxicated when I woke up, so I ran to the gym instead of risking a drive. My time was pathetic; I was nearly five minutes late and Luke was ready to give me a hard time.
“Bad, bad night. Don't even start,” I said with my hand in his face.
“Calm down. I come in peace,” he said. I felt bad taking it out on him but I wasn't in the mood for his witty banter. I ran the classes hard that day and when I got off, I put myself through a ten round WOD that lasted over an hour.
“What's with you?” my boss asked when I finally returned to the counter, sweaty and spent. “Sucky night, sucky life,” I moaned.
“Tomorrow's gonna suck worse after all that. Need to talk?”
“No!” I snapped. “I need people to leave me alone about it.” And he did. I was lucky he was as understanding as he was. The run home was better. By better I mean my time was more respectable; it didn't quench the hurt. That night called for Ben and Jerry's and, because I was a special kind of stupid, the sappiest bunch of romantic movies I could find on rent at Safeway. I forced Brett to endure that torture with me, which he did, like a champ.
I pulled up my big girl pants, sealed the bottle, literally and figuratively, and moved on. I plugged the real dried-out wine bottle, complete with the pieces of torn paper in it, with a tapered candle and let it burn and drip its wax down the sides. In my mind, I placed it up on the bad memory shelf of my cave, far, far back where I hoped I could never reach it.
Parker came back with Haylee days later. We didn't talk. My parents told me that she was there and that she seemed like a very nice young lady. No matter what I told myself about the strange kind of relationship Parker and I had, it always had been more than “just friends.” I couldn't pretend to be just friends with him if I saw him again, so I avoided him and he did the same. There was no animosity but neither was there a place for me anymore. I was his middle and he was past that part. We stayed friends on Facebook and I watched his albums expand to pictures with her in them, just as Cole's did with his girl. They both smiled. They both were happy; they were in love, so much in love it made me want to poke my eyes out.
But ... but they gave me hope, too.
Maybe love could find a way. Not for me, but for others.
The winter was long and dark and wet. Slowly it morphed into a long and wet and dark spring that dragged on and on until I doubted the light and warmth of summer would ever come. I had gone back to school, and between work, college, and studying, I kept busy enough to avoid love at all costs. When Cole and I talked he asked less and less about Parker now that he knew he was living happily ever after. He talked less about Tina, too. I figured it was because he didn't want to hurt my feelings. All he said was that they were doing what we had done and were taking it slow. We talked regularly but he kept it platonic. He never gave me the impression that we could get back together or that he wanted to see me on the side when he was up for the season. It made me happy for her. She wouldn't have to worry about things the way I had. Of course she wouldn't because he wasn't the same guy.
Then he told me that he wouldn't be coming out for the season. He said he had been drafted to a Triple-A team. He was moving up, one league at a time, and he was excited about it. I was proud of his success and, as his friend, I was happy for him, but I was sad for me.
A couple weeks before the season opener, all of the Patriots’ staff started work. It was the usual stuff, and I looked forward to another summer on the field even if Cole wouldn't be there. I couldn't believe how much had changed for me in the past year. I was back in school, and I had a plan for my life, a plan that included baseball and travel. I had my heart broken twice and had sworn off love forever and I was OK. I looked out over the field. Baseball was my love; it always had been.
They gave me the roster and the job of designing the line-up fliers for the season. I had 5,000 made up for opening night and was only mildly nervous we would run out. Our stadium held 7,000, but we never had that many, except for maybe Independence Day games.
Bill, the emcee, did opening night like he had every night for as long as our family had been coming to games. My parents were there with Travis and Brett; even Theo and Kennedy had come down for the opener. I noticed that my mom was holding two seats beside her but didn't think anything of it. I assumed they were for friends.
I was shocked to see Parker and Haylee come in through the gates, and even more surprised when he said my parents had invited them and they would be sitting in those seats. He introduced me to Haylee and she greeted me in the softest voice I had ever heard. Everything about her was little. She was thin-boned with stick-straight hair and was dwarfed by Parker's size. She called him Justin and her eyes darted here and there, as did mine, while we talked and I escorted them to their seats. We couldn't quite seem to meet each other's gaze. I didn't know what he had told her and I wasn't about to volunteer anything. I knew they had gotten married soon after he went to get her, but other than that I didn't know what kind of relationship they had, so I tried as best I could to put on my most congenial face and keep it all about the game. After I showed them to their seats I gave my mom the eye and she sprang up to hug me. “Sweetie, if you knew you would have thrown a fit about it. They needed to get off the base. Be nice.”
“I'm always nice, Mom. Thanks, though.”
I hugged Kennedy and Theo, too, then went back up to the gate to do my job, and to distract myself from the fact that my ex-boyfriend and his new wife were sitting in the stands by my family. Then it was time for the game to start and Bill to call out the starting line-up for each team. I already knew the players so I ignored his booming voice unt
il I heard him saying my name over the speakers.
“I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen; it appears as if Tatum made a mistake on the roster. Tatum, where are you?” he asked over the mic.
I responded with one of my long and loud cat whistles and then threw both my hands up, full of fliers, to help him find me.
“There she is. Ladies and gentleman, we would like to apologize—Please note there is a correction to the lineup you have in your hands. The catcher for the night is not number twenty-five, Peter Keller, but is in fact our star from last year, number eleven, COOOLLLLLEEE JAAACCCKKSSSSSSSSOOONNNN!”
The crowd went wild. I was stunned. Cole? My Cole? I knew for a fact I had been given Peter Keller's name. I looked at the field and there was no number 25 to be seen. Then I saw him, my sweet number 11, run out onto the field from the dugout and point up to me. The crowd, many of whom had been there for the dance and our antics last season, cheered and clapped. He smiled up at me and tipped his hat, his curls catching slightly as he did.
He set the whole thing up, planned it for weeks and got the team and my family, and even Parker and his girl in on it, too. When we won at the top of the ninth, he quickly ran up to find me by the gate. He took me all the way out to second base. I knew what he was doing.
“Look,” he said, short of breath from our run. “I know you kind of gave up on love and your game and all of that, but … maybe you wanna give it a second chance? Love, I mean ... and me.”
Cole pointed to the announcer's box and Bill, right on cue, started up our song.
“Please?” he begged, looking into my eyes with all the passion I had ever seen in them.
“What about Tina?”
“We called it off. We weren't that serious and she never really liked that I had to be gone so much. And ... she knew about you and got way too jealous when I told her you and Parker broke up. It was mostly mutual. She's already dating some other guy. She's OK.”
“And you didn't tell me?” I smiled back.
“I'm good, huh? So what do you think? Willing to give me one more try?” he asked.
I shrugged. “It's worth a shot.” That was all he needed. He picked me up and spun me around and kissed me, right there in front of God and everybody.
CHAPTER 23
THAT WAS the sweetest summer I ever remember. Our love was fresh and new; we refused to let it be tainted by the past summer or what had come before that. Together we made it this beautiful thing full of some of the happiest memories of my life. The park near the cemetery had turned into our usual go-to and for all my complaining about wanting things to be fun and exciting, there was something special that I loved about being able to meet him at our special spot. He walked the tombstones with me, noticing, remembering the lives they represented. It didn't surprise me when he found my “Gone too soon” girl and started to bring flowers to her grave regularly.
I wish I could say the summer was long and languid, but it flew by. Between work, games, and my summer classes, we didn't have much time together at all. When I could make it work with my schedule, I followed the bus to the close away games. My favorite was a two-day stretch they did in Wenatchee, a city several hours into Central Washington. Cole heard, from Parker actually, about a little town called Leavenworth that was nearby. Cole told me it was where Parker and Haylee had been married. I understood why when I saw it—it was a magical Bavarian-themed town. I wondered how Parker learned about it and why he had never taken me there. And then I was glad he never did because that memory was all for Cole and me.
As we rode the streets in a horse-drawn carriage, the driver, Mitch, drew our attention to local points of interest and made small talk about why we were there. We ate brats in a hot open air restaurant, and walked off our drinks on the old-world sidewalks, hand-in-hand, afterward. We strolled down to a riverfront park and sat together in the fading light. I laid my head on his shoulder and he leaned into me.
“I missed you so much,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. I kept thinking about you. I wanted to call you every day but I was too worried about Parker.”
“Well, it all worked out good.”
“Yeah, I didn't see that coming. Did you?”
“Hmmm, I think I did. I think they're the kind of people that are meant to be together.”
“I think we're that kind of people, too,” he said, tilting my chin up and dipping his mouth to mine. The kiss was soft and gentle, familiar and good. I kicked my legs over and up onto his lap and wrapped my arms tightly around his neck. The kiss deepened until we heard kids running up the path behind us.
“Maybe,” I teased. He nuzzled my nose. I loved him, but I was afraid to say it. He hadn't said it to me and the words were all I had left of my pride.
The next morning, well before the game was set to start, we crammed Derrick and two other players into the back of my car, and drove almost all the way back up to Leavenworth to a little hole in the wall restaurant called Take a Break Cafe. Someone told Derrick they had the best food around. Whoever it was wasn't kidding, and the food portions were gargantuan and filled up all those boys.
It was a perfect night game, too. Our team won and we got to watch their fireworks show. Cole and the other players were allowed out on the field after the game to watch them and he brought me down with him. I lay on my back in the grass next to him, watching colors explode above us.
“Hey,” he said, looking over at me.
“What?” I asked without turning to him.
“I love you.”
“No, you don't,” I said, but that time I turned to face him.
“Yes, I do. I love you, beautiful. I really do. Thanks for being here with me. For giving me another chance ... and another.”
“Hey, we agreed not to go back there.”
“Fair enough.” He leaned over toward me, grabbed me by the waist, and kissed me again.
Everything about Cole and my life revolved around baseball so it was perfect that my game of love had turned into a baseball diamond. And whether I tore up the pieces or not, he remembered the bases and the rules, and planned to follow them.
The season ender came and I was reluctant to let him go, but I knew I had to. I knew it was how it had to be. He had a life and his two families, and Stacy's parents on the East Coast to tend to. I told him I loved him a few days after he told me, but I was still just a girlfriend. I couldn't keep him from all of that, nor could I expect him to leave it all for me. If there were any two people on the planet who understood the need to be free to move and go at will, it was us. Long-distance relationships didn't scare me. I had my parents to model after; I wasn't worried that my love for him would fizzle, and I no longer had a fear of him playing around on me. He was a new man. We'd be OK, and we would figure things out as we went. It was our relationship and we could make it go however we wanted.
The season ended the way it began, with me out on the field with Cole. A men's quartet of retired airmen called the Fly Guys sang the Star Spangled Banner. When they were finished I asked the crowd to give them a hand. As they clapped, Cole ran out from the dugout and took the mic from me and motioned for the crowd to quiet down.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you all for coming out to watch us this year. You have been a phenomenal crowd.” He tipped his hat to them, as did all the other players.
“Because you're so awesome, I'm sure you'll indulge me for a moment, right?” He grabbed my hand and took me out to third.
“You and your bases,” he said, lowering onto one knee. “This is third. You know what I'm going to do, don't you?” He popped the top on the ring box.
“Ohhhh, are you really?” I asked and turned to the crowd, throwing my hands up, making them cheer for us.
“Tatum Rodriguez, I love you ... I want to spend the rest of my life with you ... and play baseball with you, and knock one out of the park with you,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, “for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”
&nb
sp; I wrapped my arms around his neck as he stood and must have said yes a dozen times between kisses. It was a perfect ending to a perfect season. It didn't matter at that moment that we both had our sights set on careers that would probably have us traveling in opposite directions. All that mattered was our love, a love that had been miraculously given a second chance.
The game ended the way it would, in a happy ending, with a shut-out win for the Patriots. Three days later, before he had to leave for home, we set the date. We would be married the day before opening day of the next year. We would get married on home plate of the Patriots field and begin our first inning together.
The dates and deadlines came and went and half of what we were supposed to have done for the wedding never got finished. Six months into the planning we regretted our hasty wedding date. Because of the game schedule, we would have no honeymoon. All we would get was one night in Seattle.
And then, like a flick of the fingers, it was time. He came over two weeks before the season started to help with last minute details. Our far-away family members flew in; Don and Russ, and the other season ticket holders Cole and I had come to know and love, were notified and formally invited.
My dress was short, white, and strapless. I wanted one no longer than my knees to keep from dragging in the dirt. I wore no panties per Cole's request, but he wore a full-on tux. He was determined for the longest time to wear his hat, but in the end I won that fight, reminding him that I would also be going without something of my own.
We waited to score the first run of our second chance. I demanded it and became more firm in my conviction the closer to game day we got. My mom had been right all those years ago and I was determined to make him wait, even though he reminded me it wasn't waiting if he already knew.
“You knew me when I was a girl. Trust me; you have no idea what I'm capable of now.” I teased.
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