I raised an eyebrow at him and he rolled his eyes.
“It’s my job,” he clarified. He took his jacket off and handed it to me. “Here, toss this over your waist and just let me see your leg. Hurry up or I’ll just drive you to the ER.”
I growled at him and began unbuttoning my jeans. It was awkward not only because Harlan was sitting right next to me (even though he was looking the other way), but because his car felt so small and I barely had room to maneuver. I did, however, get my pants down just far enough to see the injury.
“Oh, gosh,” I breathed out. There was a slash across my leg that was about three inches long.
“Just don’t look at it,” he said as he examined it closer. “This will sting a little…I’m just going to disinfect it so I can see what I’m looking at here…”
Ooh, it did burn, but I didn’t say anything as I looked out my window.
“When was your last tetanus shot?” he asked.
“Uh…probably when I was a kid. Oh, please don’t tell me I need a tetanus shot.”
“You’ve most likely been cut with metal. But the good news is that you don’t need stitches.”
“Oh, thank goodness.”
“But you need the tetanus shot anyways if you’re not up to date.”
I groaned.
“All done. You can pull up your knickers now.”
I gave him a look and we both started to laugh. But I glanced down at my leg to see that it looked much better, and he’d even put a couple of bandages over the scrape.
“Thanks, Doc.”
“Put the ice back on it; I’m going to go talk to your sister and let her know what’s going on.”
“Oh, come on,” I moaned.
“Ellie, you should probably have it x-rayed tonight.”
“Then I’ll go get it x-rayed. Please don’t tell Dawn what happened. She is going to freak out.”
“Then how do I explain that you’re sitting in my car, icing your leg?”
“Just let me walk back in there, finish watching the game, and Gage can take me when he’s done.” He didn’t look convinced so I said, “It’s not broken, I promise.”
With a laugh he said, “You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that very thing. And also the opposite. In this case you shouldn’t be self-diagnosing your injury. I’m sure you’ve just got some deep tissue bruising, but I can’t be certain unless it gets x-rayed. It’s better to be sure.”
In defiance, I opened the car door and got out. Just trying to climb out of his tiny Boxster was ridiculous.
Harlan got out of the car too. “Well you’re going to have to put up with me, as well,” he told me with a sigh. He watched me walk toward the stadium and shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this,” he quietly groaned.
Somehow I managed to remember Dawn’s Snickers bar, and just using the excuse that there was a long line seemed to be good enough. She didn’t even question the fact that Harlan had returned with me, and for that I was especially grateful.
However, the game just finished up when the last two batters struck out, and Gage’s team ended up losing 2-1. Dawn and Wyatt left right at the conclusion, but I sat around with Harlan to wait for Gage. I could even tell that Gage was really bothered that Harlan was still with me, and I couldn’t blame him. His cautious gaze disappeared, though, when Harlan explained to him what had happened in the parking lot.
I was exhausted by the end of the night. Gage had taken me to the ER and Harlan met us there. Thankfully I got to fill out the paperwork while I sat in an exam room—a perk from being escorted by the doctor himself. Another technician took my x-rays for me while Gage waited in the other room with Harlan. Nothing was broken, but I had one hell of a bruise that covered about six square inches of my left thigh. And after the trauma of the tetanus shot was over with, Gage insisted on driving me back to my parents’ house in Lake Oswego. Then he took my dad to the ballpark to pick up my car and bring it home.
It was almost two in the morning by the time I actually went to sleep that night.
I should have known that Dawn would find out what happened sooner or later. I had to get up at four-thirty for work, but she called me at the office at eight and really laid into me about how I handled the situation (by not telling her). I tried to explain that it was only because I didn’t want everyone else in the stands to know too, and she took offense to that, feeling accused of being overdramatic. It was true, so I didn’t even deny it. It amazed me that she was so calm when it came to her job, but I guess other people’s trauma isn’t the same as dealing with her own family.
I was exhausted by the time I got home that afternoon. Gage was just arriving at the ballpark for another game and he insisted that I stay at home and rest. It was a good thing because I conked out at five o’clock and didn’t wake up until he called to check on me at nine. I didn’t even see him for the next two days because his team had away games, so when Friday night rolled around, I was dead set on seeing him pitch again.
My leg was still sore, but it was a lot better than the first couple of days. I guess I was just thankful that it wasn’t worse. I could only imagine how bad it would suck if I’d actually broken my leg.
Over the next week I gradually got familiar with a few of Gage’s teammates. He had a couple of guys that he formed friendships with right away, and they would say hi when they saw me at the games. I hardly got to spend any time with Gage because I went to work so early, and then he left for his games almost around the same time that I was heading home for the day. If it was a home game, his team arrived early to prepare the field, and if it was an away game, he had to leave earlier in the afternoon to travel. On days there weren’t games they’d practice in the mornings, but sometimes they even practiced earlier in the day and then had their game that night.
I knew the two guys from California really had moved into Wyatt’s house because there wasn’t another host family to house them yet. They tried squeezing in with another pair of guys that were housed, but it was just too crowded. I hadn’t met them or seen them at the house because I hadn’t even been there for a while. Life kind of seemed to get busier when I took on more responsibilities at work, and it became more of a challenge to balance everything.
The weekends tended to be when I tried to sleep a little extra, but it was also when I just enjoyed doing nothing. Gage’s games were usually in the afternoon on Saturdays and Sundays, so I got to sleep and relax a little, and even if he wasn’t pitching that day, I still made it to the ballpark. I just liked being there where he was, no matter if he was playing or not.
He pitched again on Sunday, and since my parents were both off that day, they also went to his game. Gage was comfortable around my parents, and they liked him as well. I’d met Gage’s parents only once when they came up from Medford the week before to watch him pitch.
They were enjoyable to be around, but I particularly liked his dad because he was funny and easy going. Helen was pleasant enough, but she wasn’t really warm and friendly like my own mother was. I thought it might just take some time for her to get comfortable around me, but Gage admitted that she was just a little more serious most of the time.
Dan was kind of the opposite, and if it hadn’t been for his light-hearted personality, it might have been difficult to be around Gage’s mom. Dan and Helen were both at Gage’s game that Sunday afternoon, so I introduced them to my parents and was glad they had each other to talk to.
When the game had ended, the players began their usual routine of straightening up the field—raking the infield and both the home and visitor’s bullpens, cleaning up the dugouts, etcetera—and I sat and waited for Gage as usual. My parents had invited his parents over for dinner, so while they further discussed details and directions, I casually observed the guys working on the field. I was beginning to get down a lot of their personalities just by being at the games and watching them interact with their teammates or other people, or just from things that Gage oc
casionally said.
Benji was the goofy one—always happy but seeming to love anything that made anyone laugh. Gary was the hardest on himself—you could tell when he wasn’t happy about a play he didn’t make or something that didn’t go right. Vance tended to be the team cheerleader—being a bench player didn’t give him much else to do. And then there were ‘the mosts’: Troy talked the most, Kiani argued with the umpires the most, Reese spit the most, and Jamey slapped the most butts.
Then there was the guy that I deemed to be the biggest loner on the team. I knew he was one of the pitchers because I’d see him hanging out with the other pitchers in the bullpen, but I didn’t believe I’d seen him pitch yet. But every game he was out there taking care of the fields, whether it was beforehand when the guys hosed the dirt infield to keep the dust down, or afterward when—every game—he would take a rake to the far side of the field and rake out the visitor’s bullpen all by himself. I hardly ever saw him talk to anyone either, but I didn’t notice him all the time, so I guess I couldn’t decide if that was true or not.
He easily caught my attention that afternoon because he had the rake in his hand and was headed across the field for the visitor’s pen. It was probably only the third or fourth game I’d noticed him at so I didn’t even know his name or anything.
I didn’t have a roster either, so I was trying to look up the team information on my phone when Gage called my name from the dugout and motioned me to come down. A lot of people usually joined the players down on the field after a game, but I always stayed in the stands. I just didn’t want to get in Gage’s way while they were cleaning up, and I didn’t want to seem like the needy, clingy girlfriend either.
“We’re having a team meeting in a little bit, so I’ll probably be a little late,” he told me.
“Oh, really? Your parents are coming over, too.”
“They are? Hmm. Well I’ll do my best to get there as soon as I can then. What time is it now?”
I checked my phone and said, “Four-fifteen.”
“Then I should get there by six. Okay, sounds good,” he nodded. He slid his hand behind my neck and gave me a kiss. When he pulled away I noticed that one guy again.
“Gage, what’s his deal?” I asked, nodding toward the pitcher coming back from the bullpen.
“Who, Tyse?”
“Is that his name? Number fifteen. He’s a pitcher, right?”
“Yeah, Tyse Morgan. He’s another starter but hasn’t played yet. Something about getting cleared because of a hand injury, I think. He’s really good though; I’ve seen him throw some practice sessions. Why do you ask?”
“Is he always like that? Kind of…loner-ish? He always seems to be by himself.”
“Yeah, he is. He’s really quiet at home, too.”
I paused as I understood what he meant. “He’s one of the guys that lives with you now?”
He nodded. “He’s from San Diego, and so is…” He glanced around the field for a few seconds until he found who he was looking for. “So is Wes,” he nodded to a guy that was carrying some equipment to the storage shed.
“Do they both know each other?”
“No, they’re from different cities. Wes just graduated from high school, and Tyse might be a few years older. Why do you ask?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I kind of feel sorry for him. I just wondered if maybe you could talk to him a little more. Maybe he just feels out of place here or something.”
“Aw, you’re such a softy,” he smiled. “You’re like the playground teacher, trying to make sure everyone gets along. But Tyse kind of puts up his own walls; I assume he prefers it that way. Hey, I gotta get going though,” he added. “Sorry, but I just wanted to tell you I might be a little late for dinner.”
“Okay, no problem. Better late than not at all.”
I wanted to kiss him again, but I always felt self-conscious around his teammates. However, Gage was the one that kissed me and told me goodbye one last time.
Chapter Seven
“Hey, you left before I could talk to you,” Miranda said to me over the phone. I was just pulling onto the freeway from work, headed for Gage’s house. He didn’t have a game that Wednesday night, and I was looking forward to spending some time with him.
“Sorry, I finally have a relaxing evening to look forward to,” I chuckled.
“With Gage? He’s such a cutie, Elle. I’m glad your first date worked out.”
“Not because of anything I did, though,” I clarified. “Gage is just really easy to get along with. Anyways, what’d you need to talk to me about?”
“Oh! Just some rumors I heard.”
“Oh yeah? About me?”
“Yep. And about Gina’s maternity leave that starts in August.”
“I’m not following you…”
“They’re looking for someone to replace her on the afternoon show for six weeks.”
“Oh, yeah… Oh! You mean…?”
“Yep, I heard your name mentioned, like, five times!”
I sucked in a breath of air. “Really?”
“Uh huh. I think you’re a shoe in for it, but don’t tell anyone that I told you.”
“Oh no, no, I won’t,” I assured her.
“Okay, that’s all I wanted to tell you, so I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Miranda.”
“Yep, no problem. Enjoy your night.”
I was pretty excited as I took the exit for Gage’s neighborhood. All I could think about was getting even closer to a permanent position on-air one of these days, and I’d forgotten that Gage was with Wyatt and wasn’t going to be home until four-thirty. I had planned on stopping at the store because I was going to make him dinner, and it completely slipped my mind.
I sat parked in front of his house for a minute, trying to decide what to do. I actually didn’t even feel like heading for the grocery store, so I just decided to be lazy and order pizza instead. I knew anything was fine with Gage, so I made my way into the house to find a phone book.
I guess I didn’t even consider anyone else being in the house, so when I sat at the kitchen counter and put in my order for delivery, I almost fell off the stool when a guy came out of the back bedroom. He was just wearing a pair of shorts, and as I recognized the tattoo on his shoulder and the other one on his upper arm, I also noticed a smaller one on the left side of his chest.
I quickly finished up my order on the phone.
It was strange how everything kind of came together at once, and as I pictured this guy stepping out of a car that had just hit me in a parking lot, I also recalled who else was supposed to be staying in Wyatt’s house. I had to look him over very carefully because this guy did not look at all like the pitcher that was supposed to be living with Gage.
He was eyeing me funny too, but he didn’t say anything as he came into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. I knew that I had maneuvered myself out of the kitchen at the same time, and I could tell he realized that. Finally he faced me and said, “Don’t worry, I’m not in a car with a lunatic driver.”
I only stared at him for a moment, and just from hearing him speak confirmed that he really was the same guy. First I recognized the tattoos, second was his admittance to being in the car, but third was just the sound of his voice.
“Um…”
“Gage isn’t here,” he said. “But I’m sure you already know that.”
“Uh…”
He finally cracked a tiny little smirk at the corner of his mouth when he said, “I’m pretty sure you talk because you had a lot to say a couple of weeks ago.”
I kind of scoffed. “Why don’t you get hit by a car and see how you like it.”
“Nah, I probably wouldn’t.” He wandered into the family room and dropped onto the couch. “How is your leg doing, by the way? You seem to get around okay.”
I eyed him for a few seconds before I said, “Yeah, it’s fine.”
He was quiet for a
moment, like he was thinking. “I’m really sorry about that,” he finally said, and he seemed very sincere about it. “Nate really is a moron, and I tell him that almost every day. He didn’t actually believe me until you said it to him. Now he’s finally starting to ask himself the really deep questions.”
I almost smiled. “So who’s Nate?” I asked. I joined him in the family room but remained standing.
“Oh, just a buddy.”
A prison buddy? I almost asked.
“He gave me a ride up here,” he added.
“From California?”
He gave me a curious look. “Uh, yeah.” He downed the rest of his water and stood from the couch. “Your boyfriend’s home,” he said casually. And with that he disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door.
Gage was home, but I hadn’t even heard him pull in. I had to shake myself out of the weird realization that had all come together—the parking lot incident, the loner baseball pitcher, and now the ex-con/pitcher living in the same house as my boyfriend. But Gage was happy to see me, so that became the highlight of my day, and I put all the other thoughts aside.
The house began to fill up by the time the pizza was delivered. I met Wes for the first time when he returned from hanging out with two other teammates, bringing them in with him. I invited them to stay because I’d ordered four pizzas, thinking that Wyatt and Gage and the two other ball players could handle that pretty well. Plus leftovers were always welcomed in the house. But I didn’t foresee any leftovers this time with six guys being there.
When everyone had pretty much filled their plates and grabbed drinks, they gathered in the family room and made an audience for the television. I noticed that there was one guy missing from the group though, and while I was standing in the kitchen with Gage, I asked if his other roommate wanted to eat with us.
He kind of chuckled. “No, probably not.”
“What do you mean? It’s pizza. Every guy eats pizza.”
“I doubt that’s the problem,” he smiled. “He just keeps to himself, Ellie. No need to bother a guy that doesn’t want to be bothered.”
Summer Swing Page 7
