Beyond the Bases

by Kaylee Ryan

  “All right, Miss Paisley, you ready for some one-on-one?” I ask her.

  “What’s that?”

  She acts like she’s so much older, talks like it too. I forget she’s only four. “That means you and I toss the ball.”

  “Just us?” she asks, her eyes wide.

  “A promise is a promise.”

  She pulls on the bag that’s resting over Larissa’s arm. “Mommy, I need my glove,” she says excitedly.

  Larissa laughs at her daughter; it’s a beautiful sound that fills the now quiet stadium. There are still a few players standing around, and the staff, but the rest of the kids and their families are gone. It’s just the three of us still messing around out here in the outfield. “Hold your horses,” she tells her.

  “Mommy, I don’t have horses,” Paisley says, exasperated, making Larissa and me laugh. Digging in the bag, Larissa reaches her glove and hands it to her daughter. “Ready, East?” she asks me, putting the glove that’s a little too big on her tiny hand and reaching for me with the other.

  We take a few steps away from Larissa and spread out a little. I’m maybe five feet from her. “Okay, the first thing you want to remember is always have your glove up and ready.” I show her what I mean, holding up my glove. “Bend your knees like me,” I instruct her. She bends down, legs spread apart, mimicking my stance. “Good job. Now hold your glove up like this,” I tell her again. She does as instructed, and I toss her the ball. It hits her glove, and she uses her other hand to keep it inside the glove.

  “I did it!” she cheers, jumping up and down, letting the ball fall from her glove.

  “You did. You’re a natural,” I tell her.

  “Did your dad teach you how to catch?” she asks innocently.

  A smile tilts my lips when I think of my father, Jeff Monroe, and baseball. “He did. Playing baseball was his job.” She’s a smart little girl, but I’m not sure she would understand if I said he played professionally. “My uncle’s played with me as well.”

  “You have an uncle?” she asks, her eyes wide.

  “I do.”

  “I don’t have one of those,” she says, looking over at her mom for clarification.

  “No, sweetie,” Larissa says gently. “Mommy and Daddy were both only children, so you have no aunts or uncles.”

  “But I want them. Can we get some?” she asks, her innocence grabbing hold of my heart.

  “It’s not that easy, P. Maybe one day.”

  “Fine,” she grumbles, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Little Paisley Gray reminds me so much of her mother.

  “You ladies hungry?” I ask them.

  “Starving,” Paisley says dramatically, dropping her shoulders as if she’s been waiting days for me to offer her food.

  “How about some pizza? There’s a great place just down the street.”

  “I only like cheese on my pizza. That other stuff is nasty.” She wrinkles her little nose.

  “Cheese is it.” I look over at Larissa. “What do you say? Can I buy you ladies some dinner?”

  She opens her mouth to protest, but Paisley beats her to it. “Of course. Mommy says that when people do something nice for you, you say thank you and accept it. Thank you, East,” she says, wrapping her arms around my leg in a hug. I smooth back some of her dark curls.

  “What do you say, Ris?” I ask, holding my hand out for her.

  She looks at me then to her daughter and back to me again. She exhales loudly, as if the words she’s about to speak pains her to say them. “Thank you, Easton.” Her voice is super sweet with a hint of sarcasm that her daughter doesn’t pick up on. To my surprise, she takes my offered hand, and her palm fits against it as if we’re two puzzle pieces meant to be together. With a smile on my face and a gorgeous girl on either side of me, we leave the stadium to get some cheese pizza.

  I’m sitting across the booth from Easton and P, who insisted she sit next to him, and watching their interaction. He’s been great with her all day. When the pizza, cheese of course, was delivered to our table, she asked him to cut it up for her, and even though I protested that I could do it, he did it himself. All while smiling and listening to my daughter yammer on about how she wants a pink glove but they were sold out when we went to the store.

  “Mommy, can I go play games now?” Paisley asks with pizza sauce all over her face.

  “Not like that you’re not.” Easton laughs and gingerly wipes her mouth with a napkin.

  Watching him with her pulls at something deep inside me. I’ve mourned the loss of my husband, but I don’t know if I’ll ever mourn the loss of the father he was supposed to be to our little girl. I know what it felt like to have his eyes smile at me, what it felt like to be on the receiving end of one of his hugs, but Paisley, she doesn’t. Not just Steve, but any man. Now here we sit, with the all-star, the king of the Blaze, Easton Monroe, and he’s lavishing her—hell, if I’m honest—both of us with his attention, and my daughter is soaking it up like a sponge. Me, on the other hand, I’m fighting it—this pull I feel every time he ruffles her hair or returns her hug. Every time he smiles down at her then turns that megawatt grin on me, I’m fighting it, but I don’t know how much longer I can.

  “There,” he says, setting down the napkin. “Now can we go, Mom?” he asks. I raise my eyebrows in question, and he shrugs. “We want to play Skee-ball.”

  “One game, then we need to get going. It’s almost your bedtime,” I tell her. She nods her little head up and down like a bobblehead doll. Reaching into my purse for some singles, I turn to hand them the money, but they’re already gone, racing toward the games.

  Just as I’m about to join them, my cell phone rings. When I see Chloe’s face on the screen, I know that if I don’t answer, she’ll keep calling back. “Hey,” I greet her, keeping my eyes on Easton and P.

  “Where are you?”

  “Pizza place just down from the stadium.”

  “Oh yeah?” she asks coyly. “How was it today? Did you run into him?”

  “I did. I saw Drew as well.”

  “So I heard. I also heard the three of you left together.”

  “We did.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” I’m evading, and we both know it.

  “Spill it, woman.”

  “He offered to take us to dinner and offered pizza. You know little miss loves her pizza.”

  “Uh-huh, what next?”

  “She was excited, and he’s been so good to her all day, I didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

  “What about you? Has he been good to you?”

  “He’s… not at all what I pegged him to be. You should see him with her, Chloe. He jumps right in, cutting up her food, wiping her mouth. They’re now playing Skee-ball.” Once my words register, worry starts to kick in. “What am I doing? I can’t let my daughter get attached to him. Stupid,” I mutter to myself.

  “First of all, it’s one day. Second, you’re not stupid. You need to open up, live a little. Drew assures me that East is a good guy.”

  “Said the ax murderer’s mother,” I bite back.

  She laughs. “You know better than that.”

  She’s right, I do. There is just something about him, this feeling I get when he’s around that I know deep in my bones he’s a good guy. I would never let him get this close to Paisley otherwise. “Still,” I try to argue.

  “Stop.” Chloe whispers something then comes back on the line. “You sound happy, Larissa. For the first time in a long time, I hear hope in your voice. Sure, you risk both of you getting hurt, but life can be painful. That little girl is stronger than what you give her credit for. She’s just like her mama.”

  “I need to go,” I say, wanting to go to them.

  “Call me later.”

  “Yeah, let me get P home and in bed.” We end the call, and I stand to go find them. What I find has a few more of the bricks around my heart crumbling to the ground. Easton is sitting behind one of thos
e NASCAR driving games with Paisley in his lap, hands clutching the steering wheel.

  “Turn to the left,” he tells her, laughing as they crash into a wall. “Your other left.”

  “I don’t know which way that is.” She giggles. Her laughter is infectious, and I feel a smile spreading across my lips. An outsider looking in would never know that she’s not his daughter. They both have dark brown eyes, their hair’s an even match for color, and the way he is with her, that alone speaks volumes to me. I stand there and watch them laugh and cut up until the game ends. When Easton climbs out from behind the wheel, Paisley is in his arms, and he places her on his hip. She rests her head on his shoulder, and it takes everything in me not to let the sob that’s clogging my throat break free.

  “Hey, there’s Mommy,” he says softly to her.

  “You about ready, kiddo? It’s been a long day for you,” I say, pushing her hair back from her eyes.

  “Can East come too?” she asks.

  He looks at me, hope brewing in his eyes.

  “Maybe another time. We need to get you a bath and into bed.”

  “You promise?” she asks, pulling at my heartstrings.

  Easton reaches out and grabs my hand. “I’ll call your mom, and we’ll figure out when I can see you again, okay, princess?”

  “Okay,” she readily agrees with him.

  “I’ll take her.” I hold my arms out.

  “I got her. I paid the check, so we should be good to go. Do you have what you need?” he asks me.

  “Yes.”

  He laces his fingers through mine, and that’s how we leave the restaurant. At my car, I unlock the door and hold my arms out for P.

  “I’ve got her,” he says, setting her in her seat. “Princess, how do you work this thing?” I hear him ask, and she giggles.

  “Not like that, East. It goes like this,” she explains.

  “Are you sure?” His tone is playful.

  “Y-yes.” She giggles again.

  “Thank you for hanging out with me today.”

  “Thank you too,” she says with a yawn.

  They mumble a few more words before he stands and shuts the door. He reaches for my hand, and I don’t have it in me to pull away. “She’s a great kid,” he says, his voice low.

  “Thank you.” I push the words past my lips.

  “Can I see the two of you again?” he asks. I must not hide the shocked expression very well, because he continues. “I like you, Larissa. I want to explore that, and she’s a part of you, a package deal, the icing on the cake so to speak.”

  “Not a deal breaker?” I ask him, holding my breath.

  “No.” His answer is short and firm. “Can I have your number? I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can make plans.”

  I nod, taking his offered phone and typing in my number before handing it back to him. Quickly, his fingers fly across the screen, and I feel my phone vibrate in my purse. “Now you have my number, you know, in case you tossed it in the trash the last time. I want you to use it, Larissa. Call me anytime for any reason.”

  “Thank you for today. For being so great with her.” I don’t tell him that the piece of paper that fell out of the menu is tucked away in my wallet. I couldn’t seem to make myself throw it away.

  “The pleasure was all mine.” He steps into me until there is barely any space between us. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he says, leaning in and pressing his lips to my forehead. I trample down the disappointment that his lips didn’t press to mine. Stepping back, he opens the door for me and waits until I’m inside and driving away before he makes his way to his truck. I watch him in the mirror, sneaking glances until I can no longer see him.

  Paisley is asleep by the time we get home, so I carry her in and put her straight to bed. She needs a bath, but tomorrow is Sunday and I don’t work until the afternoon. We’ll sleep in, make breakfast, and worry about a bath before I drop her off to Mom.

  As I’m climbing into bed, my phone pings on the nightstand. Grabbing it, I see an unknown number.

  Unknown: You girls make it home okay?

  Easton.

  Me: We did. Miss P fell asleep on the way home, and barely moved a muscle when I carried her to bed.

  Easton: I had a great time with the two of you. Thank you.

  Me: We had fun too.

  Easton: I’ll call you tomorrow to set up plans.

  Me: I know you’re busy. We don’t expect it. I can handle breaking it to Paisley.

  Easton: I never break my promises. Sweet dreams, Ris.

  Letting my phone fall to the bed, I close my eyes, and all I see is him. Him with the kids today, him playing with Paisley, them eating pizza and playing arcade games. The way he carried her as if she was precious to him and put her in the car. The way his lips pressed against my forehead. The feel of his hot breath against my skin. I drift off to sleep dreaming of Easton Monroe.

  It’s been over a week since I’ve seen her. With away games, practice, and team meetings, I’ve had no time and what time I did have exhaustion set in and my bed was calling my name. This week we have a rare three days in a row without games. I’m hoping out of those three days, I can convince Larissa to go out with me. I know she probably hates to leave Paisley, but I need some time with her. It’s selfish, but it’s fact. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I send her a text.

  Me: Hey, Ris. I was hoping you and I could get together soon.

  Larissa: I don’t know. I hate to take another night away from Paisley.

  Me: We can bring her if you want.

  Larissa: I don’t want to interrupt her routine. She goes to bed early.

  Me: Please?

  I wait, tapping the screen of my phone every time it starts to dim, watching for the little bubble to appear that tells me she’s responding. Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, the bubble appears and her reply comes through.

  Larissa: I’m off tomorrow night.

  Me: So it’s a date?

  Larissa: I’m not sure. I also need to talk to Mom to see if she can watch P.

  Me: We can go early if that helps?

  Larissa: A day date?

  Me: You can call it anything you want as long as I get to spend some time with you.

  Larissa: And P can come too?

  She’s a cute kid, and of course she’s welcome, but I want time with her. I don’t say that, because I know as a single mom, her options are limited.

  Me: Always.

  Larissa: Give me some time. I’m wrapping up some homework now.

  Me: You have class today?

  Larissa: I take some online classes, but there are a few I can only take on campus. It’s convenient that as long as I log in daily, and submit my work, I’m good to go. Helps that I can do it on days off and after P is in bed.

  Me: Nice.

  Me: So, I’ll be waiting to hear from you.

  Larissa: Give me fifteen minutes.

  Me: I’m not going anywhere.

  My words have double meaning, and I know Larissa can figure it out. She’s a smart girl. She’s more than just her beauty; she’s the full package—smart, funny, easygoing, and one hell of a mother. That alone tells me that she’s one of the good ones. That and the fact that she couldn’t give a fuck that I’m a major league baseball player. I like that a whole hell of a lot.

  Keeping my phone clutched in one hand and the remote in the other, I skim through the channels. Nothing is catching my eye. It’s not the lack of options, but the fact that all I can think about is Larissa and if I’m going to get to see her while I’m home. I check my phone knowing damn good and well that I haven’t missed a call or text, but on the slight chance, I do it anyway.

  What has she done to me?

  My phone rings, causing me to jump and fumble the phone. When I get a good grip on it again, I look at the screen and see my little sister Pepper’s face. She’s ten years younger than me at fifteen. I debate on answering in case Larissa calls, but decide I better. I always tell her she
can call me if she doesn’t want to call Mom and Dad.

  “Hey, Pep,” I greet her.

  “East, good game yesterday.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How are you? It seems like forever since I’ve talked to you.”

  “You know how it is during the season. You good?”

  “Yeah, just hanging out. I’ve been babysitting for the Lawrence’s down the street. They have five-year-old twins. It’s easy money.”

  I think about Paisley. She’s just a year younger and spending all day with her, I’m sure would be an adventure. “That’s great. You saving up for a car?” I tease. We all know that Mom and Dad are going to buy her a car, but we all like to tease her that she has to buy it on her own. We were spoiled with Dad being a major league player. Not to the point that we are entitled, but we never wanted for anything either.

  “Ha ha, no, just spending money and something to do. Josie went to stay with her grandparents this summer and I’m bored out of my mind.”

  Her theatrics make me laugh. “Hang in there, kid.”

  I can practically hear her rolling her eyes at me. “Kid? Really, Easton? I’m fifteen. I’ll be sixteen in four months,” she reminds me. She reminds all of us daily.

  “Sorry, it slipped,” I lie.

  “Sure,” she grumbles. “I better go, I told Mom I would load and unload the dishwasher before she and Dad got home. They’ll be here any minute.”

  “What have you done all day?” I ask her.

  “Nothing much, just laid around the pool.”

  “Go, before you get in trouble. Be good, Pep.”

  “Love you,” she sing-songs, and ends the call.

  Just as I’m setting my phone on the table, I get a text notification.

  Larissa: I don’t want to leave P with Mom again at night.

  Me: Day date?

  Luckily tomorrow is a short morning practice. An hour in the weights room and two on the field. I should have plenty of time to still have our day date. If she chooses the morning, I’ll make an excuse to Coach, that’s how badly I need to see her. To spend some time with her. To see if me missing her is really what this is. What else could it be? She’s all I’ve been able to think about.