by Lindsey Iler
“Graham Black.” The stranger reaches out for my hand, and I shake his. “I’m Steven Miller. Coach Boone here thinks you have a real future in the majors. The buzz around you in high school, and now the season you’re having this year, I can’t blame him for his enthusiasm.”
“This season’s been tough, but our team’s strong.”
“A team player, I see? I like it.” He nods in appreciation. “Threw a no-hitter last week. Batting average is stellar. It seems to me that you were meant for the game, Mr. Black.”
“Thank you, Sir. It’s always been the dream.”
“Your father must be really proud of all your accomplishments.”
At the mention of my father, I remind myself Mr. Miller has no idea of my past. “My mother’s very proud. She came all the way from Tennessee with my girlfriend’s parents. No pressure, right?”
Mr. Miller slaps me on the shoulder. “A little pressure never broke anyone, Graham. I’ll see you out there.” He turns to Coach Boone, shakes his hand, and exits the office.
“You nervous, kid?”
“Yes.” I take a deep breath.
“Well, good luck, and don’t fuck this up for yourself.”
“That’s all you have for me? No wise words?”
“Those were wise words.” He sits down in his chair and shoos me to the door. “Now, go get ready. We warm up in ten.”
When I walk onto the field, I glance up into the stands. Mr. and Mrs. Conrad are beside my mom, and behind them, Kennedy laughs at my mother. I half hoped Violet would make the trip. Things have been rough between the two. Violet’s been spending a lot of time with her mom, who’s moved to the city to get away from Violet’s father.
No divorce is easy, but this one is packed with animosity and hatred. Violet’s only ever known rainbows and sunshine, so now, with her world being torn apart, she doesn’t know how to react. She lashes out at Kennedy, and Kennedy takes it on the chin like a champion. She knows it’s her time to carry the burden on her shoulders.
Kennedy lifts her camera to her eye and grins. I nod at an open space on the fence, knowing she’ll wait there for me. She stops every few steps and snaps a picture. When I finish warming up, she shoves the camera in my face and clicks away, capturing me making faces at her.
“You ready?” she asks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I lean over the fence and kiss her quick, before Coach can yell at me.
“Ben’s coming. I convinced Betty to bring him. I think she’s getting annoyed with me.” She plays with the dials on the lens.
“No kid in that place has had this many outings. She’s adjusting to it, but I’m glad you pestered her. He’s kind of like my little luck charm.” I grin. “I mean, he’s sort of the reason why we got back together.” She knows it’s true.
“Well, I better go keep our mothers in line.” Kennedy turns and waves over her shoulder with a proud smile. “See you after?” I nod and turn around. The whole team pretends to swoon and mock our conversation.
“Shut up, assholes.”
After the National Anthem, I take my spot on the mound. I visualize each time I release the ball from my hand. The first pitch sets the mood for the game. Mark grins when I throw a nasty fastball that disappears in front of the batter’s eyes. The one on the receiving end smirks because he knows he’ll never touch a pitch like that.
The first inning goes by fast. Neither team manages to get a hit. Things change quick in the second and third. Going into the fourth, we hold the lead at six to five. Mr. Miller stands along the fence, right on the edge of my vision. Somehow, I’ve managed to forget he’s here, but seeing him reminds me he may very well hold my future in his hands.
The next two batters hit triples, running two into home, then a third, and a fourth. My cleats dig into the dirt. My frustration heats my face. I rip off my hat and wipe my brow. Mark walks to the mound to talk to me when the scoreboard reads nine to six.
His mouth covered by his glove, he leans into me. “See all those people up there? Your mom. Kennedy’s parents. Kennedy. Your friends. Ben. The scout. None of them matter. What matters is what happens on this field. Allow them to melt away. You got this, Graham.”
“I’m inside my own head,” I admit.
“What can I do to help?” Mark grins.
“Will you do the Macarena for me?” I laugh.
“Will it help?”
“I guess we’ll see.”
“Maybe I’ll go viral like Kennedy did.”
Mark does the dance for me. His ass gyrates across the screen. He wiggles back and forth, giving the audience a show. Halfway between me and home plate, he bows, and the crowd goes wild. When he crouches back into position, he grins and nods, which is his silent way of saying I’m in control.
I collect myself and finish off the game with no hits. The other pitchers give away enough to have the final score be ten to nine.
“You had me scared there, Mr. Black.” Kennedy runs down the bleachers, hanging her head over the side of the dugout.
I turn to her and wink.
“She wasn’t the only one,” Mr. Miller says as he walks in front of the dugout. “No hitters aren’t necessarily what we strive for in the majors. Sometimes, the pitchers who dig themselves out of a hole make the team. I’ll be in contact.” His hand reaches out to shake mine, and I thank him as he leaves.
Kennedy’s mouth falls open. “That was good, right? I mean, he’ll be in contact means he’ll be in contact?” She jumps up and down, pure joy written on her face.
“I’m not going to get my hopes up.” I shrug.
“Seriously? It’s a big deal.”
“She’s right, Black. Listen to your girlfriend.” Coach Boone nods his chin to Kennedy, who’s still in the middle of a victory dance. Seeing her so happy makes me laugh.
“Either way, we still have a season to play. I’m only worried about right now and the things I can control,” I explain. “I better go shower.”
Kennedy rolls her eyes. She hates when I downplay things like this. I get it. It’s a big deal, but it’s not in my hands right now.
I climb the fence and kiss her, tossing my hat over her head. She wears it with pride. “Hold onto that for me?” I ask. She nods, adjusting it on her head.
“Rico, you still cooking us all dinner?” Kennedy yells.
“I sure am,” he answers her.
By the time I shower, talk to Coach, and pull into the driveway, my house is full of laughter. Ben’s in the middle of entertaining our family and friends. Kennedy’s eyes turn to me as I lean against the door frame, hidden away from everyone else. Mrs. Conrad and my mom fall into a fit of laughter at something Betty says. Mr. Conrad hangs back, much like me, with pride filling his eyes.
There isn’t one thing I wouldn’t do for each of them, I think to myself.
Kennedy wraps her arms around my waist and rests her cheek on my chest. “How did we get here?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m sure as hell glad we did.” I kiss her head.
This is my family. This is our family.
The beautiful day makes the decision to walk to work well worth it. I love the way the city smells this time of year. Fresh blooms, hot pretzels, and coffee are the exact way I describe New York in the spring for my mother. She always laughs and I always shake my head on the other end of the phone because those three things sum up my New York.
History proves New York City is cut throat. Only the strong survive, or something like that, so they say. The idea a city is capable of destroying someone appeals to me, but only because it means the strength I’ve dug deep to find within myself has paid off. As the ground shakes from the trains down below, I walk through the mean streets of tall skyscrapers with my head held high. Nothing can stop me from feeling empowered and in control.
A few short blocks from The Knox, my phone vibrates. Violet’s name screams at me, and I push ignore. She and I don’t have anything to talk about right now. Our argument has turned he
r cold and distant, and perhaps I am, too. One of us will apologize, and the other will fall in place, and we’ll swear to never fight with each other again. Best friends act irrationally, but in the end, we know we have each other’s back. Even when we don’t agree with the choices being made.
The phone vibrates again, and I allow it to ring. As immature as it may seem, she can leave a voicemail. I step through the front door, and heat from the mass of bodies hits me. The place is stuffed like a can of sardines. Sweat and cologne waft through the room. How is it possible guys haven’t figured out less is more in all of these years?
I toss my purse over the counter. David catches it without dropping the bottle of tequila in his hand.
“You do realize this thing is vibrating, right?” He smirks and wiggles his eyebrows. Clearly, he’s entertaining the idea it’s for reasons other than my cellphone.
“Try to ignore it, and David, get your head out of the gutter.”
When I open the breakroom door, Kate slams her locker shut and leans against it. Between our opposite schedules and my weekends in Connecticut, we haven’t had much time to catch up lately. I’ve missed the income, but the time Graham and I’ve spent relearning each other is irreplaceable.
“What’s up, beautiful?” I grab my apron out of my locker and tie the worn fabric behind my back.
“Sam and I are officially official,” she whispers. A content gleam dances through her eyes.
“Well, congratulations. Now he doesn’t need to worry about a sexual harassment lawsuit.” With gentle pressure, I squeeze her shoulder.
“It’s not just a fling. At least I hope it’s not. This could really go somewhere. I know he acts like a total douche nozzle here at work, but he’s a really nice guy.”
“Did you just call me a douche nozzle?” Sam’s tight voice makes Kate and me look up to the door. He stands there, arms crossed over his chest, and a sweet smile on his face. Until now, a smile I haven’t believed him to be capable of.
Kate waltzes to him, a sway in her hips, kisses his cheek, and wraps her arms around his shoulders. The public declaration of their unwavering commitment to each other makes me groan. When I pass by them, they’re in the middle of whispers and giggles. Nothing I want to witness.
“There’s a grumpy redhead out there, demanding to see you.” Sam reaches out and grips my bicep.
During mine and Violet’s argument, Kate has been sweet enough to lend me an ear. Her sympathetic, knowing smile tells me I need to go out there. She’s right. Violet is family, and I need to right my wrongs and listen to anything my best friend has to say. It’s my turn to be there for her.
“Thanks, Sam.” I smile. “Be good to her, or I’ll kick your ass.”
He nods and turns his full attention back to Kate as I leave the room.
On the main floor, Violet paces in front of the bar. The conversation she’s having with herself must be a good one. Frantic hands wave back and forth, and wild eyes scan the bar. When they fall on me, her face goes slack. She blinks once, and after a long pause, blinks again. A lump forms in my throat at the apprehension staring back at me.
Violet races over and gets right in my face. “I’ve been calling you and texting non-stop for the past half hour.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, messing with the waistband of my apron.
“It’s Graham,” she whispers, but it sounds more like a shout. “There’s been an accident.”
At the dreaded word, my ears flood with background noise. My mind runs in a million directions, imagining a thousand different scenarios. Sweat coats my palms, and even as heat rushes through me, I’m cold in its wake. My heart beats so hard, it’s a wonder it doesn’t burst out of my chest. Like a fish out of water, desperate for air, my lungs beg for relief.
A hand touches mine, breaking through the numbness. My feet follow my brain’s command to move. A part of me is aware of the blurry people I pass. Words spoken don’t quite register. Arms wrap around me, and I realize I’m trembling. Something is stroking my arm. Sharp pain in my fingers pulls me back to the bar.
“Kennedy, we need to go.” Violet squeezes my hand again, hard enough to hurt, but also what I need to help me focus.
When I see the concern and pity on my coworkers faces, my brain reacts.
Something is horribly wrong.
David hands Violet my purse and gives me a sympathetic smile, and she bulldozes her way through the packed crowd. Before I think to breathe, she’s revving the engine and flying down the highway.
My head flops back and forth on the headrest. Violet talks, but I block her from my mind. Call it self-preservation, call it restraint, but when the blood stops rushing in my ears, I will hear the truth my heart’s not ready to acknowledge.
Violet turns down the radio and slaps my thigh. Pain seems to be the only way she can get my attention.
“Kennedy.” The worry in that one simple word scares me far more than I’ve ever been.
“I need some air,” I whisper, rolling down my window. “I just need some air.” I paw at my t-shirt, stretching the V-neck in and out. The breeze the movement creates brings a sliver of relief.
Violet turns the vents my way and cranks the air conditioning.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“I know this is hard, and I know you’re scared, but I need you to listen to me, okay?” Violet hammers her palm on the steering wheel and her hands shake.
My eyes focus on every building we pass, and the lights begin to blur.
“Rico called Amanda almost an hour ago. The guys were playing poker when Graham got a phone call. He ran out of the house like a bat out of hell. Rico saw how scared Graham was, so he followed him. When he turned the corner, Rico saw flames. Kids lined the road across the street from the house. Graham’s car was empty; the door was open; and the engine was still running, Kennedy. Before Rico could do anything to stop him, Graham was already in the building,” she whispers.
The crazy thing about words is they create change. The simple ones she links into sentences ruin me. They pump fear into my heart. A fear like I haven’t felt in a long time.
Tears fall down my face. Instead of wiping them away, I embrace their presence. The idea that they’ll sweep away my pain is ludicrous. Nonetheless, I let them fall until they drip onto my arm.
I don’t need to ask Violet what happened next. I would know if Graham no longer existed in this world. There’s always been the invisible tether between us. The familiar tug tells me everything’s going to be okay, even if it’s not right now.
*****
“We’re here,” Violet’s voice rouses me from my unexpected slumber. I must have cried myself to sleep.
As I sit straight up, the bright lights from the emergency room blare at me. They tell me to turn around to avoid the hurt waiting for me inside those walls.
I grab the door handle, and Violet’s hand on my arm stops me.
“I know we’ve been going through some things, and you don’t understand my reasoning for breaking things off with Dan, but I need you to know, whatever happens, I will always be here for you.”
I take a deep breath and turn to my best friend. “You’re right. I don’t understand, but that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to try.”
“You go be with him.” Her chin nods to the hospital. “I’ll be here.”
My eyes water at the thought of riding the elevator alone, unsure of what waits for me. “You’re not coming up?”
“Figured you might need some coffee. I know I do.”
“I’m going to go then,” I whisper, my hand holds tight to the knob, but I don’t pull.
“The two of you have been through a lot. This is a hurdle. Nothing but a hurdle.”
At Violet’s words, I open the door and jump from my seat. My flats hit the cement, leading me inside. The security guard at the front desk asks if I need any help. His kind smile makes the pain in my chest lessen for a split second. When I tell him Graham’s name, the ache comes back
full force.
“Ma’am, you’ll need to ride the elevator to the fourth floor,” the security guard explains. I nod and give him an appreciative smile.
The lights on the top of the elevator count down from floor nine until the lower level lights up. The door dings open and out walks a couple, gushing over a newborn baby girl. Behind them cries a middle-aged woman. Her head rests on a man’s shoulder. The lost look on his face tells me he has no idea how to comfort her. I know she’s lost someone dear to her heart by the way she clutches at her chest. As if with the death, her heart lurches for an escape to be with the person she’s lost. I understand the feeling all too well, I think as the door closes behind me.
The light shines bright, stopping on the fourth floor. The doors slide apart, and I stand frozen in my own skin. Before my mind can tell me otherwise, I take a long stride out the safe confines of the metal box and turn to the nurses’ station for direction.
“Kennedy?” A voice calls out. I twist and turn until I find Betty walking down the hallway. “He’s down here.”
I race down to her. She wraps me in a hug, running her hand over my hair. She whispers encouragement and I pull away.
“He’s in there?” I glance at the room behind us. 207. A number forever seared into my memory.
“I’m going to go down to the cafeteria, if you need me. He’s sleeping.” She walks down the hall.
“Thank you,” I call out.
She turns back around. “For what, sweetie?”
“Looking after him.” As if it’s not obvious, I shrug.
A sincere smile forms on her lips. “That boy has a special talent of crawling into people’s hearts, huh?” She disappears around the corner without another word.
I push open the matte gray door. The low roar of the television fills the quiet space with noise. A young blonde on the Home Shopping Network attempts to sell what is possibly the ugliest sweater ever made.
His eyes are shut. His hair sticks up in every direction. He wears an unflattering hospital gown, and one arm is wrapped in some sort of bandage. An oxygen mask covers his mouth and nose, and there’s a hint of ash on his cheeks and forehead.
