by Caryl McAdoo
Coffee with a tasty brunch preceded shopping. She let him buy her a pair of killer turquoise shoes that matched one of her last dresses perfectly. Mangos and pineapple pie! She loved how he treated her, but her suitcase overflowed with his lavishness.
Then time to go to work arrived, except she couldn’t imagine how anyone could call interviewing the man who had brought Gij to Texas, work.
Cinnamon sweet rolls with ice cold milk. That was it. She’d study up on his pitching records and – well, she’d check with April and see if her producer had a better angle, but it sounded good. She didn’t, so Sammi Dan memorized a bunch of baseball trivia. Then it was time.
“Mr. Daniels.”
“Way Johnson’s pitching, think he might break his great uncle’s American League consecutive shutout innings record, or even Orel Hershiser’s fifty-nine.”
The GM laughed. “I sure hope so, he just might with his speed and command. It could happen.”
“Speaking of how hard your newest hurler throws—the nay-sayers claim the radar guns are broken, that it’s humanly impossible to throw a baseball a hundred and four miles per hour. Forget the gust up to one-O-six. What’s your take?”
He shrugged. “Ty Cobb’s quoted as saying Walter Johnson was the only pitcher he faced who could make the ball sing. No one knows how hard G. H.’s great-uncle threw since they didn’t have radar back then, but the man’s hundred and ten shutouts are a testament to how good he was, maybe the best ever.” He grinned and nodded.
She peppered him with more questions about Johnson and let him talk about the team in general. Then it was over.
April turned off the camera lights. “Thank you, sir. We appreciate your time.”
He smiled. “Any time, ladies.”
Sammi Dan followed her producer back to the press room. “Boy, he gave us an awesome interview, and he’s so nice. Didn’t you think so? Guess I could’ve asked another question or two, but it seemed like such a good –”
“Actually, we went over our allotted time, but great work, girlfriend. Joe won’t be cutting a second of it. I can hardly wait for our mid-games. This is a hoot, I mean getting to talk with our boy during the game three times.”
The ‘our boy’ shot right through Sammi Dan. “What do you mean by our?”
April glanced around then leaned in. “Gij did include me in his contract, so yes, he’s ours, except that he doesn’t love me, so I have no clue why he blessed me like he did. But I am along for the ride, or is that not okay anymore?”
“No, sorry, it’s…”
“It’s what?”
He had her doing it, starting to say something then letting her words trail off. “Well, this courting thing is rather frustrating.”
April shot her a knowing semi-smile, then touched the cross hanging around her neck. “I’d call it refreshing. Doesn’t it make you feel good knowing he puts you on such a high pedestal? If only my guy was more like him.”
“What? Are you having the same problem, but in reverse?”
She nodded.
“That Tyler guy?”
“Exactly, but like my mama always said, why would any man want to buy the cow if he’s getting the milk for free?”
“She did not really say that.”
“Yes, she sure did. Sent me out with a little remembrance every single time I went on a date. Definitely wore me out with it, but I got the message.”
“Did it work?”
“Most the time.”
“All my dad ever told me was to be home by midnight.” Movement pulled Sammi Dan’s eyes to the left. A beat writer headed up the hall.
“So are we in agreement? We’ll start with Johnson in between the second and third and go from there.”
Sammi Dan backed away a step and let the man get by. “Sure, but unless someone does something really outstanding, I can’t see why we’d want anyone else.”
Everything fell together like a perfect Denver omelet, but instead of Gij coming over for the first mid-game, his catcher showed. He grabbed the head phones from April, she held on.
“What are you doing, Carlos? We requested Johnson.”
He shrugged. “Can’t have him; it’s me or no one.”
Sammi Dan touched April’s hand, and she released the head set. “Okay, so why can’t we have him?”
The man adjusted the mouth piece. “We’re not about to let you ladies jinx his no-hitter.”
She leaned out. Gij sat by himself at the far end of the bench; his teammates gave him a wide berth. “He doesn’t believe in luck.”
“Well, we do, and if you messed him up, none of us will ever talk to either one of you two again.”
“Okay, fine.” She nodded toward Fox’s camera man. The red light came on. She did a canned intro then faced her stand-in. “Carlos, what happened with that first batter?”
“My fault, I wanted to start off with a change up. Good thing G.H. has fast hands.”
“I’d say so. If he hadn’t snagged that liner, it might have taken his head off.” She had wanted to ask Gij about that shot to his nose, not Corporan. “Ever caught anyone who throws as hard as Johnson?”
“No, ma’am. No one’s even been close.”
Somehow Sammi Dan fumbled around and asked the man a few semi-intelligent questions, then it was over, and he had to get his gear on. She faced April. “What are we going to do if he doesn’t give up a hit?”
CHAPTER
sixtEEN
One more out, and he’d have his no-hitter, but Gij had been there before. He walked off the mound, picked up the rosin bag, and bounced it on the back of his hand. “Well, old son, seems like this is where we left off last time.”
He turned around; the Cuban stared back at him, took a practice swing, then stepped into the batter’s box. The guy made the ump look like a school boy.
Gij toed the rubber and stared in. Carlos held down one sparkling white-tipped finger. Gij nodded then twisted back and flung one a hair outside. Nothing but air.
Strike one.
He loved it. Corporan wanted more heat, this time inside. Gij twisted back and let the old horsehide loose. The monster turned on it and yanked, but it sailed foul. Too close for comfort far as Gij was concerned.
Strike two.
Waste one high, his catcher told him in code, except it wasn’t too secret. If the batter peeked, he’d see Carlos in a high crouch. Gij hit the mitt like playing catch with his Pappaw, but no swing, ball one.
Okay, one and two.
He stared in. Was he seeing right?
His catcher wanted the deuce low, but in the zone? Well, the Cuban had caught up with his fastball, even got ahead of it. Why not? As much as Gij wanted to end the game on a whiff, he’d take an out anyway he could get it.
He flung a nice fat one. Man, why hadn’t he learned how to throw a knuckle ball that would buckle the guy’s knees for sure? The monster’s bat connected, and the white blur flew off the hickory stick.
Oh no.
Gij turned and looked to the sky. Still climbing, the ball headed for centerfield. His gaze came down to the deepest part of the park. Please Lord, let him catch it. Martin drifted back, and back some more, then to the wall. He crouched. Oh, Lord, put springs in his knees and wings on his feet.
The centerfielder jumped. The sky a good foot over the fence silhouetted his glove like a negative moon. The ball disappeared. Gij’s heart stopped. Thick breath caught in his throat.
Then Martin landed in slow motion. His feet hit the ground. The ungiving earth bent his knees. Then the magnificent Cuban held the little speck of white up into the air. Victory! His teeth shone white as that ball.
He’d caught it!
Gij gulped a breath.
Oh thank you, Lord. Your mercy endures forever.
Sammi Dan couldn’t believe her eyes. He caught it! Gij had his shutout and a no-hitter! She jumped up and down then grabbed April and hugged her, shouting for joy.
He’d done it! Just like he said!
>
A chill settled over her heart. What was the deal? How’d he know that he would blank the Giants? Did he have any idea it would be a no-no?
She shook off the questions. Her man was definitely a real phenom. Yessiree, that’s what he was, phenomenal. And he loved her. April said she could see it, and Sammi Dan sure felt loved, too. It could be true that he was her Fred.
Maybe no matter what happened, she’d always want Gij for the rest of her life, no matter what else came along—or who.
She and April followed the celebration into the clubhouse. First, she scored a few words with Carlos. Maybe he figured he owed her. But then Gij walked up, her own personal phenom.
“Wow, what a game, G.H.!” Sammi Dan did a quick little arm, hip, step-step dance. “What can I say? You were phenomenal! How’d those pitches feel?”
“I don’t know about the first or the last ones, but the hundred and ten in between I liked pretty well.”
She laughed. “I thought for a minute that line drive in the first might take your head off.”
“So did I.”
“Okay, so you’re on the mound with eight and two-thirds, and arguably, the best young hitter in the National League is up. What went through your mind, your thought process?”
“Well, Samantha, when he yanked that ball foul into the third deck, then wouldn’t fish on that high fast one—and seeing as how Pappaw never taught me to throw a knuckle ball—I decided to go with Carlos and give him the deuce.”
“Your straight change, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,”
“And what went through your head when you saw it come off the bat heading to deep center?”
“Couldn’t believe it. I was praying hard for Martin. Praise the Lord, my Cuban can catch better than their Cuban can hit.”
“And I’m certain all those Ranger fans out there are pretty happy about that as well, right folks? One more question, G. H. You’re sitting on twenty-nine straight innings of shutout ball, think you can break your great-uncle’s record?”
“Wow, is that right? Guess I’m over halfway. I’d definitely like that, but I’ll tell you for sure after I’ve pitched four more games.”
She faced the camera, gave her canned sign-off spiel, froze her smile until the light went out, then turned back to him and mouthed, you were right, Gij. I love you.
He tapped the tip of her nose with a finger and mouthed back, I love you, too.
Too much great food took care of the hunger beast. She loved that Gij let Martin pick the restaurant. Coupled with one too many ’ritas, Sammi Dan found herself in her own bed by her lonely self with nothing but a hotel pillow to cuddle.
It wasn’t fair.
She and Gij should be still celebrating his no-no. He’d only scheduled some running and a few light reps in the weight room for tomorrow.
A rude hand on her shoulder shook her awake. “Dill pickles, leave me alone.”
“No, no, no. Get up. You have got to see this. You’ve messed up big time, girlfriend.”
The urgency in her tone cleared the fog a little. “What is it? Got any coffee? I need coffee.” She propped herself up. “What’d I do?”
April handed her own steaming cup over then sat a laptop in front of Sammi Dan. “Go ahead. Hit play.”
She took a sip and clicked on the start triangle. A grainy video, obviously taken on a cheap cell phone recorded her after-the-game interview with Gij.
Closed caption scrolled across the bottom of the screen with exactly the words spoken – and mouthed so as not to be overheard—all the way to the end. She clicked again and it froze with his finger on her nose.
“What? You don’t want to hear all that Mitch Williams and the other boys sitting behind the MLB Tonight desk said?”
She groaned, fingered the curser back onto the triangle, and tapped the pad. “There’s more?”
The Wild Thang faced the camera dead on. “If you’ll remember, my sources in Texas told me Johnson had it in his contract that the no-name weather girl would be the only one who interviewed him on air. Apparently, now we all know why.”
The wide angle lens zoomed back and revealed Harold next to Mitch. “Well, the young lady certainly has a name now, doesn’t she? I’m no lip reader, but it sure appeared to me that Miss Davenport called the man Gij. Wasn’t that Wally Pip’s pet name for The Babe?”
“I believe you’re right, Harold.”
And finally the video was over. It gave Sammi Dan the option to delete, replay, or share. She made no choice, but folded the laptop closed. Messing up was an understatement, and now he was going to kill her.
April retrieved her computer. “I’m assuming you have no desire to view CNN, ESPN, and Fox’s take on your little faux pas. Nevermind Facebook, Twitter, and G+. Everyone is talking about your and Gij’s budding romance.”
“None of it could be any worse than that. I’m a dead girl walking—as fast as I can—to Gij’s room.”
“Actually, some of them are worse.”
Sammi Dan jumped out of bed, gulped the warm coffee, and headed for the shower. She had to see Gij, hopefully before he heard about any of it. If she hurried, she had a chance.
Faster than she could ever remember getting ready, she cleared her door and punched the elevator button, but only waited seconds before she practically ran up the two flights of stairs to his room.
She knocked, and he almost immediately opened the door looking ready to walk out. Not a good sign.
His stoic poker face cracked into a big wide grin. He knew. “Morning, Sweetheart.”
“Oh, Gij, I am so sorry.”
“Come on in, and don’t be.” He extended his hand and pulled her inside then wrapped her in his arms. One hand went to the back of her head, and he guided her face to his. She closed her eyes.
His lips touched hers, devoured her, and gently held her in his spell. Her knees went weak. What was happening? Who cared? His lips were on hers. He loved her, he really did. Nothing, no thing mattered in the world but his love.
She didn’t know how long it had lasted, only that it ended, and she didn’t want it to. Her head spun. She couldn’t breathe or speak or hear. Her legs wobbled. Was she literally going to fall?
Was that what people meant when they talked about falling for someone? She’d certainly never felt such a sensation before. Was it the difference between love and lust? Slowly, her senses returned.
She swallowed and looked into his eyes. “Why’d you… What about… Isn’t there… Your rule… Or something?”
He squeezed her tight once more—too quickly—then held her at arms’ length. “Now I’m the one who’s so sorry, except I’m not. I couldn’t help giving myself a little celebratory exemption for one kiss. Last night was the first time you dropped the maybe and said that you loved me.”
Her head wasn’t on right yet, but she tried a full sentence on. “So you aren’t mad?”
“No, maybe a little irritated when Mitch called me last night, but you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m too happy to be mad.”
She cleared her throat. “So I can call you Gij all the time now?”
“Might as well. Whatever.”
“How’s your arm this morning?” That sounded more normal, but all she wanted in the world was for him to kiss her again and forever.
“Great.” He rolled his shoulder. “No problem.”
“I, um, checked the probables last night.” Her legs finally felt as if they could walk, and she hurried to sit on the nearest chair. She swallowed and rubbed her forehead. Sure seemed real, but she might still be dreaming.
“And?”
“They’ve got you down again for the final game with Oakland. You’re going to let them pitch you again on three days’ rest?”
“Samantha Danielle, listen to me. In 1908, Ed Reulback pitched both ends of a doubleheader; the only guy to throw two complete game shutouts on the same day. Three days was the norm not too long ago. I’ll go on two if they need me.”
; “That’s crazy talk… I mean it… What have you got? A bionic arm?”
He grinned and shook his head.
“No, really. I’m serious. Do you?”
Her concern was totally attractive. Gij wanted to kiss her again, and that’s all he wanted. He should never have allowed himself. Stick with the plan, son. Stick with the plan.
“No, of course not. My arm has not been enhanced by man, you silly. Listen, if I don’t pitch in Oakland on Sunday then our travel day Monday will push me back to where I can’t get four more starts before the playoffs.”
He could see her wheels turning. She put her hands on her hips. “You’re talking the rest of the season, aren’t you? On short rests.”
“Exactly. Now come on. We’ve got shopping to do.”
“Oh, Gij, I don’t need anything else. I’m going to have to get another suitcase as it is.”
“Okay, we’ll go suitcase shopping, too. I promise you’ll have room for what I want to buy you today.” He held his hand toward her, and she took it. “Besides, I want to pick up Leonus and Carlos a little something special, and I’d like your help.”
“Aw, fun.”
He pulled her to her feet then headed to the door with her in tow. “And oh, by the way, how come you didn’t ask me anything about my hit in that interview?”
“Well, duh. If I bring up the double—which should have been a triple according to everyone—then I’d also have to mention your two strikeouts.”
“Think so?”
She smiled that big ol’ Texas smile that brightened his world. “How come you run so long in one place anyway?”
“Yeah, right. Give me a break.”
Just outside the clubhouse holding a big basket filled with ribboned gifts, Sammi Dan rolled her eyes at her camera girl. “Humor me. Just check your phone again, will you?”
April obliged then dropped her cell back into its outside pocket on her purse. “You’re right, straight up. We can go in now.”
