“Hey Sean, how’s Mason?” she asked, not glancing up from the textbook in her lap. She’d decided to take some summer term courses since she had no clue what the future held for her. I hadn’t said as much to her because I didn’t want her to think of me as a parent rather than her big brother, but I was proud of her for the way she picked herself up after a few days of sulking. She still wasn’t sure if she would keep the baby or put it up for adoption, but I had faith that she’d do what was best for both of them. She might not think so right now, but she was going to be just fine.
“He’s doing well, for the most part,” I told her, taking a seat next to her on the couch. I lifted the book to see what subject she was working on. Sociology in Urban High Schools. That was something I couldn’t help her with. It surprised me at first that she was taking such a specialized course, but it made sense when I thought about the people she hoped to help someday. “He’ll be out of it most of the day thanks to the pain pills they have him on, but the doctor said he should have a full recovery. If you want, why don’t you head upstairs and see him before he passes out?”
“Yeah, maybe I will,” she said, nose still buried in the text she was reading as she resumed gnawing on the end of a pen. “Are his parents staying here?”
“Yeah, they are.” I hoped that was okay with her. Even though it was my name on the deed, I wanted her to feel as though this was her home, too.
“Cool. I want to chat with Ginny.”
“Sounds good,” I told her when I realized her lack of attention was her attempt at dismissal. I wandered back upstairs and let Ginny know Abi wanted to talk to her before heading to check on Mason again. With him passed out and snoring in the recliner, I decided it was a good time to run to the store and get in a quick workout.
Chapter 23
I paced back and forth across the plush carpet in our bedroom, wearing nothing but my crisp blue button down shirt and boxers while I waited for my mom to finish pressing my dress slacks. I told her they looked fine, but she insisted that they needed to be perfect, at least when I walked out of the house. She was probably right, but having her dictating my attire did nothing for my demeanor.
I didn’t want to do this press conference. I didn’t want anyone to see the kaleidoscope of color on my face or the Frankenstein stitches at the corner of my mouth. The only thing I wanted to do was stay holed up at home, where baseball and everything else that had been bogging me down for months didn’t exist. And after having some time to think about everything, I realized that I’d been stressed most of the season, knowing that changes were coming but not wanting to admit how drastic they’d be.
“Hurry up, we have to get on the road, otherwise we’re both going to have our asses in a sling,” Sean grumbled as he threw my pants at me from the door. I looked up at him and he diverted his gaze quickly. It was cute to see how he blushed when he worried my parents would see him eyeing me. One of my missions in life was to make him see that not every family was like his, and they wouldn’t care. Hell, from what they’d told me, I was certain they’d be ecstatic as long as I was happy.
I smirked, as I looked him over as well. There was no way anyone, gay or straight, could deny what a gorgeous guy he was. His suit coat was tailored to perfection, broad across the shoulders and narrow at the waist. His dark blond hair had so much product in it that I’m pretty sure tornado strength winds couldn’t touch it, but in a way that didn’t make him look as though he was trying too hard. And those eyes…Jesus, they should be considered a lethal weapon with their translucence near the pupil and a ring of deep blue at the edge of the iris. I may have joked that he hit me so I’d be as ugly as him, but that’s only because there’s always been something about his looks that has drawn me to him, and it all started with those damn fuck-me eyes.
“Dude, are you going to stand there or finish getting ready?” he scolded when he caught me ogling him. I really needed to get my head where it needed to be, otherwise we’d be outed the second we walked into the ballpark if I couldn’t stop thinking about stripping that suit and tie off of him one piece at a time as soon as we got home.
“Give me five and I’ll be ready,” I told him as I slipped into my slacks.
The drive north to Milwaukee was brutal. Traffic wasn’t too bad, but it was apparent that something was bothering Sean. He glanced at me from time to time, shaking his head before returning his focus to the highway in front of him.
We pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of the stadium and Sean parked in “his” spot in the employee lot. Spaces weren’t assigned, but it was pretty well known in every club that you parked in your unofficial spot, whether anyone else would be there or not.
A few photographers and reporters were waiting outside the clubhouse, hoping to catch our arrival. I figured these were either less than reputable publications or amateur newshounds who weren’t allowed into the official press conference. If the teams didn’t trust them to come inside, neither did I.
Sensing my discomfort, Sean moved to my left, shielding the sight of my mangled face from the cameras. The one demand I had made when this was set up was there would be no photography allowed. It would be embarrassing enough letting so many people see my injuries, I didn’t want them documented and swirling around online within minutes.
“Just keep your head down, we’re almost there and Ike’s waiting at the door,” Sean mumbled, barely moving his lips. I glanced up without lifting my head and saw that Ike was indeed holding the door open.
“Atley…Tucker…good to see you boys,” Ike greeted us as soon as we were close. “Hurry and get in here. Sean, Coach Martinez and I need to have a chat with Mason before the press conference starts, and I know Coach Ackerman wanted to touch base with you as well.”
“Yes, sir,” Sean responded. He nodded to me before heading off in the opposite direction from where Ike was leading me. Even though I knew this was standard, for management to make sure there weren’t going to be any gaffs in front of the cameras, it felt as though they were purposely putting distance between the two of us. That put me on edge more than anything else.
“How’re you feeling, son?” I hated it when he called me that. Ike liked to think of himself as some sort of surrogate father to the players, which meant he wasn’t the best-liked man on the team. He had a habit of sticking his nose where it didn’t belong and a lot of the guys, myself included, resented his paternal persona.
“Other than taking a ball in the face, I can’t complain.” Our footsteps echoed through the empty concrete hallways of the club. I used to love that sound, loved the mystique of walking through the darkness, but today that affection was conspicuously absent. For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to be at the park.
“Good, good.” He patted me on the back, gently guiding me down another empty hall. There was a single beam of light shining from an office at the opposite end and figured that was our destination. “Then I’ll assume you will be heading back with us after the press conference is over.”
“Sir?” I figured this was coming, but I had no intention of heading back. We both knew the score, so to speak, and I was the loser. It would have taken one hell of an outing for them to renew my contract after the subpar year I’d had, and I failed to deliver.
Ike stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned to face me. “Mason, you need to come back to Chicago so the team-approved doctors can treat you. They’ll make sure you get the care you need to get back to the game as soon as possible.”
“And you think I can’t get that up here?” I snapped. “With all due respect, I think we both know my career in Chicago is DOA. Keeping that in mind, I need to do what’s best for my physical and mental well-being, and my home is here now. With all of that in mind, I think it’s better if I keep seeing the doctors at the clinic in Milwaukee.”
“Kid, you always were a stubborn one,” Ike chided, shaking his head. “Nothing has been decided with your contract, because the team wants to discuss your
prognosis with our doctors not the attending physicians at a hospital none of us know anything about.”
We started walking down the hall again, and I swear Ike’s nostrils flared with annoyance.
“A lot of people have invested time and money into you,” he criticized. “You’d do well to remember that before you make a final decision. The office is doing everything in their power to make sure you’re not cut because of an injury, but if you’re not willing to play by the rules, I’m not sure what anyone can do to help you.”
As we stepped into a stark white office with only a table and four chairs in the center of the room, I knew exactly what I could do to help myself.
The press conference was much as we’d been told it would be. The media was fascinated by Mason’s injury and the potential implications of ‘the incident’ on our friendship off the field. You’d think they’d have had more pressing matters, like the teams who were in the race for the pennant, but nope, they were salivating at the chance to get their hands on a juicy human-interest story.
It wasn’t until nearly twenty minutes in that things got exciting. I had pretty much zoned out once the reporters got tired of talking to me, and almost missed Mason dropping a bomb into the room.
“While I have you all here, I have an announcement to make.” Mason squared his shoulders and straightened his tie before continuing. I gave him a look that I’m pretty sure said ‘What in the hell are you doing?’ and he mouthed the words ‘Watch this’ in return.
Oh hell, what is he doing? More than once over the past twenty four hours I had wondered if everything that’d happened since the start of spring training was going to give Mason a nervous breakdown, and I had to fight the urge to lunge at him, knocking him off the dais to create a distraction. ‘Watch this’ had always been Mason speak for ‘There will be fireworks’ and usually wound up with him on someone’s shit list.
“In light of my current injuries, as well as other personal issues I’m dealing with, I have decided that this season will be my last,” he said calmly. Audible gasps and hushed whispers filtered through the room. Ike and Coach Martinez were somewhere between utterly shocked and completely pissed, and I realized that this was the first they were hearing of his decision. Hell, it was the first I’d heard it, and I was tempted to strangle him for it.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I believe that’s all the time we have for today,” the Bulldogs’ press manager said, although I doubted anyone heard her over the reporters shouting their questions toward Mason. I could have kissed her for realizing that the scene was about to get out of hand and it wouldn’t be anything good.
Despite Rebecca’s proclamation that the time for questions had passed, one woman near the back of the room stood and dropped a second bomb on the already shocked room. “Mason, does your decision to retire have anything to do with your relationship with Sean Tucker?”
“That will be all!” Rebecca spat out, motioning for security to escort the offending so-called reporter out of the room.
Even with a burly security guard holding either arm, it was clear the reporter was determined to finish her question. “Is it true that Teresa Atley signed divorce papers because the two of you were having an affair?”
Once we walked out of the room, I pulled Mason aside before Ike could reach him. “What in God’s name was that little stunt? How could you do something like this without talking to me first?” I growled. “And how in the hell does she know about us?”
“I didn’t know for sure that I was going to do it until about twenty minutes ago,” he informed me with a casual shrug. He swallowed hard and looked like he was about to puke all over the floor. “I’d been thinking about it for a while, but some shit Ike said to me made the decision easier. And as for the other, I have no clue, but I won’t deny it if I’m asked again. I can’t, Sean.”
He reached out to me and I jerked away. I was so pissed, I couldn’t imagine being in the same room as him for fear I’d say something I couldn’t take back. I’d managed to keep my sexuality a secret for years, and all it took was one minute and a bitter ex-wife to put the final nail in the coffin of my career. Of course, it was easier for Mason, he’d just announced he wasn’t going to play anymore, so it wouldn’t matter to him if people didn’t want him in the locker room with them.
“Atley, get your ass back to the office. Now!” Coach Martinez’s face was beet red and the vein near his temple was bulged and throbbing.
“I’m going to get a workout in while you’re getting your ass handed to you,” I told him. “We’ll talk about this later.” Mason called out to me as I walked away from him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other than wave at him over my shoulder.
I pulled my phone of my pocket and saw that I already had five missed calls. Two were from a couple of my teammates and the other three were from Mason’s dad. The guys could call me all they wanted and I wouldn’t give them any information, but I figured Mr. Atley wouldn’t take too well to being ignored. Since Mason couldn’t exactly ask Coach and Ike to hold on while he took a call, I ducked out a side door to make the call.
“Sean, it’s Bill.” I laughed, wondering who he thought I expected to answer his phone. “Did you know he was going to do that?”
“No, sir. I was just as surprised as everyone else,” I admitted. Mason’s mom was in the background telling Mr. Atley to ask me questions for her, but I couldn’t make out what she wanted to know, not that I had any answers right now. “He’s in with Coach Martinez right now. I won’t know anything else until he’s done, and then he’ll be able to talk to you himself.”
There was a long pause on the line. “And how are you holding up, son?”
“About as well as you’d expect,” I admitted to him. My call waiting kicked in and I saw that it was my father calling me. I knew what he’d have to say about all of this, and didn’t know if I’d ever be ready to hear it, so I ignored the call. “I wish I knew how that woman knew…”
“Well, if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say someone probably overheard something Teresa said and twisted it to fit what they thought would make a good story,” Bill offered. “Look, I know you’re trying to process everything right now, but don’t throw away what you and Mason have. Both of you need to face whatever comes at you there, but you need to do it together. Show everyone that you’re not willing to give up on baseball or each other because of this.”
It seemed so simple to hear him offer the unsolicited advice and I wished it’d be that easy to listen to him. I saw Angel and Rebecca storming down the hall toward me. “Bill, I have a feeling I’m about to have a really uncomfortable conversation of my own. One of us will call you when we’re done. In the meantime, don’t answer the home phone or the door. And if Abi hasn’t already heard, please let her know and keep an eye on her.”
“You don’t have to ask,” Bill assured me. “The two of you are family to us. We’ll do everything we can to help you through this.”
“Angel, Rebecca,” I greeted them as I walked toward their way. “Safe to assume you’d like me to follow you?”
“Yeah, let’s go,” Angel growled. I felt smaller than I had in my entire life. “Boy, your only saving grace is that Mason stepped in it deeper than you did today.”
I noticed that he didn’t question whether she’d been telling him the truth. He knew. Everyone knew. Those who hadn’t would be able to connect the dots and see what they’d been ignoring. “I know, sir.”
“So what do you plan to do?” Rebecca asked.
I didn’t hesitate before answering. “I won’t deny it,” I said with conviction. “I’ll understand if that’s going to create too much hassle for the team to deal with, or if they think it’s for the best if I’m no longer a Maverick, but I won’t turn my back on him.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” I tripped over my feet. Rebecca turned when she heard me stumble, a wicked grin on her face. She motioned for Angel to head to the office so we could talk privately. “Loo
k, I can’t speak for Angel, Coach, or anyone else, but I’m proud of you. It takes courage to face something like this head-on, and it’ll send a message to future players that they don’t have to hide. We’ll get through this meeting and I’ll start putting together an official statement from the team.”
“Okay.” It meant the world to me that I had at least one person from the organization in my corner. Lord knew I was going to need it once Coach got his hands on me. “This is what you do, so I’ll trust you.”
Chapter 24
“What in the ever livin’ hell was that stunt you pulled out there?” Coach’s southern drawl was more pronounced than I’d ever heard it, and I figured it was only a matter of time before he started throwing furniture across the room. We’d joked after bad games that you knew how pissed Coach was by how thick the accent he studiously tried to hide was, but it wasn’t far from the truth. The way I figured it, he was about thirty seconds from going Incredible Hulk on my sorry ass. And now that the heat of the moment had passed, I knew I had it coming. Coach had never been anything but good to me, and he deserved to know about my decision before the rest of the world.
“Sir, I’m sorry I didn’t inform you before the press conference,” I apologized, wringing my fingers under the table. “It wasn’t done to intentionally keep the news from you, but as we were walking into that press room, I realized that it’s time for me to hang it up.”
“And you figured you blurting it out like that was the best plan of action?” he seethed. “You know, I’m seriously questioning the qualifications of the doctors up here. It’s apparent to me, a dumb jock, that you have a pretty serious head injury if you’re willing to throw away your career because of one injury.”
“Sir, with all due respect, it’s not about whether or not I’m able to make a full recovery,” I told him. I didn’t bother to tell him that I’d changed my bandage this morning after taking a shower and still have problems with my vision in my left eye. It might be correctable with glasses, but I highly doubt it’ll ever be what it was, no matter what the doctors say.
Wild Pitch Page 21
