League of Her Own

by Faith O'Shea

  He slipped out the side door, after coding in the alarm and walked over to the car that was idling in the drive-way.

  Once inside, he turned to Izabella and asked, “Where are the kids and Hoover?”

  “Reid took them to Melinda’s while you were showering.”

  Reid almost growled, “I could have dropped them in New York and been back before you got out. What the hell is your problem?”

  “Nothing.” As Reid glided down the drive toward the street, he asked his sister as nonchalantly as he could, “Have you heard from Fifi?”

  “This morning. Why?”

  “I was just wondering if she still had that interview on Friday.”

  “Why wouldn’t she? And if you want to know, why don’t you ask her?”

  She hadn’t returned any of the texts he’d sent since she left. He’d gotten the message.

  When he didn’t answer immediately, Reid glanced over and asked, “Something going on there?”

  “I like her.”

  “Is that why you’re acting strange?”

  “Strange how?”

  “I haven’t had to lecture you once. You seem more than content to hang out with the kids, me, or Izabella. You’re even taking Hoover for walks.”

  “Fifi’s fault. She spoiled your dog. She sits and stares at me until I can’t stand it anymore and give in.”

  “You’re blaming Fifi?”

  Izabella leaned forward and smacked her husband on the shoulder. “Her name is Fiona.”

  Reid had jerked forward, surprised by the move, before amending, “You’re blaming Fiona for your lack of assertiveness with Hoover?”

  He was blaming Fifi for everything wrong in his life right now. His lack of assertiveness was just the tip of the iceberg.

  Izabella offered, “I think the old girl misses her.”

  Hoover wasn’t the only one. Maybe that’s why he relented and braved the frigid air. It took his mind off the loneliness. He just had to make it through one more day. He’d be home tomorrow, and things would get back to normal. He was counting on it.

  Izabella’s phone had rung and as soon as she ended the call, she said, “The keys are yours whenever you want them.”

  His application had been accepted and he’d already dropped the check off for the first and last month’s rent plus security deposit. When he had, Izabella had given him a warning. Melinda had given him a glowing recommendation and she didn’t want it to come back and bite her. Like he even had the energy to call people, never mind host a party. He just wasn’t feeling it.

  “When do you want to swing by and sign the lease?”

  “I can do everything before I leave for the airport.”

  “What flight you taking out?”

  “United 537 out of Logan. It arrives in Rio at ten-fifteen tomorrow morning.”

  “How many stops?”

  “One. Texas.”

  “I still can’t believe you’re going down for less than two days. You’ll be spending more time on the plane than at Papi’s.”

  “The plan was to go for longer, but I’ve made the commitment to be here now. I want to keep up the regimen Leo started.”

  Reid glanced over at him again and just shook his head. He didn’t have to say anything. He knew what his brother-in-law was thinking. It was one of two things. At last or where have you hidden my brother-in-law?

  The church where the funeral was being held was packed with managers from other teams or some representative who’d been handed the task, every member of the current Greenliners, many retired players who’d come to pay their respects. It was long and boring, and he couldn’t keep his mind on the litany, the hymns, or the speakers. It kept drifting….

  “Rique. Move.”

  His sister was prodding him to get up and move out of the pew. They were at a mid-way point in the church and he hadn’t even noticed the mourners had gotten up to file out. He rose and walked slowly toward the exit.

  As he waited in the lobby of the restaurant where the mercy meal was being held, he fingered inside the tight collar, readjusted the tie. The posh eatery in Brighton was filling up quickly. For as much as he’d had enough of the dead and dying over the last two days, attendance was mandatory, and he knew Seb and Mattie would be here soon. They’d sat in the same pew with him, and he could have left with them if he’d wanted, but he was on automatic pilot and mindlessly stayed with the family he came with. Now, he wished he had been more awake. He preferred being with them. They wouldn’t ask questions or give him worried looks.

  He’d seen Seb’s car in the mirror on his visor, which he’d pulled down to mute the gaze of the morning sun. Reid had kept the speed limits and his friends weren’t far behind. He stepped out to the parking lot, on the lookout for the dark blue BMW. Nothing. A lot of the players had arrived and passed him by, most of them as couples. It was a stark reminder that he was alone. He’d never thought to ask Fifi to stick around, come with him. Not that she’d given him the chance. He still couldn’t believe she’d just up and left, without even a goodbye. He’d wanted a more personal one, a kiss maybe. Or another round of lovemaking. His heart thundered, thoughts of her like a hammer on nails in his chest. He didn’t know he could miss someone this much. Never had before. Sure, his family. He missed his mother, father, his sisters but not to the point it made him nauseous. He had to keep looking ahead, not behind, to the woman out there waiting for him to claim her. He’d once been able to see her so clearly. Now she was a blur, out of focus.

  So wrapped in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Reid had come out looking for him.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  Rique shoved his hands in his pockets. “Waiting for the others.”

  “Your sister’s worried. Come in and join us.”

  Rique looked around one more time and gave up rubber necking for his friends, still fixated on their arrival. There were people inside he could talk to. He knew everyone by now, the whole team, staff, coaches. He’d played against most when he’d worn the Mets uniform. They were all a bit more jocular now that he was on their side.

  The entrance was choked by mourners, the bottle neck creating a funnel as they filed into the restaurant and he elbowed his way through, keeping Reid in his line of sight. The conversation was less somber than it had been, but the tones were still hushed in reverence. The entire first floor of the funeral home had been used as a viewing area, so it never seemed crammed. There, he’d been with Mattie and Seb and they milled and chatted, with no lack of air. Here, even though the number of attendees was the same, the space seemed inadequate to accommodate everyone. The tables and chairs were close together, leaving little room to navigate. When Mac walked in, with his wife, Galen, all heads had turned, and he was no exception. He’d gotten his first glimpse of the blonde woman when they’d arrived at the funeral home. Casey and, whom he assumed was her fiancé, was with them. She looked uneasy, as though she didn’t like being in the spotlight. Rique had begun to dissect her traits and features to see who she most resembled. She got her height from her dad, and most of her features, but her eyes were definitely inherited from her maternal side. So were her grace and sense of style. He was looking at them through Fifi’s eyes, and he had the urge to call… But he wouldn’t. He knew where he stood. She’d run off to Maine, hadn’t answered any of his texts and he had to face the fact that she was done with him. Not that he could blame her. But she’d left something of herself behind. She’d helped him see the world in a different way than he had before. And he never wanted to go back to the days when he was the sole attraction in his mind.

  When Seb and Mattie finally got there, he signaled to them and they wove themselves through the crowd until they reached him.

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  Mattie said, “He got cold feet.”

  He’d whispered it loudly. Rique didn’t understand the reticence.

  “About the meal?”

  Mattie nodded in the Caliparis’ direc
tion. “About seeing Casey again.”

  When Seb vehemently denied it, he surmised the truth.

  “I couldn’t care less if she’s here or not.”

  Mattie gave a smirk as if to contradict the statement. “He doesn’t seem to like the guy she’s marrying either. Said he looked like a true millennial. Whatever that means.”

  It wasn’t a compliment.

  Rique gave him an insight into the meaning of the word. “They’ve been described as egotistical, lazy and spoiled.”

  His jaw dropped open. He’d just described himself, or rather how others saw him anyway. But he wasn’t lazy. Not anymore. And he’d dropped the egotistical aspect over the past week. He might still be categorized as spoiled, but he’d refer all questions back to one and two.

  Seb said through clenched teeth, “Look at the suit the guy has on. I bet it costs a thousand bucks. Thinks of himself much? What will he have left to give Case?”

  Rique glanced over at Mattie, then they both stared at Seb. It seemed he hadn’t gotten over the girl from his past, or maybe he was looking at her now as the woman she’d become.

  Seb began to move toward the last table against the wall. “Let’s sit back there.”

  “Better vantage point?”

  “No, I don’t want to be eyeballed by her father.”

  Rique patted him on the back. “He hasn’t even glanced in our direction.”

  “Or so you think. The man has eyes where his ears are, and another pair hiding under his hair.”

  Mattie asked, “Are you always this paranoid?”

  Reid interrupted before Seb could issue a not guilty plea.

  “Mind if we sit with you?”

  Reid and Isabella were standing with Jason Motts and his wife Nancy.

  Mattie said, “Please. It would be good.”

  When they took their seats, the threesome finally sat as well.

  Rique looked at Reid. “I would have thought you’d want to sit with your friends.”

  “Maybe I wanted to make new ones.”

  Rique’s eyes narrowed, believing it was for another reason entirely. “I’m not going to drink.”

  Reid leaned in and poured water from the pitcher into everyone’s glass.

  “I’m beginning to believe you.”

  Reid and Jason started talking about spring training, giving the new players some insight into what would happen and what they’d need to do to get a permanent spot on the roster. Both pitcher and catcher would be leaving before the others, having to report on an earlier date than the rest of the team.

  Motts admitted, “Verducci’s going to be my main competitor.”

  Reid took a sip of his water. “He’s good, but so are you.”

  “Mac told me that he wasn’t assigning a catcher to any one pitcher. I think our days of playing catch might be over.”

  “He pretty much told me the same thing. I didn’t think it was worth arguing over but if it comes to that, I will.”

  “What’s the buzz about Buzzley?”

  Rique glanced over to see where he was sitting but noticed he wasn’t. He was all alone at the bar. He rose and asked, “Would you mind if I bring him over to sit with us?”

  There was a vacant chair and he didn’t want anyone to feel left out.

  Reid glanced in the direction of Rique’s nod. “No. Good catch.”

  A month ago, he wouldn’t have noticed.

  When Rique approached the pitcher, who most likely would be their closer if things worked out, he introduced himself.

  Buzz extended his hand in what appeared to be gratitude.

  “There’s an empty seat. Want it?”

  “Yeah. Appreciate it. Standing at a bar is probably not my best option.”

  After the introductions were made at the table, Rique lifted his water glass and tapped it against Buzz’s. “It’ll be nice having someone to not drink with.”

  “You a member of Bill?”

  Rique pondered what that implied. Reid came to his aid. “It’s AA.”

  Buzz explained further, “Alcoholics Anonymous.”

  “No. I’ve got partying down to a science and I’m abstaining for the foreseeable future.”

  As soon as he mentioned the word science, Fifi came back in dazzling display. He still had the thong he’d stolen from her and he was keeping it as a…not trophy, even though bedding her had been a prize he hadn’t expected, but as a reminder of how much the time with her had meant to him. He quieted during the meal, as conversation buzzed around him. Izabella, who was sitting on his left, leaned in and asked, “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  He peered at her, her expression one of concern. He couldn’t tell her the truth.

  “Just thinking about getting home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Looking at her reflection in her bedroom mirror, Fiona turned from one side to the other, taking in the new ginger-colored cashmere suit she’d picked up in Portland. She’d walked around the business district the day before and was drawn into a boutique while window-shopping. She wasn’t a clothes horse by any means and the business clothes she had were outdated and dull. She wanted something new, something that gave her confidence, made her look the part of successful scientist. This had done it and she smiled at her newfound daring. She’d clipped her hair back so it wouldn’t be a nuisance, had on a pair of gold hoop earrings her parents had gotten her one Christmas that she rarely wore, and a new pair of ankle boots. She almost didn’t recognize herself. In the lab it was jeans and leggings, comfort clothes, with a white lab coat worn over them. But to get there, she had to look the part.

  The drive to Boston seemed short in comparison to her earlier drive home from Portland. It hadn’t given her the time she needed to relax, and her nerves were buzzing. She needed this job, needed an outlet for her misplaced passion for Rique.

  This is not the time to be thinking about him.

  She straightened her suitcoat and slung her purse and briefcase over her shoulder. She made her way across the parking lot to the building that housed the vacant lab and the office of Dr. Michaels, the man she was meeting with. When she got to the door, she took a deep breath and knocked. A female voice echoed out to the hallway, telling her to come in. A woman stood at her desk to greet her.

  “You must be Dr. Barrows. Please have a seat. The president is just finishing up a phone call. He’ll be with you in a moment.”

  She did as directed, looking around the space. Papers were everywhere, file folders stacked in a neat pile in the tray, and she wondered if her file was among them.

  Without giving her time to think more about it, Kurtis Michaels came out to greet her. He was mid-forties, tall and lean, with a closely cropped beard and moustache. His smile was warm as he welcomed her in.

  “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. So young, yet so accomplished.”

  She forced a casual stride into the room, instead of scooting past him like a scared juvenile.

  “I hope you don’t hold the young part against me.”

  “I wouldn’t dare. Some votes went against me when I was up for this position, for just that reason. I say we have more energy to give to the job, and more enthusiasm. We haven’t been jaded yet by repetition and failure.”

  “I hate to admit it, but the field I’m in you can expect a lot of that.”

  “But if successful, the benefits will have been well worth it.”

  “I agree.”

  He nodded to the seat opposite the desk and she sat as directed. She crossed her ankles, kept her hands in her lap, waiting to hear what he had to say. Her nerves weren’t so easily controlled.

  “I’ve skimmed through your dissertation and would very much like to offer you the vacant lab to see if you can pick up where you left off. There are a lot of different ways you can go with it and I’m interested to hear the direction you’ve chosen.”

  Her heart began to race. Had he
just offered her the position?

  Calm down. Breathe.

  She gave him the detailed outline that she’d worked on in Maine. It was concise, articulate, and she was pleased that she’d remembered it point by point. Michaels nodded as she went, asked questions when he needed clarification. When she was finished, he had a grin on his face.

  “Exactly what I’d hoped. Now for the last part of the agreement. You’ll be teaching a minimum of two classes in genetics each semester. You’d be expected to begin this summer. It might give you time to get your feet wet as a professor.”

  Her breath froze in fear. She’d never considered this, although she should have. The university was willing to invest a lot of money, time, and effort into her research. This was payback. Her mother taught at the school where her lab was based. It was a matter of course. Could she do it? She’d be drained, certainly but most classes lasted an hour or hour and a half tops. She could hold up for that long. As long as she had some free time to get a breath of fresh air, find a place to recharge she should be fine. A professorship at twenty-five. A flicker of pride puffed her chest.

  “What types of courses did you have in mind?”

  “Upper-class biology. Structure and function of genes, genetic methods, analysis of protein function, gene regulation, and inherited diseases. We’ve recently lost one of our science professors to retirement and your resume dovetails nicely with what we need. It will also give you a plethora to choose from as far as assistants go. You might even consider mentoring a doctoral candidate. We’d love to increase our presence with post-graduate work among the college community. You’ll be the linchpin.”

  “Could you provide me with the syllabi for what’s gone before?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll have Jenny put them together for you before you leave. Are you willing to sign a contract with us?”

  “Is this a formal offer?”

  “It is.”

  He went over what the school was willing to spend on the initial start-up and it was more than generous. There wasn’t a need for negotiation, although a lawyer might have disagreed with her.