Then again, the lady did want to be a sports agent. Max would counsel Jon to just place the damn call.
Jon touched the button for Brooke’s phone number. Brooke picked up on the first ring and let out a string of expletives at him.
“Whoa!” Jon held the phone at arm’s length. “There’s a kid nearby.”
“Yeah?” Brooke said, “Well, listen to this, Farell. The Captains are announcing a trade deal with you tomorrow afternoon.”
A trade? He staggered backward a step.
Another guy came into the restroom, wheeling luggage behind him, but Jon couldn’t move and the guy just drove around him and set up at a urinal.
Jon covered the phone. “Go,” he said to Brandon. “Go back to your aunt and tell her I’ll be out in a minute.”
Jon went into the big, handicapped stall and shut the door. He planted his feet and tried not to touch anything except for his phone. “What can we do to stop this thing, Brooke?”
“Stop it? You’re not listening to me, Jon. You need to be preparing for a press conference, especially in response to the whole drinking-in-the-clubhouse mess. Vivian wants you gone.”
He let that word sink in, the dread pooling in him, weighting him down. “I can’t believe I failed,” he murmured.
“Actually, you succeeded. San Francisco likes the video we leaked of your changeup pitch. They believe you’re serious, and they feel that you’re underrated technically. They also think that Vivian is an idiot who isn’t going to be winning championships by letting people like you go.
“My suggestion, Jon, is that you suck it up, take the deal and make yourself into San Francisco’s top ace. Then, next season, throw strikes and win ball games like you have a limitless supply of win in you. I want you to personally make sure you kick New England’s ass every time you face them in regular season. And that’s a direct quote from Max.”
“Did you say San Francisco?” Jon asked. That was three thousand miles from Boston. “A six-hour flight.”
“No crying in baseball, Jon.”
He wasn’t crying, he—
The door opened, and Brandon stared up at him. Jon covered the phone. “Hey, buddy, can I get some privacy, please?”
The kid didn’t budge.
Jon spoke into the phone. “Is there anything else? Because I’m in an airport bathroom here.” Guys were hurrying in by droves—another flight must have deplaned. “Brooke, I’ve got to sign off.”
“Just remember that I got you a heads-up,” Brooke said. “Most players in your shoes find out they’re traded when they’re sitting on their couches with their girlfriends in their underwear, listening to SportsCenter.”
“Thanks,” he said grimly. “How much time do I have?”
“Twenty-four hours until the news goes live. And then it’s done. You are out of Boston for good.”
* * *
WHEN JON CAME out of the bathroom, Elizabeth knew immediately that something was wrong. His face was gray. His bag was skewed over his shoulder and his hair was messed up, like he’d been raking his hands through it.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Let’s get out of here.” Jon looked left and right, and then clasped her elbow with one hand and Brandon’s palm with his other. “I need to talk to you when we get home.”
“My home or your home?”
“I hadn’t thought about that,” Jon muttered. “Shit.”
“You’re welcome to stay at my house.” Elizabeth hurried to keep up with him, her suitcase wheels clattering behind her. He was herding them out of the airport like he was race-walking them.
“Fine,” Jon murmured absently. His mind seemed a million miles away.
Elizabeth didn’t push him as he rushed them out of the airport terminal and into the central parking garage where he opened his SUV with a beep from his ignition key. It was cold outside compared to Arizona. She lowered her chin inside the collar of her meager jacket and shivered.
“Get in,” Jon said curtly to Brandon. “Buckle up.”
This wasn’t like Jon. Now she was in full panic mode.
But whatever had happened, now that they were home from his father’s wedding, Jon was completely withdrawing again. She could feel that unmistakable message, and it hurt.
She was silent while he drove them to her house using the best and worst of his Boston city driving skills. Brandon, looking drowsy, lounged in the backseat. Now was not the time for her to initiate a conversation with Jon.
Fifteen minutes later, he wheeled the SUV into the second of Elizabeth’s two condo spaces. He got out, popped the rear hatchback and helped Brandon jump down, too. Jon lifted out her suitcase, and she waited for him to remove his bag, but no, Jon shut the hatchback, leaving his things inside.
Her heart stopped in her throat.
“Brandon,” Jon said, “take your aunt’s key and go upstairs. She’ll meet you in a minute.”
“You aren’t going to watch me pitch today?” Brandon asked.
“No, buddy, I can’t.” He knelt to Brandon’s level. “Why don’t you get ready for your mom’s homecoming? When I’m finished down here with your aunt, she’ll meet you upstairs. I’m sure she wants to spend the last hours before your mom comes home with just you alone.”
Brandon hurled himself into Jon’s arms. He squeezed him tightly around the waist. “I love you, Jon. Don’t leave yet.”
Elizabeth put her hand to her mouth. Tears stung at her eyelids. What was Jon doing?
He set Brandon down and brushed his hair off his face. “I love you, too,” Jon murmured to her nephew.
Obviously he was capable of saying the words I love you, just not to her. Elizabeth pulled her coat tighter around her.
Miserable, she waited. Jon watched silently as Brandon headed for the building. They waited until the door snapped shut behind the boy.
There seemed to be a long, horrible silence. Elizabeth didn’t dare to meet Jon’s eyes. Whatever he was going to say, she wasn’t going to like it.
“Lizzy,” Jon said quietly. She pressed her lips together and gazed up at him. He had taken off his sunglasses, and his beautiful blue eyes regarded her, looking haunted.
They were out in the open, a windy, cloudy early-November day. Anybody could see them. Rusty red colors were past peak in the oak leaves, and yellows from the birch leaves littered the ground. A few autumn pumpkins were still scattered about. It was a picture-perfect New England autumn setting. And a picture-perfect hero, with his windblown hair, his preppy New England clothes and his leading-man good looks.
“I’ve loved you, Lizzy,” Jon said quietly.
Why was he saying this in the past tense?
“I’ve loved you like I’ve never loved any other woman.” He swallowed. “But the truth of the matter is, I never thought you would stay. Maybe I was drawn to you because I thought you ran away from people like me. That you preferred to be alone.”
This was how he felt? Yes, he had said that he loved her. But there were other, messy things. Things she hadn’t realized.
“The truth of the matter is,” he said, gazing directly at her, “I need to focus on baseball.” His Adam’s apple moved up and down.
“Are you breaking up with me?” she whispered.
He exhaled sharply, as if it hurt him to do what he was doing to her. And it should hurt him.
“Why?” she asked. “Tell me, I need to know.”
His gaze shot to hers. “Because I’m getting traded.”
“By the Captains? How can they even do that?”
“They can do whatever they want with me. I’m a commodity,” he said bitterly, “and I’m sorry I have to leave you to break the news to Brandon, but I trust you’ll know best how to do it. The official announcement is tomorrow afternoon. It’ll be all over the media.” Jon closed his mouth and looked in the distance again.
“Is this because of the drinking thing?” she asked, her voice sounding small.
His jaw set. “That’s n
inety percent of it.”
“What...what can I do?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “It’s done. I’m lucky I got a day’s heads-up so I can make plans.”
“Why...can’t we make it work, regardless of what the Captains do to you?”
He stared at the ground. “They traded me to California, Lizzy. I’ll have to move out there. My spring training is in Arizona. I’ll have no break until next October. November if we make the playoffs. That gives me only a few weeks a year that I could give to anyone located here in Boston.” He looked at her. “That’s not right for you. You’d only end up leaving me.”
“How do you know what’s right for me?” she demanded. “How do you know I’d leave?”
“Are you willing to leave Boston? Your job? Your sister? Brandon? Everything you’ve built here and worked for your whole life?”
She blinked. The tears were brimming now. In a perfect world, yes, she could leave Boston. But it wasn’t a perfect world. She had obligations. She had dreams and desires. Responsibilities.
And fears.
Choking, she flung her arms around Jon’s neck. She couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand to let him go. She was sobbing now, into his chest. His arms tightened around her. She heard him softly swear, a long string of bitter curse words. His mouth was in her hair and he was kissing her.
“I’m sorry,” she cried. “We’ll find a way around it.”
“I don’t expect you to adapt for me,” he said fiercely. “I don’t want you to. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
He squeezed her tighter. “Look, it’s for the best. Have you ever gone on the internet and seen the gossip sites that track baseball players’ girlfriends and wives? It’s a harsh reality.”
“I don’t care!”
Maybe she was imagining it, but his eyes seemed wet. “I’m telling you the truth. I’m not...bullshitting you, Lizzy.”
“The highest compliment.”
His hands clenched into fists. “Please don’t ask me to give up baseball. It’s the only place I know I own.”
“Jon—”
“Just don’t...ask me that.”
What could she say after that? In the end, she peeled her hands off his chest and stood woodenly as he kissed her palms and then walked her to the front door of her condo building.
Only when the elevator door slid shut between them did he leave her.
When she got to her apartment, she looked out the window. Jon was sitting in the driver seat of his SUV. But it wasn’t moving. She waited, curtain in her hand. He seemed to be in a state of indecision. She held her breath. Would he change his mind?
Finally, he drove off.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ELIZABETH’S NOSE WAS still red and her eyes damp when she answered the knock on her door to find Ashley standing in her hallway. Before Elizabeth could react, her sister reached out and hugged Elizabeth as hard as she could. “Lisbeth!”
Stunned, Elizabeth hugged her back, feeling the strength in Ashley’s arms. Her sister seemed healthier and not as thin as before. Elizabeth pulled back and stared at her, speechless.
“Thank you for watching my boy.” Ashley gave her a grateful smile. “Can I take him home now?”
“We...had something planned for you tonight.” Fresh tears pooled in Elizabeth’s eyes. Jon had left her. She blinked quickly, hoping Ashley didn’t notice. “We were a-all going to take you to dinner. A p-party. But you’re early.”
“I’m so glad to be here.” Ashley gave her a wide-eyed smile. “As it turned out, Sharma came to the therapy sessions with Mom and me. She was so helpful that my counselor thought she should be my sponsor, so he allowed her to process me out tonight. She’s downstairs waiting in the car. I thought I’d surprise you.”
“So...that’s it? You’re here to collect Brandon now?”
Ashley hesitated. “Is he doing okay?”
“He’s fine, he’s—”
Brandon ran past Elizabeth and leaped into his mom’s arms, no hesitation, no regrets. “Mama, Mama, Mama!”
Ashley’s eyes watered, too. “Oh, honey, I missed you so much.” She ran her hands over her boy, his head, his shoulders, his back. She kissed him over and over, as if she couldn’t get enough of him.
“I missed you, too, Mama, I missed you too!”
Elizabeth pressed her worn tissue to her eyes. She went to the front door to close it, to give them privacy. In the hallway she noticed the pumpkin that she and Brandon had carved together. The waterworks started anew.
“Brandon, honey, are you ready to go home?” Ashley asked, her hands bracketed on either side of the boy’s face. “I’m sorry that I missed Halloween with you, but I’ve been thinking ahead to Thanksgiving, and how special we can make the holiday this year.”
“Let me get my stuff! I’ll be ready in a minute.” Brandon raced past Elizabeth at breakneck speed, careering into what Elizabeth had come to think of as Brandon’s room.
Numb all over, Elizabeth went to the doorway and watched him pack. It was impossible not to feel tightness in her throat. Into a duffel bag went all of his clothes and schoolbooks. His toothbrush and his bubble-gum toothpaste. The baseballs Jon had given him, and the glove Jon had signed for him, too.
She hadn’t even gotten the chance to explain to Brandon about Jon being traded to the West Coast. About Jon not being able to be as big a part of their lives anymore.
“Mom!” Brandon called as he struggled out the door with his overstuffed duffel bag. “Can you help me with my pitch-back net?”
And, oh, Elizabeth almost lost it. Brandon was leaving nothing to remind her of their time together. He raced toward his mom, dragging his luggage down the hallway and into the elevator.
Elizabeth shut the door and turned around in her quiet, empty apartment. It was almost as if Brandon had never lived here. But wasn’t this what she had wanted: To be alone again? Free to do whatever she wished? To read what she wanted? To watch the television programs she liked?
She had no more kid’s agenda to follow. No more gluten-free dinners to prepare. No more family fun days.
No more Jon.
Her breath catching in her throat, she turned and nearly cried aloud when she saw the construction-paper card that Jon had helped Brandon make for Elizabeth during their time in the Sunshine Club program. It was tacked to her refrigerator with a magnet from Brandon’s school, listing the administration’s office telephone numbers.
Tears ran down Elizabeth’s cheeks.
This was not what she’d wanted, or expected, to feel. But both her males had left her, and there was nothing she could do about it, because she didn’t belong to either one of them. Not really.
She went into her bedroom and lay facedown on her bed, sobbing her heart out. Even now, her pillows still smelled like Jon.
Twenty minutes later, there was a tentative knock on her bedroom door. Ashley walked in, alone, without Brandon. She held out her arms, and Elizabeth sank into them, crying like she didn’t think she had ever cried before.
“Lisbeth, honey. I can never, ever thank you enough for what you’ve done for us.”
“Are you r-really okay?” Elizabeth sniffled. “Are you not going to n-need me anymore?”
“I am okay. I’m going to be okay.” Ashley stroked Elizabeth’s hair and soothed her. “Lisbeth, I feel so much hope for us. The program was wonderful. I had sessions with Mom, and that cleared up a lot of things for me.” Ashley pulled back and looked at Elizabeth. “Honey, are you okay? What’s going on?”
“Please don’t be sorry for me.” Elizabeth stood back, taking deep breaths and getting hold of herself. “It’s all right. It’s not your problem. Brandon is your boy, and Jon is baseball’s commodity...”
“Is he the baseball pitcher Brandon was telling me about? I don’t know Jon, but I do know my son, and Brandon seems to have grown even fonder of you.” She rubbed Elizabeth’s shoulder. “We’ll come visit you often, you’ll see.”
Eliza
beth hoped so. She would miss her brave, perceptive nephew. Still, she couldn’t tell her sister that it wouldn’t be the same for her. Because Jon would not be with them.
She glanced at the digital clock on her bedside table. Maybe Jon had gone to the charity bachelor auction. Maybe he was trying to fix things with Vivian.
“Do you have somewhere to go tonight?” Ashley asked.
“I wish,” Elizabeth blurted. “I have so much to tell you, Ash. Brandon actually made a commercial with Jon, the baseball player...”
“I know that,” Ashley said, smiling.
“And Caitlin is aware of where you’ve been these past weeks....”
Ashley nodded. “Brandon told me about that, too.”
“So you’re okay with it?”
“Honey, I learned a lot these past thirty days.”
Elizabeth sat on the bed beside her sister and took a breath. “Well, that’s good, because I’ve got a lot of questions that I can’t answer right now. Like what happens when you’re not ready to let someone go? When they have the wrong impression of you, and you want to fix it?”
“First, I’d say that a good place to start is to ask for some help.”
Elizabeth digested that. Did she dare? What if she went to Jon? Showed him that she could go public with him?
“Will you help me, Ash? I need to find something to wear to meet with a CEO tonight. And I need to do it quickly.”
Ashley laughed and tugged at Elizabeth’s hand. And the next thing Elizabeth knew, they were standing in front of her closet, Ashley helping her into a silk cocktail dress that Brandon and Mrs. Ham had nixed on their earlier consultation.
“Perfect,” Ashley said, with a smile playing on her lips. “And now, do you have shoes to wear with it?”
“Um, yours?” Elizabeth showed her the low heels she’d borrowed from her sister’s closet.
“Those will work.” A smile spread over Ashley’s face, and she hugged Elizabeth again.
The distinctive squeak of Brandon’s sneakers rounding the hardwood floor sounded behind her. “Goodbye, Auntie. Thank you for taking care of me,” Brandon said in a small voice.
Out of His League Page 26
