by Stella
“I don’t want to be that far away from either of you.” He hadn’t said much since we’d sat down. Mostly, he’s stroked Daniel’s head and cheek and squeezed me with the arm he had draped over my shoulders.
“It’s only a couple days. I promise, we’ll be okay. And then when these games are over, we get you for a few days in a row.” I didn’t add that he’d have to leave for three or four if they made it to the next round. Salt in an open wound kind of thing.
He nodded, but we both knew what we faced. The only thing I clung to was the fact that even if they went all the way, the World Series would be over in less than a month. At that point, Gage would stop at nothing to get out of the league. I didn’t have a clue what renegotiation meant for him, and Coby had convinced me not to let him buy out the two remaining years of his contract. Gage and I hadn’t discussed it, but I’d made up my mind that if he had to put in two more seasons, Daniel and I would travel, too. It wasn’t ideal, but there were other women who went with their spouses—not that Gage and I were married—and made it work.
If he needed us to get through this, there was nothing keeping Daniel and me tied to Tuscaloosa. We didn’t even have a dog. It would cost a fortune, but I had money to spend and nowhere to be.
When Ellie got to the house, Gage took Daniel into another room. I had no idea what they did, although I imagined he gave his son a pep talk. And while it was intended for Daniel, it did more for Gage. The two returned, and he handed the baby to Ellie and told her bye. He grabbed his bag and had his hand on the doorknob to the garage, and I wondered if he was really going to leave this way. At the very last second, he tilted his head for me to follow.
I glanced at Ellie—who, of course, waved me out the door. He must have pressed the button when he walked out because the door rolled up to reveal the morning sun. Gage threw his bag across the car to the passenger side of Mac and then climbed into the driver’s seat. With his legs still facing out, he pulled me between his thighs. His massive hands captured my jaw just before his lips took mine. Gage didn’t hold back, and it was a kiss that made my toes curl in a different kind of way. Once more, I was a breath away from ripping his clothes off and saying to hell with the invisible string. Just as I was about to crawl into his lap, he broke away and leaned his forehead against mine.
My chest heaved, and my heart raced. I wanted nothing more than to keep him with me. Instead, I bit my tongue and left my mouth shut.
“God, I love you.” He closed his eyes, and it was evident how difficult it was for him to leave.
“I love you, too.” I stroked his jaw with the pad of my thumb and stared into his eyes when he reopened them. I never got tired of watching the colors change. “We’ll see you in a couple days.”
Gage swallowed hard and fought to keep his emotions hidden. I knew how hard this was for him. It was just as hard for me. He planted one last kiss right in the center of my forehead, and then he turned his legs under the steering wheel. I backed up and closed the car door, hoping he didn’t roll the window down. The longer this went on, the harder it became for both of us.
I pressed my hand to my lips with a kiss and then held my fingers to the glass. Gage raised his to meet mine and winked. For just an instant, everything was still. My heart didn’t beat, I didn’t take a breath, the wind didn’t rustle the leaves, and nature didn’t make a sound. It was like the moment the sun kissed the horizon as it set, a blink of an eye, a blip in time—that second, that very instant—our souls united, and I knew I could never live without him.
Before I realized it, I’d taken three steps to reach the edge of the garage and watched his SUV as he drove down the driveway. And just as his taillights left my view, I whispered, “Good luck.”
My sentiment hadn’t helped him in that game any more than it had the previous two. The Titans managed to pull out their third win and would be coming home without having to play the next two games, but Gage’s place in the next round was uncertain.
That thought crushed me because I wanted him to go out on a high. I wanted him to have that World Series ring on his finger and know he had a part in putting it there. I wanted him to have everything he’d ever wanted before he met me so that when he moved on, Gage wouldn’t feel like he hadn’t accomplished the highest goal in Major League Baseball or given up before it was time.
My Home Run King deserved to wear the crown.
Chapter Nineteen
Gage
The team was on a high. Tuscaloosa, Alabama, the fans…all on an incredible high. We’d won the first round of the playoffs, taking out the Omaha Prairie Dogs. And now, we were on our way to the league championships. We had a bit of a break, considering the western division and wild card team hadn’t finished their games, and from the looks of it, would end up playing the fifth game before we would know who we were up against, though that didn’t mean things had slowed down. While all the other teams not in the playoffs were enjoying time with their loved ones, we were on the field, in the weight room, and Coach had given us all a curfew.
“This ain’t the time to celebrate,” Coach roared from the locker room. “We made it through one round, but that don’t mean shit when we have more to get through. I’ll be damned if we throw away the World Series after getting this far.”
Someone needed to teach this man how to give a pep talk. There was no “pep” in his “talk.”
“Just because we finished in three games don’t mean shit. You hear me? We had them in the first two games, and then fell behind at the beginning of the third. If we’re here, or if we’re there, we need to be at our best. That means…no parties.” He glanced around the room, pausing on each of us as he went. “No staying up late. No Taco Bell. We have eight to fourteen more games to go before we get that ring. After that, drink what you want. Eat however much shit you can fit in your mouths. Stay up as long as you’d like. But until then…you’re mine, and you’ll do as I say.”
I figured it wouldn’t be the best time to inform him that I more than likely wouldn’t be able to stick to his plan. No staying up late? I wondered if going to bed early and then waking up multiple times throughout the night would’ve meant I was breaking his rules or not. And for eating right…hell, I was lucky if I got a real meal these days. Katie could barely walk ten feet, let alone stand in front of a stove for an hour. And if I were home, I had no desire to sacrifice my time with Katie and Daniel to cook. Fuck that. At least, he didn’t have to worry about me partying or drinking.
“I know a couple of you have been here before,” he continued. “But the Titans have never made it past round one. This is a big deal. Don’t let the town down. Don’t let the fans down. And you sure as hell better not let me down. Now, go home and get some rest.” He pulled his shoulders back and stood next to the door while everyone filed out.
That is, everyone but me.
He grabbed my arm and nudged his head to the side, silently ordering me to stay behind. In all honesty, this hadn’t come as a surprise. I guess I just figured if he’d do it, he would’ve done it before now.
Once the room was empty, I shifted to take a seat on the bench, settling in to hear the worst news a player could be given. I was torn. On one hand, I didn’t care about the game anymore. Although, that didn’t mean I didn’t care about the team and the other players. I didn’t want to let them down, but at the same time, my family came first. Granny had always made me her top priority, and I’d never be able to look at myself in a mirror again if I didn’t do the same with Daniel.
And that would be a shame.
Because I look damn good.
“Come on, son.” Coach stood in the doorway, letting me know that whatever he had to say would be done behind the closed doors of his office. Which didn’t leave much question as to how serious this was or what it could’ve been about.
The truth was, I’d played like shit. It would’ve been easy to blame it on lack of sleep, but even Coach knew that was bogus. When I’d first joined the Titans, I was a
bit of a loose cannon, so to speak. I was known to party too much, fuck too much—no such thing—and none of that had ever affected my performance on game day. Taking me on had been a gamble, but not for the reasons most would think. The media had always loved me, and I’d loved it just as much. If the press knew I was out, they’d follow, and I’d give them something to write about. That was why the Titans had so many reservations about signing me. However, I was grateful that they had been able to look past that and see the value in my game.
And now, I had hoped Coach would do the same.
He sat behind his desk and scrubbed his hand over his face. That wasn’t a good sign. I’d been around him enough to pick apart his temperament based on how he reacted, and right now, this was the worst one could hope for. He was angry—that always came with a red face and his top lip curled up like a rabid dog ready to tear someone apart. And this definitely wasn’t a good mood, considering he didn’t have that laidback approach. No…this was disappointment. Which any player would attest to being worse than anger.
“Talk to me, Gage. What’s going on? After game two, I figured your performance issues were because the baby was home, and your girl’s recovering from surgery. But then we leave, and nothing changed. In fact, you got worse. You were on lockdown in the hotel early, so you should’ve gotten plenty of sleep without a crying baby keeping you up. So tell me…what’s the problem? I want to find a solution that’ll suit us both.”
“There isn’t one, Coach.” And that was the truth. Losing me would not be in his best interest, just like keeping me in the games would not be in mine. Not to mention, bailing on my contract would not be appealing financially. Although, it would be the best decision of my life if I chose to take that path.
“There isn’t what? A problem? Or a solution?”
“Oh, there’s definitely a problem, but it’s nothing you can fix. Unless you decide to pull me from the games and allow me to stay home instead of travel with the team and entertain the dugout. But we both know you won’t do that, so I guess that means there’s no solution to my problem.”
“Why don’t you start by telling me what the issue is.”
I shook my head. There was no way to explain it to him so that he would understand.
“Listen…” He moved a folder to the side and leaned forward. “Just talk to me. Man to man. Not player to coach—what you say to me won’t leave this office, and it won’t affect whatever decision we make. Got it?”
This reminded me of that one time when Pops had said pretty much the same thing. I was fifteen and smoked pot for the first time at a party one of the seniors had thrown. He knew I was high—yet at the time, I thought I was slick and had covered it up well…I was such a dumbass. And the next morning, he sat me down, told me I could tell him anything and he wouldn’t judge me, but that he couldn’t do his job as my guardian if he didn’t have all the facts. He’d said, “I’m your friend right now, Gage. I only want to help you.” Well, that had given me a completely new outlook on friendships. He’d tanned my hide and grounded me for a month. So needless to say, I was a bit worried about how skewed my definition of “man to man” was.
“Before I say anything”—I held my hand up, needing him to give me a chance to preface this—“I want to point out that I’m fully aware of how this business works. I’ve been in the game for ten years, five of that to this team alone. I’ve signed the contracts, read the fine print, I know what is asked of me, what is demanded of me, and what my freedoms are while being owned by the league. So I’m fully aware of how this will sound, and what you’ll probably think of me once I say it.”
“You don’t know shit, son. Two weeks ago, I had to referee an argument between you and Sims over the location of Alaska. So if I had to pull up a map to prove to you that it’s not off the coast of California, you sure as hell don’t know what I’ll think of you in five minutes.”
I still believed he was wrong about that, but this wasn’t the time to debate it. We could discuss his theories of how a moose would even get there if it had to travel through Canada—the likelihood of them crossing the border without a passport was slim, and everyone knew they didn’t live in Canada.
Holding that conversation aside for a later time, I took a deep breath and readied myself to come clean with the only father figure I had left in my life. “It’s hard to be at the top of my game when I don’t want to be there.”
“I’m gonna need more if you want me to understand. You don’t want to be with the team? In the playoffs? Out of town? On the field? Help me out here, so I can see where your head’s at.” He just had to go and make everything difficult.
“My life has pretty much been an open book. With instant news and social media, and the help of Google, everything about me is printed somewhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s an article about what toothpaste I use. And being a sex symbol for women all over the country only makes it all worse.”
“Get on with it, Gage.”
“Basically, the entire world has known from the beginning—or at least, they’ve assumed—that Katie being pregnant wasn’t planned. Let’s just put that out there now, just in case anyone wants to make an argument about how a player knows the demands of the schedule and should consider that when trying to start a family.”
“No one’s saying that, but carry on.”
“Her pregnancy has literally taken place throughout the entire season. Aside from the very beginning, I’ve been in uniform for every single milestone. It’s no secret that I’ve missed all but one appointment. I’ve been on the road every time she went to the doctor, every time she had an ultrasound. Then there was the issue with the sticker and balloon thing, and I wasn’t even there for that. But I didn’t allow it to affect how I played, and I’ve been present for every game, every practice, every meeting. I’ve put ball in front of them. And because of that, because of all I’ve had to miss out on, I’ve spent the majority of the season questioning whether or not I even want to play anymore.”
“Why haven’t you said anything? As far as I know, you haven’t spoken to anyone about this. If you’ve been thinking about it that long, why not come to one of us?” I couldn’t tell if he’d asked out of concern, or if he’d somehow felt jilted that one of his players had been ready to walk and he had no idea.
“I figured I’d get through the season and see where things were at. Katie wasn’t due until the very end of this month, so even though I knew ahead of time what our chances were for making it into the playoffs, I assumed we’d be safe. And with Nelson’s suspension, going to the World Series is a bit of a stretch—not that I don’t believe in the team, but we both know taking him off the diamond at the end of the season weakened our outfield.”
He nodded, but other than that, he let me continue.
“However, in the event we made it that far, I would’ve come to you then to discuss my options, because as much as I’d love to stand under those lights and play those games, there was no way in hell I’d miss my son’s birth. The doctor told us first-time mothers tend to go to their due date or later, so really, I didn’t think this would be an issue. But it is, because now he’s here, and every time I have to put on that jersey, I’m reminded of how much I’ve already missed, and how much more this game is taking from me.”
“Tell me this, Nix…and don’t you dare fucking lie to me. Got it? I’ll find out the truth one way or another—I always do—so I suggest you come clean now. Because if you don’t, things could get very complicated for you.”
He definitely had my attention.
“You’ve never had a problem checking your baggage at the door. When you’re here, you’re here to play. Shit, Gage…your first game back after your grandma died, you were knocking them out of the park and racking up the outs from third. When the news broke about your girl’s past, you were invincible night after night. You’re an ace on a normal day, Gage. But you play your best when you have shit going on off the field.”
I sat ramrod
straight, wondering when he would get to the question. Don’t get me wrong, I very much enjoyed the stroke to my ego and hearing exactly what Coach thought of me and my abilities, but if this man dragged this out any longer, we’d have to finish this in a hospital room after I had a heart attack caused by too much anticipation.
“With that being said, I’m having trouble accepting that your recent malfunctions are caused by sleepless nights or—as you said—wanting to be at home with your family versus busting your ass to be the champ. I don’t want to ask this, but I have no choice. Did you intentionally play like shit?”
I had to bite back my growl—offended didn’t even begin to describe what I was. “You seriously think I’d throw a game? Not just any game…but playoffs?”
“I didn’t say that. Clearly, considering we won all three games, I wouldn’t insinuate that you had ‘thrown’ them. I’m asking if you purposely tanked your performance.”
“And what would be my reason, Coach? What would I get out of it?” I couldn’t believe I even needed to defend myself on this. Yes, I’d just had the worst three games of my entire career. My heart hadn’t been on that diamond—or even the dugout. But that didn’t mean it had been on purpose.
“I couldn’t tell you. None of this makes any sense to me.”
“Well, I can assure you I didn’t plan on making myself look like a rookie. I have nothing to gain by doing so. If anything, it would have negative consequences, none of which I would benefit from. I’ve already told you…I struggled to be present because my heart and soul—and my thoughts—were at home with my child and his mother, who is having trouble taking care of him on her own with the limitations she’s had since surgery. Whether I’m in a dugout or on the diamond, I’m away from them. And between those two options, trust me, I’d much rather have the satisfaction that I helped my team to victory, rather than root for them from the sidelines.”
