by Stella
And with that, I walked away.
I ignored her pleas to hear her out, to forgive her, and hooked Daniel into the back seat of Mac, ready to put all this behind me. I needed to have some sort of conversation with Katie, and the forty-minute drive home gave me just enough time to sift through the garbage and doubt I’d left the school with.
“At the risk of being slapped…” I sat next to Katie on the couch while she nursed Daniel. “You’ve been rather hormonal for quite some time now.”
She slowly turned her head and glared at me, although she let me continue.
“I have done some reading, and that’s to be expected considering all the hormones that flood your body when you’re pregnant, and then quickly leaving you after you give birth. It’s quite impressive, if I may say so myself. And while I know they can make you mad, tired, sad, and definitely horny, would you say it’s possible they could also make you…oh, I don’t know, fall in love when you typically wouldn’t?”
Her glare softened into mild confusion. One brow quirked, and she slowly lifted the right corner of her lips into the sexiest smirk I’d ever seen. “Why are you asking, Gage?”
“Just curious. I’m trying to get all the facts of pregnancy down pat.”
“Don’t you think you’re a little late for that?”
“Not really. I was kinda hoping you’d give me a girl. Daniel is fun and all, but people always say he’s pretty. That’d be lovely if he were female…so you should totally give me one.”
“Our son is sixteen days old, and he’s currently suckling on my all-you-can-eat buffet—and before you say anything, that’s what it’s called; I’m in no way telling you that it’s all you can eat.”
“If you think sitting next to you while you got your titties out and my son in your arms will suddenly make me reconsider you giving me a girl, you’re sadly mistaken.” The glare returned. “Hey, at least I didn’t call them utters this time.”
“Yay for the small things in life.” Sarcasm was strong with that one.
“Anyway, can you just answer the question?”
“Why…do you think I only say I love you because I’m so hormonal?”
“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds bad.”
“Then make it sound good. I’d love to hear it.”
“Okay. Ready?” I cleared my throat and sat up straighter on the edge of the cushion. “With the insanely excessive amount of pregnancy hormones that have invaded your body while you so selflessly and graciously nurtured my son in your womb—or uterus, I still don’t understand the difference—I wonder if it was possible to fall in love with someone that you wouldn’t typically or ordinarily fall for. And then after you so humbly and thoughtfully brought my son into the world, and all those hormones have quickly and thoroughly left your body, would that mean all those overwhelmingly amazing feelings of love would go away, leaving you with the same lowly opinion of that person you might’ve had prior to the attack of hormones? It’s just something I’ve been pondering occasionally.”
“You do know that adding LY to the end of almost every word doesn’t make you sound sophisticated, right? And no. I don’t think that’s possible—for either one of your scenarios. I think having a child can definitely bring two people together who wouldn’t have given each other a chance otherwise. And even more so when they are living in the same house. Being pregnant doesn’t mean you’re walking around with rose-colored glasses on all the time and can just fall in love with anyone. Sometimes you have to be forced into a situation to see things for what they really are, and not the public persona they try to make everyone believe.”
“I’d say I’m lucky to have someone as smart as you, but you added an LY to one of your words. So that point is mute.”
“Moot.”
“Come again?”
“The word is—oh, never mind. You’re so pretty.”
“Hey, no wonder people say that about Daniel. Now it all makes sense.”
She ran her hand over my hair, kind of like she was petting an obedient dog. “You’re the most special person I’ve ever met.”
“Specialist.”
She blinked a few times and then said, “Huh?”
“You said most special…the correct word is specialist.”
“Yeah. You’re that, too.”
When Daniel finished his meal with a hearty burp, I took him from her and set him on his swing. Then I went back to her side. “I do have one more question for you, and before I ask, I need you to know that I don’t care what your answer is. Okay?”
Skeptical, she said, “Got it.”
“Did you ever change your last name?”
Fear flashed across her eyes, but the second my hand enveloped hers, it vanished. “Uh, yeah. It used to be a bit longer. I hated my dad, so I legally changed it when I was eighteen because I didn’t want any connection to him.”
I nodded and then dared to ask one more. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that your dad played baseball? This whole time, you’ve made it seem like you never paid attention to the sport, when you grew up around it.”
“I guess that would require two answers. The first is, telling someone that my dad had been a professional ballplayer would mean to me that I was somehow bragging about him. Making him out to be something special, when in reality, he was a monster. So I just never tell people. It’s not that I chose to keep it from you…it’s just that he’s not someone I care to discuss unless I’m talking about how much I hate him. And I wasn’t pretending or trying to act like I didn’t know much about the game—I truly didn’t. The sport never interested me. In my mind, it was connected to a shitty person who did even shittier things. Aside from watching your games with Granny, I never bothered to pay attention until after you moved in and would leave for games.”
I pulled the back of her hand to my lips and whispered against her skin, “I love you so much.”
The Titans had made it to the seventh game of the World Series. It was tied, three to three, the winner of the final game would take it all home. The losers would remember it forever and spend a lifetime critiquing every play they’d made.
I wanted to be a winner.
But I’d sat out every game since divisionals, and as much as it sucked, I’d have to support my brothers from the dugout. They’d gotten us here, and they could finish it. There was no doubt in my mind about that.
“Nix!” Coach called into the locker room. “My office. Now.”
All the guys perked up and turned worried eyes my way. I just smiled, shrugged, and left the room. This wasn’t a surprise. In fact, I’d requested this meeting. The day before the first game of the World Series, I’d sat down with Coach and told him how I felt—about the game, the team, my standing in the league. He’d tried to talk me out of it, but my mind had been made up. Ultimately, I loved the sport—always had and always would. But I loved my family more. I wanted to share my life with Katie, and traveling seven months out of the year made that incredibly difficult.
So, with a heavy heart and silent prayer, I sat in front of Coach’s desk, next to the general manager of the team. After hearing out my well-rehearsed speech, thanks to Coby, he reviewed my contract and then turned his attention to me.
“You have five years left on a ten-year contract. And you’re saying you want to buy yourself out? You sure you’re willing to write that kind of check just to stay home with your wife and kid? I don’t know about you, Gage…but that seems a lot like cutting off your nose to spite your face. What kind of financial support do you think you could offer them if you give up that kind of money?”
“With all due respect, sir, I have faith that it’ll work out the way it’s meant to.”
“And you’ve looked at all your options?”
“Yes, sir. Most of which my buddy Kyler has refused to do.”
He gave me a funny look before quickly shaking it off. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are your reasons against a contract renegotiation?”
“Ultimately, I have no desire to travel anymore. And since it’s safe to say you would never entertain a proposal that would eliminate that while still keeping me on this team, I took that option off the table.”
“Well, I will admit that I came here today already aware of the situation and where you stood in regard to leaving your family for extended periods. And if I may, I’d like to put my own offer on the table and let you contemplate it before making any final decision.”
“Absolutely. I’d love to hear what you have.”
“First and foremost, I’d like to point out what an exceptional player you are. I’ll be the first to admit that I was hesitant when you requested to be on this team. But over the years, I’ve seen substantial growth in you as a person, as well as your continued efforts on the field. You’re an asset, Gage. And as such, we don’t want to see you go. With that being said, there’s a developmental training position on our minor team, that if you so choose, is yours for the next five years. There’s no travel involved, and you’d be able to mold our young players into the next team to take us to the World Series.”
I was speechless. In fact, there was a good chance I didn’t even blink. My eyes were so dry I wasn’t sure my lids would be able to close without becoming stuck. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be offered this kind of compromise. It truly was the best of both worlds.
“Go home, think about it, talk it over with the wife, and let me know when you’ve reached a decision.”
“I’ll take it.” I hadn’t even waited until the last syllable was off his tongue before jumping at the opportunity he’d presented. “Thank you. Really, thank you so much. I won’t let you down.”
He said a few more things, as did Coach, and all the while, I just watched their mouths move, not hearing a single word. And when we all stood up, the meeting dismissed, I couldn’t wait to run home and tell Katie the news. However, Coach had different plans. We all shook hands, yet when he had mine trapped in his, he held on longer, and then he pointed to the chair I’d just stood from. I had no idea what else he wanted to discuss, yet not even the fear of the unknown could bring me down from this high.
“Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day. Win or lose, it’ll be the biggest day of every player’s life thus far. We’ll either walk off that diamond feeling invincible, or completely broken. We’ve always been a team here, always had each other’s backs. When you decided to sit out the last eleven games, whether they liked it or not, agreed with it or not, every last one of those men supported you.”
“I know, Coach. And I appreciate it more than they’ll ever know.”
“I can see it in your eyes—you want to play. I told you I wouldn’t push you, and I won’t. But if you’re sitting this one out because you think you’re doing everyone a favor, you need to cut that shit out right now. You ain’t doing anything for anyone by keeping them company in the dugout. The way I see it…you have to put on your uniform and report to the field whether you play or not. You have to kiss that baby’s head and walk out the door whether you put a glove on or not. So why not just play? Why not enjoy the last game of your Major League Baseball career and earn that World Series ring?”
“Because, Coach, I didn’t do anything to get us here. They did. And they deserve the spotlight.”
“Like hell you didn’t do anything to get us here. Were you not at all one hundred and sixty-two games this season? Did you not secure home runs? What about outs? Were you not the one at third base racking up out after out, game after game?”
“Well, yeah. I did.”
“Okay then. You got us here.”
“I don’t know, Coach.”
“Then sleep on it. I’ll see you tomorrow. You can let me know then if I’m adding you to the lineup.”
I shook his hand and left, now with far more on my mind than the renegotiation.
It was bottom of the ninth, and we were down by one. Just one point. We had a man on second, and I was up to bat. It was all on me. The entire championship fell on my shoulders. I was the one who’d ultimately decide whether my team would leave with smiles or tears.
And I immediately regretted my decision to play today.
After getting home yesterday, I’d filled Katie in on everything—the contract, the field team, what it would mean for us, and then the offer Coach had given me at the end. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. And I guess part of me knew that. The only reason I’d given in was that she’d asked if she would be able to attend…with Daniel. She wanted our son to be there when his daddy won the World Series. Honestly, only a heartless fool would turn that down.
I stepped up to home plate and turned my attention to the owner’s box, knowing not only was Katie there, more than likely pressed against the glass while holding her breath in her lungs and Daniel in her arms, but the Kylers were as well. I couldn’t see them, though I imagined Ellie and Coby flanked Katie on either side. And all throughout the stands were people on their feet, holding signs that read “Bring it home, Home Run King.” As if I didn’t already have enough pressure. I took a deep breath and brought my focus back to the diamond to prepare myself for the pitch.
Guthrie.
Joe Guthrie, the pitcher for the Eureka Redwoods, was a beast. The speed of his throws alone was amongst the best in all of baseball, but add to it the sheer precision, and what was left had been commonly referred to as lethal.
This was the absolute worst time to be against him.
I dug my toe into the ground and wound up.
A sharp whizzing sound broke free as the bat glided through the air, and then, a millisecond later, a thunderous clap rang out—the ball slamming into the catcher’s mitt. Strike one.
The crowd went silent, nothing but a faint buzzing could be heard.
Again, toe in dirt, bat in hands. I wound up, though this time, I tried to relax my stance a little more than before. And just like last time, I swung yet hit nothing. Strike two.
I glanced to the side, at the stands and the owner’s box one last time. People still clung to their homemade posters, most were biting their nails or covering their mouths with their hands. And as I tried to picture Katie, her fingers to the glass as if she could push a kiss through it and get it to me, the buzzing stopped. The air stilled and the static that had surrounded me since stepping up to the plate subsided. The only thing I heard was the sound of Granny’s voice and the words she used to say to me before every game.
“Take a deep breath, hold it in, let it fill you up until you’re ready to pop, and then let it out slowly between your teeth. There, now you’re deflated. No ego. No pressure. Just you. Because that’s the only thing anyone needs…you.”
As soon as the last ounce of air whistled past my teeth, I opened my eyes and stepped back into place. Instead of digging, I twisted. Instead of winding up, I pointed the end of my bat at Joe, smiled, and swung it backward until it hovered over my shoulder.
Joe crouched low, his hand behind his back—his typical preparation just before throwing a game-winning pitch. If only he knew he was throwing it for the wrong team. I watched him wind up and whispered, “You may have gotten two strikes on the Home Run King, but you won’t get one on Gage Nix.”
The ball left his hand.
The smile remained on my lips.
The bat flew through the air.
And once again, a thunderous roar rippled through the night.
I glanced behind me, fully expecting to find the catcher holding the ball. He wasn’t. And by the time I swung my attention to the outfield, wondering where it had gone, I was surrounded by a sea of Titans. Surreal, that was the only word that came close to how I felt at that moment. In the tiny space between two other players, I couldn’t ignore the sight of Joe, dressed in blue, kneeling on the pitcher’s mound. He had his face buried in his glove, his head practically between his legs. And one by one, the men in blue fell to their knees.
I was off my feet, in the midst of being hoisted onto shoulders, when I fought against m
y brothers to let me down. I didn’t care what was right or wrong—this was the World Series, and we’d just won. The entire stadium became nothing more than white noise as I approached Joe, shook his hand, and then moved on to the next.
And then I slipped out, leaving my teammates to celebrate without me.
I had someone else in mind to celebrate with—and quite possibly, another reason.
It was utter chaos getting from the field to the owner’s box. Hands reached out to grab me, security tried—and failed—to stop me, and shouts of excitement surrounded the stadium in support of me. And finally, after what seemed like hours, I made it to the room where the only people who truly mattered to me were waiting.
Katie didn’t see me as I slipped inside. She watched the excitement below while bouncing with Daniel in her arms, patting his butt with muted, hollow thumps. A replica of my jersey hugged her curves, and I had to admit, nothing beat the sight of my number—twenty-nine—in the center of her back and my last name stretched across her shoulder blades.
However, Coby noticed me, though he was in the middle of a conversation with Katie and Ellie. If either of them stopped talking, Katie would turn around, and I wasn’t quite ready for that. So instead, Cody leaned down to whisper into Corinne’s ear, held his finger over his mouth to reiterate what he’d said, and then handed her the black box with a slight nudge in my direction. If I managed to pull this off…it’d be a miracle.
I knelt to the floor when Corinne ran to me. Her eyes were big and bright, and she had her cheeks puffed out like she was a balloon close to bursting. I took the box from her tiny grasp and held her still in front of me. “Listen, I know a lot has changed lately, but you’re still my best friend.”
