Chapter 12
Casey
It’s only seven o’clock in the morning, but my mother scurries from one end of the kitchen to the other, frying bacon and adding another two slices of bread to the toaster. The salty bacon smell has permeated not only the kitchen but the narrow front hallway as well.
“You never make me breakfast in the morning,” says my father, snagging a piece of the greasy fried pork.
She playfully smacks his hand and moves the plate from the stove to the kitchen table. “The doctor said you can’t have this stuff anymore,” then turns to him and adds, “I always make you breakfast.”
“Black coffee and a stale muffin doesn’t count,” he snorts.
Putting her hands on her hips, she narrows her eyes. “That’s not true and you know it.”
A smile escapes his lips. “I do.” He grins. “But I love it when you get that fire in your eyes.”
“Oh, you!” she grumbles and returns to the kitchen to grab some orange juice from the refrigerator. “Casey, can I get you anything else?”
“No. This is more than enough, thank you. Come sit down, it’s almost time for me to go.” I grab her hand and pull her away from the fridge.
“I don’t know why you have to rush off so soon,” she says, moving closer, but still not sitting down. “You only just got here.”
“Mom, I really shouldn’t have left in the first place, but they gave me some extra time.”
She shrugs her shoulders and turns her back toward the counter, but not before adding, “Just be sure to call more often when you’re in L.A.”
“I will, Mom.”
She turns back to the fridge. “I’ll just pack a lunch for the plane ride.”
“Mom, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine for a few hours.”
“Let her do it. She likes taking care of you.”
“Yes, I do. But it’s time you start thinking about having another woman in your life.”
My father waggles his eyebrows across the kitchen table at me. “I think he already has his sights on a pretty blonde with curly hair.”
My mother spins around and points her finger at me. “That girl is not for you, Casey. You need someone more sophisticated.”
“Sage is sophisticated,” my father argues, beating me to the punch.
“That girl is half naked every time I see her.”
My father and I both smile, but before I can defend Sage, my mother harps on. “Now, Mrs. Tanner’s niece, she’s a prize. You should give her a call when you’re in L.A. She’ll be visiting Texas soon and you two should meet up.”
“I have no intention of going to Texas and no intention of dating anyone.”
“Really?” Both my mother and father ask, but my father’s expression gives me pause. If possible, I think he may be a little more disappointed than my mother.
“Why are you surprised?”
“I could be wrong, but I thought you liked Sage.”
“I do.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Leave him. He knows when a woman isn’t right for him.”
I sigh. “It’s not that. Sage is wonderful. But I’m not interested in dating anyone. My focus is baseball. It’s everything to me.”
My father rubs his face.
I’d never noticed how deep his wrinkles have gotten, especially around his eyes and forehead.
When did my dad get old? I can still remember his face when he took me to my first little league game.
“Don’t look so disappointed, Dad. This is what we worked so hard for.
All those weekend tournaments, all the nights you caught my pitches even when it became dark and Mom would yell at us to get inside, it was all for this. ”
He nods but looks away.
My mother squeezes my shoulders and leans in to kiss my cheek. “You’re right, baby. You need to focus on yourself. There will be plenty of time for women when you retire.”
I’m nodding along with my mother, but a sinking feeling drops in my stomach. Her words make sense, and it’s practically what I just told my father, but they sound wrong when she says them out loud.
My phone pings with a message. “I’ve got to go. My ride is outside.”
My father slowly straightens out of his chair, stumbles, but quickly recovers. He puts his hand on my arm, and I stare at it before meeting his gaze. “Take care, son. And don’t be a stranger this time.”
“I’ll call, Dad.”
He watches me and I know that’s not what he meant but I can’t promise him I’ll be back soon. As I told Sage, I don’t intend to come back to Cedar Brook Falls for a very long time.
*
My plane lands at LAX at noon, and while flying first class affords me to be one of the first people to leave the plane, I take a minute to compose a text to Sage.
Hey. Hope you slept in this morning. I missed waking up next to you.
Shit. I delete the last part before continuing the text.
I just landed in L.A. and the sun is obnoxiously shining but it feels good on my face. I had a great time with you, Sage. And—
And—what? I hope she has a great day? No. That’s stupid.
I hope you find someone who treats you right. Nah. That sounds like a cop out even for me.
I rub my face with my hands and sigh a big breath through my fingers.
“Sir? It’s time to leave now.”
“Oh,” I say, having completely forgotten where I was for a minute. I grab my bag and pull away from the seat. “I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your way.”
“No problem, sir. I hope you had a great flight.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
As soon as I get off the plane and walk through the boarding bridge, my phone buzzes. It’s my agent. “Hey, Brett. What’s up? I just arrived in L.A.”
“I know. I got a notification on my phone that you landed. I need you to come straight to my office. There are some offers I want to discuss.”
“Um…” I look at my watch. I’d planned to go to the gym as soon as I got back, right before meeting with my trainer later. “Can we discuss it over the phone? I’ve got a lot lined up for today.”
“You blew me off all week. I won’t let you do it now that you’re back.”
“Brett, I’ve been busy.”
He sighs and I can feel his frustration through the phone. “Fine. Call me back when you’re in the car on the way to your apartment.”
“Fine.”
I hang up but clumsily drop my phone as I approach an airport rep showing people where to line up for the exit. She picks up the phone and I can tell by the way her eyes widen that she recognizes me. “You’re Casey Tucker, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Oh, you don’t have to wait in line. I’ll take you straight through.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’m a big fan. I bet you’ll win the World Series this year.”
I smile wryly. “I hope you’re right.”
She ushers me through the crowd and nods to the security guard. “It was great meeting you. Do you mind if I get a picture with you?” She’s already reaching for her phone in her back pocket.
“No, that’s fine.” I pose beside her and she puts up a peace sign next to my face.
“Thanks!” she says as she’s checking the photo.
I pick up my bag and search for the exit to find a taxi.
Less than fifteen minutes later, I’m sitting in the back of a minivan when my phone vibrates next to my thigh, and I dig it out of my pocket.
Checking the screen, I realize it’s Brett again. He barely gave me time to leave the airport, so I answer curtly. “Brett—”
“Are you on your way back?”
“Yes, but—"
“Good. Here’s what you need to know. I got a call from Andy Jones in Philadelphia.”
“I didn’t know Philly was interested.”
“Everyone’s interested, Tuck. Now listen. Andy says the organization is willing to go to 70 million a year for five years…”
My heart nearly explodes in my chest. 70 million… 70 million… that’s more money than I could have dreamt of.
“… but it’s all conditional on you staying healthy this season. So, what do you think? How is the arm? Do we have a deal?”
I roll my shoulder and look for pain or tightness. It’s loose and smooth, no twinge of discomfort at all. Sage’s massages really worked. “I’m 100 percent, Brett. Let’s get our money.”
Brett whoops on the phone. “Fuck yeah!”
Chuckling at his enthusiasm, I stare out the window. “What about the Lions? What are they offering?”
“New York? Nah, they’re not worth your time.”
Oddly, hearing Brett put them down makes me a little defensive. “They’re a good team. I’m not going to write them off without checking. Give them a call. See what they’re thinking.”
“The last time I discussed salary with them, they’re in the 40 million a year range. There’s no way they’ll match what Philly is offering.”
No. Probably not. But still… “Worth a phone call, no? That’s what I’m paying you for, isn’t it?”
He sighs. “Fine. But for the record, I won't stop working. Not for you or any of my clients. So that 15 percent fee isn't enough.”
I roll my eyes. “I’d say 10 million dollars is plenty, Brett.”
“Yeah, just fucking stay healthy, Tuck. Don’t pull anything. Not even an eyelash, do you hear me?”
“Got it. Talk to you later.”
I end the call and shove my phone in my pocket. The euphoria of 70 million starts to wane and in its place there is a heavy weight on my chest. I inhale sharply but that only makes it worse.
I take deep breaths to loosen my chest.
Closing my eyes, I picture Sage in front of the waterfall. Her blonde curls catching the sun’s rays, illuminating the strands into various shades of pale yellow and golden brown. I could almost feel my fingers running through it.
“We’re here, amigo,” says the driver. As soon as I open my eyes, the glass entrance of my building comes into view and the doorman is already stepping outside to open my door.
“Thank you,” I say and tip the driver an extra $50 cash, although I’ve already paid via the app. I appreciate that he didn’t speak the entire ride home or blare the music.
The doorman approaches. “Good morning, Mr. Tucker. Could I get your bags for you, sir?”
“No, thank you, George. I’ve got them.”
The elevator ride up to the thirtieth floor feels longer than usual. Perhaps I’m tired. Perhaps I’m a little worn out after seeing family. Or perhaps the thoughts weighing down my muscles are heavier than that.
I check my phone, but there’s no reply from Sage, and the melancholy sinks a little deeper.
Shit. When did I become a pathetic loser?
I step off the elevator with more purpose and determination than I felt earlier. I’ve got a job to do and it’s time I get back to doing it.
I don’t bother with a shower since I’m heading to the gym. Pulling on some shorts and a grey t-shirt, I head downstairs.
For Monday morning, the gym is empty. There are only a couple of people on the stair climber machines, a couple more on the treadmills, and no one is using the heavier weights.
I stretch out my arms and shoulders before picking up one of the lighter weights to warm up.
I’ve barely finished the second set when I glimpse a streak of vibrant red hair walking behind me in the mirror.
It’s Cara, and I can smell her heavy fragrance.
“I heard a rumor that you were back,” she says, walking slowly, her hips swaying, until she’s standing next to me.
I don’t stop curling the weights to respond. “Good news travels fast.”
She smiles. “It sure does. You were gone a long time. I wasn’t sure if you were coming back.”
“My father was sick.”
Her face falls. “That’s right. I’m sorry. How is he?”
“He’s doing a lot better. Thanks.”
She pushes her hair back behind her shoulders. “What are you working on? Do you need a spot?”
“I’m good. Thanks.”
She nods but doesn’t move to leave. She just watches me through the mirror.
I try to ignore her but it’s getting a bit annoying.
If I ask her what she’s working on, to remind her she should go ahead and do it, it’ll only encourage more conversation.
So, I breathe through the reps and stare at my arms as I lift the weights above my shoulders.
I’m grateful I don’t feel any pain, and I’m so focused on my movements that I don’t hear her question until she asks, “So, are you?”
“Huh?” I ask between breaths.
She rolls her eyes playfully, but I’m not really amused. It’s so strange how I couldn’t get enough of Cara a few months ago, and now I just want her to go away.
“I said, are you going to Carlos’s party tonight?”
I hadn’t even heard about any party, but even if I did, I knew I wouldn’t be interested. “I just got back from New York. It was a long flight, and I didn’t get any sleep. I won’t be up past eight tonight.”
She sucks her cheeks and it makes her lips pout. I used to find it hot when she did it before, but I feel nothing now.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” She steps closer to me. So close that I’m concerned my elbow will hit her temple if she doesn’t move out of the way. So, I step to the side.
She notices. “What about tomorrow night? I’m free if you want to hang or something.”
After a series of reps, the weight feels heavier and I blow out a loud breath. “I have no plans tomorrow night.”
She smiles, and this time, she massages her neck, pushing her long hair back and to the side. “Great. Then pick me up at eight? We can go to the new club on Rodeo.”
Finishing my warmup, I drop the weights and place them on the stand. I don’t know Cara well, but I know that she won’t give up easily. I could just make an excuse and hope she gets the picture, but I don’t want to waste her time.
I turn to her and soften my face as I’m sure it must look a little annoyed at having to stop my work out.
“Look, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, but I’ve come off a long break from baseball, and I’m planning to spend every minute of the next few months getting back into the best version of me.
That means working out, practicing, and focusing on my mechanics.
When I’m not doing those things, I plan to rest my body.
I don’t plan on going to any parties or hanging out with anyone.
It’s nothing personal. Do you understand what I’m saying? ”
She crosses her arms but her eyes blink rapidly. Her face doesn’t give away any of her feelings. “Yeah. I understand.”
She turns to walk away but stops and looks over her shoulder at me. “I really liked you, Casey. Like a lot. And sometimes you just don’t see what’s right in front of you.”
I huff. That’s absurd. I see a World Series Championship in front of me. I see the biggest contract in MLB history in front of me. I see success. What I don’t see is partying to achieve any of that. I get that she’s disappointed, but I think the condescension is a little unnecessary.
I shrug my shoulders to loosen them up and then move on to the next set.