Chapter 27
27
[Bolan]
T he second half of spring training sped up. We had a rare day off and Ruthie and I spent the morning at the Phoenix Zoo. In the afternoon, while Tulane napped, Ruthie and I cuddled on the couch which we hadn’t done before. It took everything in me to ignore my dick springing to life, and just enjoy the time holding onto my wife. Ruthie’s back was snuggled into my front, and I couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, that I’d simply spent an afternoon hanging out, holding a girl.
Ruthie was changing everything about me. For the better.
Her fingers tickle up my forearm. “I keep meaning to ask you what this tattoo means. I get that it’s a bear, but why a bear?”
I could give her some cheesy explanation, like bears are attracted to honey produced by bees who are attracted to flowers, thus my attraction to her. Instead, I give her the deeper meaning which I’ve never told anyone before.
“My granddad. He told me this story once about how bears love to fish, and they are notoriously good at it. Snap and grab.” I imitate the motion with my hand. “A bear felt like an appropriate tattoo to get for someone wanting to be able to easily snatch and catch”—I imitate catching a fish with my bare hand again—“a ball.”
Not that baseballs are like fish, but catching a fish barehanded is all about timing and concentration.
“My granddad laughed when I got it. Told me he thought I’d done it because bears are a bit reckless.” The sluggish swagger of a bear can be deceiving. There is strength and power in a bear and fierce devotion to their cubs. The tattoo has taken on new meaning in the past year.
Ruthie hums. “Remember that night you pulled Tulane and me into your lap. The night I was so sick.”
“Yeah?”
“Kind of felt like a giant bear was holding onto us then. Someone fierce and devoted.”
I smile against her hair, my eyes closed by the lazy way she runs her fingertips over my tattoo.
“Since you call me flower, I should call you bear.”
“Funny, that had been a nickname of mine a while back.” Before I left for Japan. “Valdez called me the name on the first day I met him.” I don’t want to give too much credit to Valdez, but it did feel like The Bear was back once I stepped on that field for the Anchors. The right side of the nickname, not the old reputation.
“You’re like a giant Teddy.”
I laugh into the top of her head. “I don’t think anyone would ever call me that.”
“I would. You bring comfort and give great hugs.” She wiggles her body against mine and I grit my teeth again, forcing my dick not to react to her. Melting in a new way around her.
Wanting to be that bear which comforts her, protects her, keeps her safe.
When the final day of spring training arrives, Ruthie attends our last game and then it’s a whirlwind of activity. She’s scheduled to fly out to California at roughly the same time Tulane and I leave Phoenix. I couldn’t take a child on the team plane, and I needed permission to travel separately with Ford Sylver and his girls as he doesn’t have a traveling nanny. Ruby will remain in Arizona with her family.
Ford helped me secure childcare for the days Ruthie will be absent. He gave me the name of someone he’d used in the past. She’ll be available for team practices the next few days and then spend the weekend with Tulane as I’ll be in St. Louis and Ruthie will be in California.
When Ruthie and I get to the airport check-in, I look like a hunchback, with the car seat in a carrier strapped to my back, Tulane in my arms, and our suitcases, Tulane’s stacked on mine. Ruthie is pulling her own bags.
“I feel so bad I’m not traveling with you to Chicago.”
We’ve already talked about this. How it was silly to fly to Chicago and then turn around for Los Angeles. The flight is shorter from Phoenix to LAX.
“I’ve got this.” I traveled from Japan to California with my child. I can handle this much shorter jog across the country.
I’m more upset that I’m not getting a proper goodbye with her. Weighed down with all the bags and holding Tulane, there’s no way to lean over and kiss my wife without risking that I tip over.
And Ruthie needs to get to a different terminal .
“We’re going to miss you so much,” I say, jostling Tulane in my arms after checking in our bags. I keep my attention on my baby girl because I’m afraid to look at Ruthie. Afraid she isn’t going to miss us.
“I’ll miss you, too.” She reaches out for Tulane’s leg and gives it a little shake. “But it’s only a few days.”
We’ll need to get used to goodbyes.
She tips up on her toes and plants a kiss on Tulane’s cheek, then settles back on her feet and rubs her hand over Tulane’s red curls.
“You’ll call me when you get there?” she says to me.
“Definitely.”
Then she tips up again and kisses the corner of my mouth, missing my lips. I don’t like the sinking feeling in my stomach.
And as she walks away, I call her name. She spins quickly and I catch the glisten in her eyes. Shit.
“Flower,” I rush forward. Still holding Tulane in my arms, I cup the back of Ruthie’s head and pull her to me for a real kiss.
A better goodbye than this lame one we’re tapdancing around.
She pulls back first, her smile soggy. Her eyes still watery. “I’ve got to go.” She walks backward a few steps, keeping her eyes on us, then presses her fingers to her lips and tips them forward, blowing on them.
“Catch it, Tulip.” I jiggle her in my arms.
Tulane reaches out her little hands and claps them together, giggling that she’s caught air in her tiny fingers.
“Now pat Daddy’s cheek,” I softly command.
She smacks my cheeks a few times, then wraps her arms around my neck. I glance back at Ruthie, who waves one more time, then turns away from us.
“Tell Mommy you love her,” I whisper to Tulane as Ruthie picks up her pace, rushing through the crowd until I lose sight of her.
Tulane waves, although Ruthie is long gone.