19
Charlotte
My stomach tumbles over and over like a lone T-shirt in a dryer.
He’s here, with me, together again, and I’m carrying his baby. Only, he doesn’t know that yet. I need to tell him now.
I think I’m gonna throw up.
I buy myself some time when he walks me back to the private box and I introduce him to Austin and Jane.
Jane’s eyes widen to saucers, and she can’t take her gaze off him. Austin notices and narrows his eyes at Caleb.
Caleb doesn’t seem to notice anything as his gaze roams over Austin’s shoulders into the seats below. “Is that Charlie?”
I look over my shoulder and spot Charlie and Anthony cheering some double play on the field. I smile. “Yes, that’s him.”
“Can I meet him?”
I hesitate. I hadn’t planned to introduce him to Charlie, but considering he’s the father of Charlie’s younger sibling, I really can’t avoid that.
“Sure.”
Jane grabs my arm. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“You’re making this awkward,” I whisper. She lets go immediately, but ushers me to the side.
“I’m sorry, Char. But this is a lot right now.”
“I know, Jane. I’m just as shocked as you are.”
“You don’t look like it.”
Despite my stomach feeling queasy, she’s right, I’m not nervous. My body feels at ease. “I guess I’m happy I found him and can finally tell him.”
Jane squeezes my hand. “He’s coming.”
“Is everything okay?”
I turn and smile at him. “Yes. It was Charlie’s birthday two days ago and we’re just discussing when the best time is to bring out the cupcakes.”
“His birthday,” Caleb looks over at him again, and his eyes lock with Charlie’s. My heart beats faster and suddenly there’s a strange tension in the room.
“Come. I’ll introduce you to him.”
Caleb follows me down the aisle, down two steps to the seats where Charlie and Anthony are sitting. “Charlie, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. This is Caleb. Caleb, this is Charlie.”
The two of them stare at each other and my heart kicks up again. I can’t explain the feeling, can only compare it to the feelings before writing an exam— nervous, excited, unsure which questions will be on the test or, in this case, how Charlie or even Caleb will react. It shouldn’t matter, but it does. A lot.
I hold my breath when Charlie doesn’t say anything. Finally, Caleb speaks first. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Charlie.” He sticks out his hand, and Charlie slowly leans forward to shake it.
“And this is Anthony,” I continue.
“Pleasure, Anthony.”
Both boys stare at Caleb, but the man doesn’t seem uncomfortable with the attention.
“I hear it’s your birthday week.”
“Yes. I’m eleven now.”
“I would have guessed thirteen,” says Caleb, and Charlie sits a little taller.
The crowd around us jumps to their feet as the ball soars into the outfield. A Lions player throws his bat down and we all hold our breath, watching if the ball will make it over the wall.
“It’s a home run!” shouts Charlie and jumps up and down. “A two-run homer!”
Caleb smiles at the boys as they hug each other and when they stop celebrating, he asks, “Do you want to meet Paul Cafferty after the game?”
“Are you serious?” asks Charlie.
“I am.”
“Mom,” his eyes plead. “Can I go? ”
Caleb turns to me. “I can take him to the locker rooms when the game is over.”
“Ah…”
“Please, Mom!” Charlie folds his hands as though in prayer. I’m sure he’d drop to his knees if he could.
“That’s fine, but I’ve got to go with him.”
“Of course,” says Caleb. “We can all go. Your friends, too.”
“Oh, my God,” says Anthony. “I think I’m gonna die.”
When we head back inside the box, Austin and Jane wait at one of the cocktail tables for us. Jane crosses her arms, but Austin’s holding a bear and eating pizza. “Caleb has invited us all to the players’ locker room after the game.”
“What?” asks Austin through a mouthful of pizza.
Jane raises an eyebrow, but Austin accepts exuberantly. “That’s awesome, dude. Thanks.”
“So, are you a manager with the team?” asks Jane.
“No.” Caleb doesn’t explain further, and Jane uncrosses and crosses her arms again. It’s a teacher move that she’s still waiting for an answer, but it’s not as effective on Caleb as it is with sixth graders.
I also wonder why Caleb doesn’t expand on his answer. Sage mentioned he was some sort of manager—an associate manager, or maybe a PR manager—I don’t recall exactly.
Besides, this isn’t the time for an interrogation, and he doesn’t owe us anything. He’s just trying to be nice.
“Would you like to stay and have something to eat with us?” asks Austin. “The food here’s pretty good.”
Caleb looks at his watch and his gaze drifts momentarily to my face. “I have to pop in and say hello to some other guests, but I’ll meet you back here after the game to walk you downstairs.”
“Sure.” My voice is lower than I intended, so I paste a smile onto my lips. “See you later.”
He nods, but holds my gaze before finally turning and walking away.
I avoid Jane’s stare as I’m not prepared to answer questions and sit next to Charlie to watch the rest of the game instead. But as soon as I sit, Charlie starts, “Who was that? Is he a baseball player? He looks tall and his hands are really big. I think he’s a player, but I don’t recognize him.”
“He wore a nice watch,” Anthony pipes in. “He’s definitely a player. We should look him up. What’s his name, Aunt Charlotte?”
“He’s not a player, at least I don’t know if he was before. Now, he’s, uh… I’m not really sure. But his name is Caleb Consuelos.”
“That sounds familiar. I think he was a player. Yeah, he was a player for sure.” The boys agree that Caleb is someone important. I’m starting to think they may be right and now this whole situation seems even more complicated than before.
Jane and Austin remain in the box while I sit with the boys for the next two hours. They have their heads together and they talk quietly. I shouldn’t think it’s about me, but the thought persists, and it makes me uncomfortable.
It's the last batter and the Lions are losing 2-1 against the Jets. It’s the bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, two out, and the stadium is on its feet. We need one run to tie, two to win, and Casey is still on the mound.
“What do we do, Mom? Do we cheer for Uncle Casey?”
“In this case, baby, we stay neutral.” The game rides on this last at bat, and I envy Casey’s calmness as my fingernails press into the palm of my hand.
The first pitch is a strike and the crowd boos. The Lions batter hits the dust from his shoes and sets up for the next pitch. That one’s a strike too, and the crowd erupts into louder jeering. “Come on, get a hit,” someone shouts across the aisle.
Casey takes his time, stepping off the mound, and fixing his cap, before getting into his pitching stance. He throws the next pitch.
The batter swings and launches the ball to center field .
The outfield runs back, back to the wall, but he has room. He easily makes the catch and salutes Casey at the mound.
The Jets win the game.
The stadium erupts into boos and angry shouts. “Bases loaded and we couldn’t drive one in!” someone shouts beside us.
Fans throw their drinks and wave their fists in frustration. A man’s voice carries over the boos. “Stay in the box until the crowd leaves.”
It’s Caleb.
I turn to look at him over my shoulder and he’s got his arms crossed and is glaring at anyone who looks our way. I guess they haven’t forgotten our earlier cheers for Casey.
Caleb’s blue suit stretches across his biceps and his white shirt is perfectly pressed, except for the top button, which is open. His tie is gone and a thin platinum chain peeks out from his exposed collar bone. His throat stretches as he glares across the aisles.
My stomach flips again, but this time it’s not from unease but desire. A most inconvenient time to want to pull the man down and kiss him. But these hormones have me wanting to do just that.
By the time I pull my gaze away, the last of the fans are leaving and these last stragglers seem less pissed off than the earlier ones.
“Follow me,” says Caleb. “We’ll take the private elevator to the ground floor.”
I nod and usher the boys out of their seats. “Come on, guys. Let’s go.”
They’re completely oblivious to the tension around them, but I’m thankful that Caleb is here. Jane and Austin wait at the entrance of the suite, and we all follow Caleb away from the crowd to the end of the hallway. There’s a security guard at the elevator and he nods at Caleb, who holds the door open for us as we get inside. “We shouldn’t have any problems from this point.”
Austin is bouncing on his feet, presumably as excited, if not more so than the boys, to be visiting the Lions’s locker room. His palpable excitement puts Jane in a better mood and she’s smiling, too.
When the doors open, there’s a sea of reporters and cameras along the narrow hallway. Caleb pulls out a card from his suit jacket and it opens a door to another hallway. This one is clear of any media.
“Damn. This feels like a movie,” Austin whispers.
Caleb doesn’t reply, but his smile tells me he heard Austin’s remark. We turn to the right and walk through another set of doors. These lead us into a room right next to the player’s locker room.
The room is swarming with players in all states of undress. Unbothered by their lack of clothing, the players walk around reporters and cameras, setting up their interviews. “This is insane,” I whisper, mostly to myself, but Caleb hears. “It’s what they’re used to.”
“I don’t think I could ever get used to that.”
A player pulls down the waist of his pants and is about to expose himself completely. “Is that Cafferty—"
I cover Charlie’s mouth with my hand and spin him around. Jane covers Anthony’s eyes. “I think this may be a little more than we had hoped for.”
Caleb cringes. “Sorry. I’m so used to it, I wasn’t thinking. Wait in the next room and I’ll bring Cafferty out when he’s ready.”
“That’s a good idea.” We usher the boys into another room, but Jane looks back over her shoulder.
“Really?” Austin deadpans.
“What? I was just checking that you were behind us.”
“Of course you were, darling.”
Jane presses her lips together, hiding her smile.
Anthony and Charlie talk excitedly about what they’ll ask Cafferty when they meet him, each boy arguing over who will ask him what.
A few minutes later, Cafferty himself appears at the door in a pair of gym shorts and a white T-shirt, a gold chain with his number over his chest. “Hey, I hear there are a couple of big fans in here to see me.”
Charlie’s, and Anthony’s chatter stops, and their mouths hang open. Cafferty rubs his mouth to hide a laugh, but he’s loving his star power. “Uh, we’re big fans,” says Austin, stumbling on his way to shake Cafferty’s hand. Charlie pulls a baseball out of his jacket pocket and holds it up to Cafferty. He doesn’t say anything though, so Austin adds, “Do you mind signing the ball for us?”
“Sure thing. Who should I make it out to?”
“That’s Charlie. It was his birthday a couple of days ago.”
“Your birthday, huh? Well, I think we can do better than a ball. How would you like me to sign your jersey, too?”
Charlie’s eyes widen and he immediately turns around and looks over his shoulder as Cafferty takes a sharpie to his jersey. He pens ‘HBD Charlie, your friend Paul Cafferty.’
“Thank you so much,” I say, walking up to them. “That means a lot.”
He tips his baseball cap to the boys and walks out of the room, shaking Caleb’s hand.
The second Cafferty leaves, the boys snap out of their shock and jump up and down, saying they can’t believe they just met Paul Cafferty. “Oh, my God, he signed my shirt. Paul Cafferty signed my shirt.”
“That’s so cool, dude. No one’s gonna believe us at school. We should have taken a picture.”
“I got his autograph. They’ll believe us. ”
I turn away from the boys and lock eyes with Caleb. He’s smiling, but it falters when our eyes meet. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
“I have Charlie, and we all planned—”
Austin interrupts me. “We’ll take care of Charlie. You should speak to Caleb alone.”
“Are you sure?”
Austin leans in. “You may not have this opportunity again,” he whispers.
He’s right. Although I’d rather stall right now, I may not get another chance.
“Dinner sounds great.”
Caleb’s eyes roam over my body and instead of feeling self-conscious, it makes me tingle all over. Forget dinner. I’d rather go to bed.