Chapter 24
24
We can’t plan life. All we can do is be available for it.
Lauryn Hill
Two weeks later
Mr. Curveball: Voice Notes Sent:
March 14, 2024 8:15 p.m.
“Hey, Ella…I’ve been dying to get you on the phone but with our s-schedules so out of sync since New York, I thought I’d just record myself talking and send it your way. I considered writing you, but then I remembered how much I hate emails. Like, d-despise them. My inbox is always overflowing with travel schedules or deal memos and things like that. I’m s-sure I wouldn’t hate getting an email from you…but I would rather hear your voice. Anyway, I was just over here wondering about your day and how it went. I was also thinking about how much I wish we could have stayed in that hotel room a little longer.
“I recorded that message probably ten times before I hit send. S-so, I hope this take was the best.”
Me: Voice Notes Sent:
March 15, 2024 12:01 p.m.
“First of all, I’ll offer my apologies in advance if this comes out like complete word salad—I am running on three hours of sleep. But I did watch your game today, and you won! I’ll admit that I have never been more drawn to a little patch of raised dirt in my life. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Apart from that, I was completely lost for about eighty percent of the game.
“But after it was over, I did find this Baseball 101 YouTube channel that’s run by a former pro turned minor league coach, and I subscribed. I’ve already seen enough to know that this might be the most complicated sport ever dreamed up. I’m gonna have to take notes if I want any of it to stick.
“Also, I guess I’ll tell you now that after we met at the stadium that night, I ordered a biography of Jackie Robinson and last week, I started reading a little of it each night before bed. Soooo yeah…that’s how my day was, apart from several hours of grueling rehearsals. I did catch a second wind, though, when I saw your voice messages. So, please keep these coming? I always want to hear from you, even if we can’t find time to talk on the phone…
“By the way, how’s your arm feeling? It looked like you strained something in the last inning?
“Okay. Last one, I swear! I just wanted to say that I think I’d sleep better with you in my bed. Can we run that back sometime?”
Mr. Curveball: Voice Notes Sent:
March 20, 2024 9:00 a.m.
“I will gladly come to your bed. Anytime. Anyplace. If I can get to you, I’m there. Only I can’t promise you more sleep.
“I’m interested in that little n-notebook of yours, Dream Girl. I want to know what baseball facts s-strike you as worthy of writing down. By the way, you know you can ask me anything you want to know, right? I could be like your little baseball encyclopedia. I would love that, actually.
“You mentioned rehearsals…how are they going for you guys? Rodney sent me a s-short clip of you in a dance studio, and I’m embarrassed to admit how many times I’ve watched it at this point—could probably do some of the moves myself by now. And please don’t get mad at him for sending it because then he’d probably stop…and that would make me sad. You wouldn’t want that, right? Besides, I can’t help that I love the way you move, and the way you sound. And…n-now this voice note is taking a turn. Which means it’s probably a good thing I have to go get ready to meet the team. After we close out this series, we have one day off and then we’re on the road for another five. We don’t play in New York until June. But let me know when you’re back in LA. I’d love to run it all back, s-sooner than later.
“To answer your question, the arm is fine. I over-rotated on the last pitch, but it’s nothing an ice bath and a TENS machine can’t fix.”
Me: Voice Notes Sent:
March 20, 2024 11:00 p.m.
“One of the stats I wrote down is from last year. Apparently Black players only made up six point one percent of the Major League in 2023. I was shocked but also not at all by this. I imagine the number’s even lower when it comes to starting pitchers, like you. Does that ever make you feel invisible?
“Rehearsals are exhausting, but I love this part of the work. Everything’s a mess before it starts to come together. But it’s a beautiful mess, like an artist’s studio, all the elements of a masterpiece are flung all over the place, they just haven’t come together yet—if that makes sense at all.
“My tour dates start in June and we open in LA. So, you and I will be like two ships passing in the night. But…and right now that’s a big but…there’s a slight possibility that I could get back to Cali for a few days in the middle of April when Google tells me you’ll have a short stretch of home games?”
Mr. Curveball: Voice Notes Sent:
March 21, 2024 10:00 a.m.
“I wouldn’t say those numbers make me feel invisible, no. I know you said you’re reading about Jackie Robinson. You ever seen that movie, 42? I’ve probably watched it a hundred times by now. W-well, in case you haven’t, there’s this scene where they’re at a game. It’s after Jackie makes the Brooklyn Dodgers, coming out of the Negro Leagues. The team’s manager, this guy named Ben Chapman, he was racist and loud and proud with it too. So, anyway, at this game Chapman decides to taunt Jackie, starts calling him the n-word over and over while he’s out on the f-field—just trying to humiliate him and get a rise. And for a while, Jackie just absorbs it. You can see the rage just bubbling up inside him until eventually, he explodes. He goes to the dugout and busts his bat on the back wall.
“Anyway, I know it’s not the fifties anymore, but some times more than others, I get glimpses of that kind of unspoken rule that Chapman was trying to get across—baseball belongs to ‘them.’ And I’m just allowed to be here. Now th-that can make you feel like the opposite of invisible. Makes you feel like you’re s-sticking out like a sore thumb.
“Well, I did not mean to go that deep on you like that. It’s not something I’ve really talked about with anyone before. Outside of my grandparents at least. In lighter news, I love to hear that about your tour rehearsals. Maybe one day I can come and watch you. Also, you are correct! I have a stretch of home games starting in two weeks. So if you can make it work with your schedule, I would love nothing more than to fly you out here. Most game days I’m free until the afternoon when I have to get to the stadium for warm-ups. And then after the games, I’d be yours. So, think about it and let me know.
“One more thing. I watched our music video for the first time the other day. I couldn’t bring myself to watch it before. I really liked dancing in the rain with you.”
Me: Voice Notes Sent:
March 22, 2024 12:01 a.m.
“Miles, I hope you feel like you can talk to me about anything. I don’t exactly know what we’re doing, sending these messages back and forth, but I feel like whatever this is, I need it. And maybe you do too?
“I said all that to say that I get what you mean about feeling hyper-visible. Or like you’re just a visitor in someone else’s space. It’s scary how many times I’ve felt the same way. This one time I was on set for one of those “Next in Music” ensemble magazine covers. And I get how shallow this may sound in the grand scheme of things, but this shoot was for Rolling Stone, so it was huge for me at the time. But I was the only talent on the shoot with “textured hair” and a “medium/dark skin tone.” That’s how they put it at least. Naturally, the entire hair and makeup crew was terrified of touching me and prepared to do only the bare minimum. I’d tried to get permission to bring Jamie and Sheryl with me, but this was a fully sponsored shoot, so everyone on set worked for the brand.
“I feel like I’m in the weeds here, and it can all feel so vapid and unimportant compared to Jackie Robinson’s experience, and even yours. But so much of my career has been walking into rooms filled with people who are fully empowered, but either completely uninterested or totally underprepared to do what it takes to support me. You can probably guess how the final cover image turned out. I was rightfully dragged by Black Twitter for having a ‘hard wig,’ and that part I can laugh at. But when I was accused of skin bleaching because the photographer’s lighting was overexposed and the makeup was off by a solid two shades, I’m embarrassed thinking back on how long I cried about it. None of the shot callers behind the shoot took ownership of how they fell short. And the fans were relentless at making me the butt of the joke. Granted, at the time I was twenty-two. An adult, but just barely. I really believed back then that it was enough that I could write and sing and that somehow the rest would just fall into place. But I learned fast that this business runs on excess—good and bad. ‘Enough’ doesn’t exist.
“And now I’ve bared my soul, haven’t I? Well, I have some really good news. I asked Angelo to help me negotiate for a short rehearsal break in April and he did it! So, it looks like I’ll be seeing you in two weeks. If that still sounds good?
“And now it’s time I admit that the song I sang at your benefit gala, ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody,’ was definitely a deliberate choice. But I didn’t want to just dance with ‘somebody,’ I wanted you.”
Mr. Curveball: Voice Notes Sent:
March 22, 2024 11:52 p.m.
“I am angry for you about that whole photo shoot s-situation. And I can only imagine it’s just the tip of the iceberg too. I don’t take for granted the fact that as a male athlete, my looks don’t really impact my success. But for what it’s worth, and I’m not trying to minimize anything you just said—but I have n-never seen a bad photo of you. And this is still my take even after googling that Rolling Stone shoot. Haters will say I’m biased, because I’ve had a thing for you for a while and all. But, objectively speaking, even with a hard wig and bad lighting, I still get chills lookin’ at you. B-but to be serious, I’m amazed at how you bear the weight of all the public scrutiny. It doesn’t stop. If nobody’s told you since I last said it, I’ll say it again—Ella, you’re strong. I wish you didn’t have to be as strong as you are. I wish I could make things softer for you, somehow.
“On another note, does Angelo need a kidney? Or does he know anybody, a cousin m-maybe, who needs a kidney? If you ask and he s-says yes, tell him I have one up for grabs. And your timing couldn’t be better with the good news, because the team took an L today. It’s not just that we lost that’s getting to me either. We play more than a hundred and fifty games a year, so losing is bound to happen. But losing to the Rangers is another level. They’re the team that snagged the World Series from us last year after the “locker-room brawl” heard around the w-world.
“I don’t know how much you do or don’t know about what went down with that. I have a feeling you know at least a little bit, given what you were saying when I walked back in at the end of the m-meeting at Janet’s. But I’ve never been in a lower place than before and after that series. It’s like one minute you’re on the highest of all highs, at the top of your game and leading your team to greatness. Then suddenly a rug gets pulled out from under you and everything and everyone you put so much trust in just s-slips through your hands. Of course, the fight was on camera, so everyone saw me throw the first punch. No one but me heard what Morales said to provoke it though—and I know that’s never an excuse. But in this case it was a reason.
“Anyway, I paid my fine and took my suspension and the team took our L at the end of what had been a phenomenal season. Then Morales got traded, and I swear, with everything in me, I wished it had been me. I wanted out of the contract and out of this city so bad. It felt like there were cameras hiding behind every corner in LA ready to get pics of my shame. And everything about this city s-screamed out the life Monica and I had built here together. All the places we went together, I started to picture her there with him. Felt like I was losing it. So I numbed it for a while, got defiant. I figured, if our marriage didn’t stop her from stepping out, then why should the divorce push me in and isolate me? So, I forced myself to be less of a homebody—went out on a lot of dates. And whatever got printed, I pretended not to c-care.
“Then that day in Janet’s office, after hearing the things you said about me, it was the first time I stopped to think about the way my image no longer reflected who I was, or at least who I was before. At first I thought you were just an asshole, if I’m honest. But the more I sat with it, the less I could blame you. I put myself in your shoes and realized I’d think the same things about me. But I couldn’t figure out why I was so mad. And it was Gabe who gave me that light bulb m-moment. I was so heated over it because since everything went down, you were the first person I’d met whose opinion really got under my skin, before I even knew you. And that surprised me, big time. It pissed me off too.
“Then tonight, when we lost to the Rangers, on the way back to the locker room some heckler shouted some cheap shots from the stands and I just wanted to blink and be home. And I wanted you to be there. So I get here, and I open your message to find out you will be here in two weeks. And now I can’t stop smiling. I don’t know what’s going on with us, either, but you’re right, I need it too.”
Me: Voice Notes Sent:
March 23, 2024 8:25 a.m.
“Miles, I know I said it once but it will never be enough. I’m sorry for judging you. I knew better, even then. After five minutes with you backstage I could tell I was in some big trouble because you weren’t going to be someone I could easily write off. It had less to do with how attracted to you I was and everything to do with…just the way I felt standing there alone with you in the wings. Maybe you can’t tell, but I’m an anxious person—kidding, how could you not tell? But being with you backstage for that short time was like this still, quiet calm in the wildest storm. It rattled me. And everything that happened afterward threw me for such a loop I couldn’t even process the ‘you’ I’d met with the ‘you’ I was being linked to in the blogs. So, I hope you can understand that the things I said about you were just me projecting my own frustrations. And I hate that you felt you had to wear any of them, even for a moment.
“I’m not judging you, either, about what happened in that locker room. Obviously, I’ll say the obligatory ‘I don’t condone violence’ bit—but I don’t condone fuckery either. And it sounds like Morales and Monica were up to nothing but that, which I’d say is an emotional violence given their relationship to you. And then of course there’s the whole, ‘you do the crime, you do the time’ thing. It sounds like you’re still reckoning with the aftermath. As someone who’s been cheated on more times than I’ll ever be able to count, I know what it does to a person to have that trust broken. There were times I wanted to act out too. Times I wanted to test out other facets of me I felt like I’d denied before. Especially since I’d married Elliot before I even knew what I wanted from myself, let alone a partner. And when it was all said and done, I didn’t trust myself anymore at all. If I’m honest, sometimes I still don’t.
“But the one thing I am proud of is knowing when I’d had my fill and that it was time to leave—that staying would be the easier route, sure. But then, how could I respect myself? Even though it’s been really fucking hard. And even though my own mother takes his side. Anyway, again—that’s a topic for a day that ends in ‘never.’ I’m sorry for what you and I have been through. And I’m even more sorry that anything I said or did could have added to the pain of it for you. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think your image needs rehabilitating. I look at images of you often—and you get no complaints from me.”
Mr. Curveball: Voice Notes Sent:
March 28, 2024 11:52 p.m.
“I’m sorry it’s been a few days since I’ve gotten back to you. We’ve been on the road with some tough losses and the schedule’s been really hectic. But for whatever it’s worth, I wanted to tell you that I’m proud of you. For getting out of that situation with Elliot. And I hope you’re not blaming yourself for any of the things you put up with either. I mean, that’s what love looks like, right? Endurance. But loving yourself can also look like walking away.
“I’m also really sorry to hear that about your mom. Because of my own mom, I always try to give people’s parents the benefit of the doubt. I figure everybody’s just doing the best they can with what they’ve got—and we’re not all working with the same tools. But some parents aren’t worthy of the title. I hope she does right by you in the long run, Dream Girl. You deserve nothing less.”
Me: Voice Notes Sent:
April 1, 2024 8:20 p.m.
“Miles, can I ask you a personal question?”
Mr. Curveball: Voice Note Sent:
April 2, 2024 12:52 a.m.
“Of course. You can ask me anything. Everything.”
Me: Voice Note Sent:
April 3, 2024 9:27 a.m.
“Will you tell me about your mom?”
Mr. Curveball: Voice Notes Sent:
April 4, 2024 12:05 a.m.
“My mom’s n-n-ame is Maria Evelyn. And she works at a restaurant here in Cali as general manager. I don’t talk about her in interviews, but that’s by her request. If it was up to me, I’d shout her from the rooftops because I’m so damn proud of that woman.
“She turned s-sixteen on the day I was born, and it was a really rough go for her for a long time after that. To this day, I don’t know who my biological father is. I don’t think she would tell me if I asked either. But I do know my grandparents tried everything to keep us together at the beginning. But having a baby that young was too much to handle for her. And I love my grandparents, don’t get me wrong. I’m h-happy to be here too. But I also know them and their ways, and I can’t imagine my mom felt like she could ask them to help her find another option, outside of having me and raising me…if you know what I mean.
“S-sometimes I lose sleep thinking about how trapped she probably felt in that situation. She ended up moving out before I turned one. And my grandparents had a hard time tracking her down for a long time after that. But sometimes I got birthday cards, and when the phone would ring and they’d pick up but no one was talking on the other end, I always felt like it was her. I was sixteen when I m-met her for the first time. She had been clean for a year at that point, had gotten a job at a restaurant and was living in a group home in the Bronx. I tried my best to keep in touch with her as much as I could. I found out she stuttered like me, and we kind of bonded over it a little. She’s the one who taught me about tapping my leg, go figure.
“But after I made the pros, I heard she relapsed and was living on the streets. It took us weeks to find her but when Pop and I finally did, she agreed to go back to rehab and she’s been s-sober now for six years.
“You might be wondering why the mom of an athlete who makes the kind of m-money I do works at a restaurant. And trust me, I had to eventually force myself to s-stop asking her the same question. But now I get it, why she wants things this way. I don’t know if this crazy life I have would mess up the stability she’s got going for herself these days. She says what she’s doing works for her, and I respect that.
“S-so…that’s my mom in a nutshell. I’ll text a picture of us from when I was in high school. Couldn’t tell me nothin’ about that haircut back then.
“Now it’s your turn. Tell me about the woman that birthed the Elladee Robinson, aka Ella Simone…”
When the photograph of Miles and his mother comes through, I instantly have to catch my breath. He’s right, his Caesar fade with shiny waves probably did drive the girls wild—with a smile and dimples like that to boot, I probably would have risked it all for his attention back then myself.
In the photo, Miles and his mom are at what looks like his high school graduation. Their matching almond-shaped eyes and twin dimples etched deep in their cheeks instantly give away the family connection. Her head stops just below his shoulder as he proudly drapes his arm around her. And she stands there beaming at the camera in a bright yellow sundress, face aglow with an emotion I can only describe as deep satisfaction. It strikes me that I can’t tell who was proudest in this moment, Maria Evelyn for her son’s accomplishment, or Miles for all the obstacles his mom had to overcome to make it there that day.
My heart tugs for this younger version of Miles, whose compassion shines through, even in this years-old photo, in the exact same ways I’ve had the privilege of seeing for myself face-to-face. And I realize just how skittish I’ve been during this back-and-forth we’ve kept up these past few weeks. Especially now that I find myself leaning further into all the ways I want this man—physically, emotionally, intellectually—even despite the weathered, frightened parts of me that scream for me to pull back.
But the Miles I see in this picture has ignited a tiny spark of relief, flickering with possibility that maybe this time I have met a man who is just as he portrays himself to be. That maybe the beautiful parts of him that I’m getting to know are not just a performance. Maybe they are true and constant—because they are who he’s always been.
Me: Voice Notes Sent:
April 4, 2024 9:27 a.m.
“Wow, Miles. I think now I understand why you have such a soothing presence. You learned early how to be your own calm in a storm. Your mom and grandmother seem like phenomenal women in their own ways, and it’s no wonder you started the foundation to honor them. And looking at this picture, it’s clear to me why you’re so beautiful…you come by it honest.
“Soooo…you want to know about my mother? Miss Black America 1990? She is…perfection personified. Never a hair or a sofa cushion out of place. Or else, I’d get this pursed-lip look of disapproval that never failed to make me feel antsy, like my skin was zipped on too tight. That’s how I felt most of the time growing up in our house, if I’m telling you the truth. Like, if only I could let down my hair or open a window or go one size up on the dresses she always picked for me to wear to Sunday service, then maybe I could actually breathe.
“At first, she loved that I could sing. I think because it was a cute party trick she could pull out to show off to her friends. And my dad was so stoic and removed. He was the kind of husband and father who prided himself in providing material stability but not much more. So my singing was inoffensive enough to them until it became clear that I was going to try to turn it into something more than a hobby. And that was so far out of the question that when I defied them and accepted my admission to Berklee for songwriting instead of UCLA for premed, they cut off contact with me entirely. It was that drastic too. You’d think I was going off to join a sex cult by the way they basically disappeared on me. We went from the picture-perfect family at every social function to Baldwin Hills’ main subject of gossip the summer of 2013. It got back to me that our neighbors were under the impression I’d gone to rehab instead of college that fall.
“Anyway, my mother miraculously started to come around after Elliot and I announced our marriage and got the Grammy nomination. I always suspected she’d gotten too many questions from friends at that point and had grown tired of having to pretend like we’d been in touch. It took me years and a few therapists to fully see that our entire relationship for her has hinged on appearances. And I’ve played along, because I know what it is to be a motherless child. And I guess this is better than none at all…
“But enough about Beverly Robinson. I will see you in one week. I hope you’re ready. I know I am.”
From: [email protected]
Date: April 4, 2024
Subject: Lunch?
Elladee, I regret that our last phone call ended on such a sour note. I accept responsibility for the part I played and want to apologize to you. The next time you’re back home in Los Angeles, I was wondering if you’d let me take you to lunch? There are some things I’d like to discuss with you that it won’t do to say over the phone or by email. Otherwise, I hope you are doing all right.
Your mother