Chapter Twenty #2
Jake let Nico hold his hand, and he blinked away tears, his head still turned to the window.
“Not now. But for a long time I went through the motions. When I got traded to the Caps, it sucked. I didn’t care about the game anymore, and now I had to come up here and smile and fake it with new people.
I was so done. Then it changed. Thanks to you.
The team. The fans. I really thought we could do it—make it to the postseason. And you guys still can. But I won’t.”
Nico rubbed his thumb over Jake’s hand, wanting to say so much, but afraid to interrupt.
“I’m getting what I deserve for taking it all for granted.”
“What?” Okay, forget staying quiet. “You don’t deserve this. No way.”
“I didn’t appreciate what I had,” Jake said softly.
“We both know guys who bust their balls and never make it out of the minors. Kids who dream of making it to the Show. Not just making it, but staying for years. Having good long careers playing a game we’re supposed to love.
I stopped loving it. Stopped loving everything. ”
“But you said things changed when you came here, right?”
Turning his head on the pillow, Jake swiped at the tears escaping his eyes. “When I started loving you, I loved the game again.”
Nico was pretty sure the floor had just evaporated and he was falling through space, his heart pounding in his ears. “You love me?” he whispered.
“Of course. I honestly never thought I’d love anyone again. I didn’t want to. But you’re undeniable.”
Laughing, Nico said, “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment? Since you love me and all.” Jake loves me. The giddy rush of hearing the words had his head buzzing. “I fell in love with you when I was thirteen. Never really stopped.”
Jake squeezed Nico’s hand. “Now I kind of feel like a pervert, but what can you do?” He laughed, and then a fresh burst of tears welled in his eyes. “I want to play. I want to get back on the field. But I never will.”
“I know. Shh. I’m sorry.” With his free hand, Nico brushed back Jake’s greasy, rumpled hair.
“When I was traded, I sat there in the manager’s office thinking about how that had been my last game with San Fran and I didn’t even know it.
Hadn’t been given the chance to appreciate it.
And now that seems like nothing, because yesterday was my last game ever.
I should have savored it more. The crack of the bat on contact.
Rounding the bases and hearing the crowd cheer—feeling them roar in my bones.
Crouching behind the plate in the dirt, giving the signs, the whole field laid out in front of me.
I’ll never see that view again, not from that low, from right there.
” A sob escaped. “It’s over, and I don’t want it to be. ”
Nico didn’t have any words, so he leaned over and kissed Jake’s salty lips, then held him close, letting him get it out, murmuring little soothing noises. He was leaning so far off the chair it was about to tip over, but he dug in his feet. He wasn’t moving.
After a minute, Jake eased back, swiping at his eyes and laughing awkwardly. “I guess I have some feelings about all this.”
“You’re allowed, you know. You don’t always have to be the strong one. If it gets too much, you can say armadillo too. You know what I mean?”
Jake’s smile grew, and he brushed back the curl that never wanted to do what Nico told it. “Yes, I know.” He shifted and sucked in his breath, grimacing.
“Okay?” Nico reached for Jake’s leg as if he could do something to fix it.
Inhaling forcefully, Jake nodded. “Think the pain killers are wearing off. This might be an armadillo moment.”
“I’ll get the nurse.” Nico moved to stand, still holding Jake’s hand, and Jake tightened his grip.
“Not yet. Stay. She’ll be back soon. I can take it for another minute or two.”
Pulling the chair right up to the bed, Nico nodded. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“Sweetheart, of course you’re coming home with me.
” Helen Fitzgerald stood with hands on hips, wearing running shoes and capri pants with a blue golf shirt tucked in.
Her thick blond hair had gray roots, and her eyes crinkled the same way Jake’s did.
Nico had scooted around to the far side of the bed so she could have the chair, but she didn’t seem in any rush to use it.
“Mom, I’m still technically part of the team, and I’ll see the trainers every day for physio. The brass has to pretend there’s a chance.”
“Of course there’s a chance.” She sighed. “I’m not saying it’s likely, but stranger things have happened.” Her light British accent was musical to Nico’s ears.
“Okay,” Jake said, clearly placating her. “Regardless, I’m not going home with you.”
“And what? Seeing the trainers every day is all well and good, but how will you get there? Who knows when you’ll be able to drive again?”
“They’ll make house calls at first.”
“To where?” She motioned with her hands. “Hmm? That hotel? It’s been months and you haven’t even found a place.”
Jake rubbed his scruffy face. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“But you need someone to take care of you. Cook for you, help you to the bathroom. I can’t leave you alone. I’m sure we can get a two-room suite.”
“He can stay with me,” Nico said before he could think twice. Helen looked at him as if she’d forgotten he was there. She smiled kindly. “Oh, how sweet. What a good teammate. But I’m not sure you know what you’re getting into. My bullheaded son’s going to need a lot of attention.”
Nico caught Jake’s gaze. Jake was just watching him and didn’t seem pissed, but Nico still probably should have kept his big mouth shut. Jake raised an eyebrow, as if he was asking something. Nico was pretty sure he knew what it was, and he nodded.
Jake said, “Mom? Don’t get excited, okay?”
Screwing up her face as if she’d chewed a lemon, Helen replied, “My son’s been seriously injured. What on Earth would I have to be excited about?”
Jake reached out, and Nico took his hand, threading their fingers together, his mouth going dry. Helen knew Jake was gay, but this still might be a—
“Oh my God.” Her face lit up, and she actually pressed her palms to her cheeks. “Are you serious? I’m in no mood for cruel jokes, young man.”
Smiling, Jake squeezed Nico’s fingers. “I’m dead serious. Nico and I are together.”
“Well, isn’t that wonderful news?” She shrugged up her shoulders, beaming. “It’s about time.” Her gaze examined Nico again, much more closely this time. “You’re quite young, aren’t you?”
“Um…” Nico looked to Jake, who huffed.
“Mother, if you get picky now—”
“No! I’m delighted. You’ve been acting like a grumpy old man for too long. Some youthful vitality and optimism is just what you need. Thank you, Nico.”
He hesitated. “You’re welcome?” Was that really all she was going to say? Was she really okay with it? He marveled as she beamed at him and kissed Jake’s forehead. It seemed she was not only okay with it, but truly thrilled. Nico couldn’t wipe the smile from his own face.
Helen plopped into the guest chair. “Now I can stop worrying. Excellent. I really didn’t want to move here for who knows how long.
I’m chair of the activities committee for the seniors’ group, you know.
Nico, I’m sure you’ll take good care of him.
Don’t let him give you any grief. Give me your phone number and you can text or call anytime for moral support.
” She pulled out her smartphone, thumbs at the ready.
Trying not to smile, Nico rattled off his number, and Jake groaned. “No, no. The two of you don’t get to start complaining about me behind my back.”
Helen tapped her screen and absently said, “We’ll do it right in front of your face, sweetheart.
” She jabbed the phone and put it back in her purse.
“There. We’re all set. Nico, tell me a little bit about yourself.
You’ve been having a wonderful season. Of course I have to give catchers the number-one slot, but pitching is the second hardest job in baseball, I think. ”
“Pitching? Don’t you mean bowling?” Jake asked with a twinkle in his blue eyes.
Still holding Jake’s hand, Nico looked between them. “I’m not following.”
Helen rolled her eyes artfully. “It was decades ago, but Jake still loves to tell this story.”
“Stories. Plural.” He addressed Nico. “Okay, a neighbor gave Mom a pair of tickets to a game, and we drove down to Toronto in the morning. I was around twelve. I’d been to a couple of games over the years, but there was still nothing like it.
Mom bought me a hot dog and peanuts and cotton candy, and we had amazing seats by first base. ”
“Sounds good so far,” Nico said.
“It was very good!” Helen crossed her arms with a theatrical, long-suffering sigh. “Do you know how much they charge for concessions? It’s highway robbery. Even worse now, of course.”
Jake went on. “So, Toronto was playing Detroit. Our pitcher didn’t get off to a good start, and she starts complaining—loudly—about how they should take out the bowler and put in another.”
Nico asked, “Is that like in cricket?”
“Exactly.” Jake grinned. “So she’s going on and on about the bowler, and everyone around us is like, ‘Who is this crazy British lady, and why is she talking about bowling?’ Meanwhile, I’m giving people apologetic looks and hissing to her that it’s the pitcher in baseball.”
Helen chuckled. “Poor little Jake, so embarrassed by his mother.”
“But it gets better.” As he spoke, Jake rubbed the back of Nico’s hand with his thumb, sending warmth up Nico’s arm.
“They did replace the Toronto pitcher, and we started turning it around. Our catcher was on a smokin’ hot streak.
You know the type, when just seeing him in the on-deck circle gives you hives. ”
“Yup,” Nico answered.