Chapter Twenty-Nine
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LIESEL
W e’re piping frosting on our houses when I get a text from Kayla Carville.
Kayla
Liesel! Your brothers are about to get a phone call that I hope makes you all very happy! Merry Christmas!
I adore Kayla. She can’t know that the idea of my brothers being traded to another Triple-A team is a gut punch of epic proportions. They were about to be put on the extended roster for one of the top teams in baseball. My team! They were practically guaranteed a shot in the Majors this year.
Now, it’s all out of my control.
As much as I thought I was tired of worrying about their fates, I realize now that I’d be sad to see them anywhere else but with me.
Coop nudges me with his foot, and I show him the text while my dad and brothers work on their gingerbread houses. His tight-lipped smile shows more than sympathy. I get the feeling this hurts him, too.
A minute or two later, my brothers get the call from their agent.
Who makes deals on Christmas Day, for Santa’s sake? Sports agents, that’s who.
Logan frowns at the phone, but Lucas’s eyes light up. He answers and switches it to speaker as the two walk through the dining room and down the hall to Dad’s office.
“How are you, Glen?” Logan says just before the door closes.
We don’t hear the rest, but I worry my lip while Coop and I look at each other. He takes my hand under the table, and his warmth stops me from going cold.
Dad’s eyes jump between Coop and me, and I know he knows we know.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” I say.
“Or,” Dad says, piping frosting on a wall of his house. He’s been working on that same wall for minutes. “We could find out now, considering you two clearly know something.”
“I tried, Dad,” I say, guilt thick in my throat.
“Tried what?”
“To get them called up.”
“They just hit their stride last season. They have time.” Confusion tugs his threaded eyebrows up into concern. “Did you think that was your job?”
I frown. “I wanted to watch out for them like Mom said. You were there. We were watching the draft, and she made me promise to watch out for them.”
Dad puts his frosting bag down and trains his eyes on me. “Lee, honey, you’ve always put too much pressure on yourself. You were so worried about them missing out on anything when your mom was sick that you made it your mission to help them however you could. But they didn’t need that.”
“I didn’t do it for them. I did it for her . I saw how hard it was for her to not be involved, so I took over and brought her into every discussion and decision. I wanted her to feel …” I stop, at a loss for words.
“Useful?” Coop asks. His brown eyes swim with empathy.
“Yeah.” I nod. “She loved being a baseball mom. She took so much pride in being the kind of mom who didn’t complain about lugging kids to and from practices and living at the baseball field. And then, it was taken from her. I didn’t want her to feel like she was missing out on even more.”
Dad gets up, rounds the table, and hugs me. “You brought her so much joy.” His words hit my heart like a bass drum. “She would be so proud of you. But you know it was never your responsibility to create training programs for them. All she wanted was for you to use that big brain and heart of yours to keep them from daring each other to jump out of a plane without a parachute. She never expected you to help them make the pros. That’s on them.”
“I know,” I say, even though I don’t know anything of the sort.
“Lee,” Dad says gently, backing up. “Believe me. She would be more than proud of all you’ve done for them. But she’d also be the first person to tell you you’ve done more than enough. It’s time to let them worry about their futures.”
Coop clears his throat, and my dad winces like Coop kicked him.
“And …I recognize I’m guilty of holding on too hard, myself.” Dad says, dropping his eyes. “I shouldn’t have come to your presentation, sweetie. Or called all the teams you interviewed with. Or gotten background checks on the guys you’ve dated?—”
“WHAT?”
He scratches his forehead sheepishly. “I’ve overstepped, and I’m sorry. You’re an impressive young woman. You don’t need your dad in the stands cheering you on.”
“Daddy,” I say, affection squeezing out the annoyance in my chest as I hug him “I’ll always need you in the stands cheering me on! But maybe you could watch from the cheap seats next time. And with fewer threats to guys I like.”
“Or none,” Coop says. “None’s a good number.”
“No, some is okay,” I say, peeking around my dad to smile at Coop.
Dad’s laugh rumbles against me.
My brothers come back right as Dad sits back down.
“Well, well, well,” Lucas says, “you’re looking at the newest star pitchers of the Mullet Ridge Mudflaps, baby!” Lucas pops the collar of his Christmas tree camo pajamas.
“Mullet Ridge?” Dad asks. “The Triple-A team out of South Carolina? They’re a Rockies affiliate.” Dad asks.
“They were .”
“What?” Coop and I both ask.
“Turns out, the Rockies owner doesn’t like Kayla Carville’s style, and it’s a contract year for both the Mudflaps and the Firebirds’ Triple-A team. So Kayla proposed a swap … as long as the Fischer bros were part of the deal,” Logan says.
“WHAT?” I almost scream.
“That’s right,” Lucas says. “She said she wanted the Fischer bros, and she managed to convince the Rockies that they don’t want to be in the Mudflaps business and the Firebirds that they do . Oh, and we’ve been placed on the Firebirds’ extended roster!”
“AAAHHH!” I jump up and hug my brothers, stomping my feet excitedly and squeezing them for dear life. “I’m so happy for you guys!”
When I let go, I give Coop a shocked look, and he just smiles. Lucas grabs a handful of nuts and bolts and throws them in his mouth while he sits back down at the table.
But Coop’s eyes move to Logan’s.
“What do you think, Logan?” he asks. “Are you upset?”
“No, I’m worried,” he says. “I’m worried I’m not there yet.”
“You’ll get there,” Coop says.
“You said I telegraph my pitches.”
“You do.”
“I’ve watched tape on myself. What do you see that I don’t?”
“It’s your curveball.”
“I have one of the best curveballs in the minors.”
“Yeah, but you pause when your left knee is up during windup. You’re probably checking your grip, or something, but it’s just long enough. And minor leagues don’t have pitch readers on staff, but the majors do. A pitch reader will be able to call that out every time.”
Logan sniffs, and Lucas laughs at him. “You pause.”
“I pause ?” Logan asks. “Coop … would you … mind … helping … me?”
Coop laughs. “Was that really so painful?”
“Yes,” Logan says.
“I’m happy to,” Coop says.
Logan looks relieved, but Lucas is still snorting.
“Yuk it up,” Logan says, getting back to his gingerbread house. “He said we both telegraph our pitches.”
Lucas sits straighter. “What? What do I do?”
“I told you this last season,” I say. “You raise your glove too high on your slider.”
“And you keep your glove at your chest on your changeup,” Coop says. “It’s a dead giveaway to anyone who can read a pitch.”
“If it’s so obvious, how come no one has ever mentioned this?” Lucas says.
“I said it!” I protest. “You just didn’t believe me. You guys never believe me when it comes to baseball.”
Logan frowns, putting a Skittle on his poorly frosted roof. “We believe you, we just …” The tweebs look at each other. “Mom told us we needed to look out for you . She made us promise that we wouldn’t let you spend all your time behind a desk or computer screen mapping out our futures,” Lucas says.
She what? My tone softens as I think of my mom thinking of me . “So why wouldn’t you believe me?”
“We didn’t want managing our careers to feel like your job. We have trainers and analysts for that. We just wanted you to feel free to be our sister,” Logan says.
“But you guys can’t even make cookies without me!”
Logan rolls his eyes. “Of course we can. Lucas’s Oreo cake pops are insane. Uncle Paul ate like twenty last year.”
“You told me you brought Costco cookies!”
“We lied!” Lucas says, frosting the roof of his house until it caves in. “Dang it.”
“Why did you lie?” I ask.
“Because we miss you,” Logan says. He meets my gaze, and when his eyes start welling, mine mirror them. “Being around you makes it hurt less.”
I start crying. “You guys are such freaking turds.”
Logan and Lucas both pull me to my feet into another bear hug that makes Dad’s dog yap his little face off.
When we all sit back down, Coop bumps his leg into mine beneath the table, and I don’t care who’s watching. I lean my forehead into his shoulder.
Dad chuckles and glances at a family picture on the wall. It’s from a few years after Mom got her diagnosis, when she was still able to use a walker. She was so pretty. It always feels odd when people say how much I look like her, but it’s an honor, too. “I hope you’ll all keep looking out for each other, but I think you’ve done your duty to your mom. You’re all old enough to take care of yourselves.”
“Mostly,” Logan says. “Lucas still has trouble untying his cleats when he does a double knot.”
“That was one time! And none of the rest of the team could untie it, either.”
Dad is drinking eggnog, and he snorts it out of his nose, making us all bust up. “All right,” he says, wiping his face. “Lee and Logan, you two watch out for Lucas. Lukie, you get a pass.”
Lucas throws candy at all of us.
After more decorating (Coop is building a mansion while the rest of us are working on shacks), Coop takes a break to get water in the kitchen. He’s still not back after a couple of minutes, so I go into the kitchen and find him staring at his texts.
“Any word?” I ask.
He puts his phone into his pajama pants pocket. “Mom responded to the video message.”
“Oh, let me see!”
“She responded with a note, not a video. She said they miss me and will call me when they can.” He holds his arms out for me, and I slide into the hug, wanting to cry.
“How are you?”
“Fine,” he says, but I know he’s lying. “I’m not going to yell at a brick wall for being immovable.”
His mom being immovable is one thing. Her not spending every second trying to see his face on the screen she has access to is another.
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” He kisses my forehead. “How are you feeling? How is your first Christmas at home without your mom?”
“Better than I thought it would be.”
“Because I’m here, right? I knew it.”
“Shut it, you,” I say. But he’s not wrong. Not at all.
“I noticed you guys don't have mistletoe up anywhere. We’re going to need that if we’re going to make out in front of your family with impunity.”
I laugh against his chest. “We’re not making out in front of my family.”
“But you’ll at least admit in front of them that you’re madly in love with me, right?”
“Not today, I won’t.”
“That is wildly disappointing.”
I kiss him just long enough to take some of the disappointment away, and then I pull him back into the dining room to finish our gingerbread houses.
And I think about his question as I watch him with my dad and brothers. A few weeks ago, I could hardly stomach admitting that I was working with Coop. Now, I’m stealing kisses.
And he’s totally stolen my heart.