Chapter 14
14
The downfall of any leader
in a sport’s team is when he gets
carried away with his own ego.
Toto Wolff
A n hour later, Teddy considered himself a Triple T’s fan. He’d devoured his Sweetheart Special: a double cheeseburger with onions grilled into the meat patties, three slices of cheese — Cheddar, Swiss, and Pepper Jack — and a stack of lettuce, tomato, and pickles sandwiched between layers of mustard and mayonnaise on a homemade bun; an order of onion rings still sizzling from the grease; and a strawberry milkshake served in an icy soda fountain glass, with whipped cream and a cherry on top.
Teddy had finished it off with a fat wedge of chocolate cake, an absolute slice of heaven. Baylin had mentioned a few days earlier that her friend baked at The Three-Toed Turtle on the weekends, so Teddy had asked their server who had baked the dessert. A few minutes later, Anita de la Fuente emerged from the kitchen with a cake box in hand and headed straight for Teddy and Baylin.
“I hear I have a new admirer,” she said, setting the box on their table as Baylin rose from her bench seat. The girls shared a hug; it was a treat to watch Baylin light up at seeing her friend.
“For life,” Teddy clarified, extending his hand to meet her. “I’m Teddy Gwenn.”
“Are you now?” Anita replied, volleying a sly smile back and forth between Teddy and Baylin.
“Baylin mentioned you’re a magician when it comes to making desserts; I agree! I’ve never had a chocolate cake so moist and spongy. And the powdered sugar on top instead of frosting is going to be my favorite forever more.”
“Are you sure she didn’t say witch instead of magician?” Anita teased, draping an arm around Baylin. “Either way, I’m happy to put my superpowers to good use. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Do you have time to sit for a second?” Baylin asked, sliding back into the booth.
“I’d love to. And I boxed up an extra cake for Teddy here to take home…gotta keep the fans happy. Isn’t that right slugger?” Baylin moved closer to the wall, and Anita sat beside her.
“Whatever it takes,” he said with a laugh. “Thank you! Between your cake, the white chocolate-covered popcorn Baylin made, and my plan to steal a few of her Valentine’s cookies from the festival, I can have something sweet after every meal for the rest of the weekend. I feel like a kid on Christmas morning.”
“I hated to miss the dance, but I had too much baking left to do… The hotel dining room is packed with food vendors, and I rented a double space.”
At Anita’s mention of the night before, Teddy’s and Baylin’s eyes met. A warm glow colored her cheeks; he couldn’t look away. In a bold red dress and dazzling high heels or wearing a plaid flannel with jeans and tennis shoes, Baylin captivated and attracted Teddy in an undefinable way. His feelings for her resembled a fastball whizzing down the pipe, high velocity and full of potential. Place the sweet spot of the bat on a ball like that, and he’d blast it 460 feet for a grand slam home run every time. What an experience, one Coach Hayes called life-defining…one for which there existed no defense…one Teddy hoped would never end.
“Hello?” Anita waved a hand between them. “How was it?”
“Fun,” Baylin answered.
“Pivotal,” Teddy challenged, eyes still glued to Baylin.
“Yes, interesting,” Baylin added.
“I’ve been to a lot of dances around here, and not one of them was interesting and certainly not pivotal,” Anita declared. “Who all was there? Karl said he and his brothers couldn’t make it; they’re down in San Antonio, competing at the stock show and rodeo. I swear, those boys—” She stopped mid-sentence and eyed Teddy and Baylin up and down. Teddy’d been listening… He truly had. But he hadn’t given Anita his full attention, which was rude.
“Sorry,” he said, dragging his gaze away from Baylin. “I heard people talking about the Sharp triplets while we were hanging quilts at the church Wednesday; they sound both interesting and fun .”
“Crazy and stupid’s more like it,” Anita said, shaking her head. “Karl promised he’d be around to help me rebuild the engine on the jalopy of a food truck I bought, which was all I could afford. But they had the Breakaway Rodeo Finals in Montana right after Christmas, then the Southwest Expo in Fort Worth until last week. It’s always something with cowboys…something pulling them back on a trail to anywhere but here.”
“Give him a break,” Baylin said as she moved their dishes to clear the space in front of her. She tried, but failed, to conceal a big yawn, folded her arms on the table, and rested her head against them. “You know Karl’s sweet on you,” she mumbled as her eyes closed.
“Just because you can’t be home doesn’t mean the people there aren’t important,” Teddy said, careful to sound neutral rather than defensive or judgy.
“Hard to claim something that doesn’t get your attention is a priority,” Anita countered with a pointed look at Baylin, whose peaceful, sleeping beauty pierced Teddy’s heart.
I could love her so easily.
“Out of sight isn’t always out of mind.”
“It sure feels like it,” Anita said, divulging a thread of insecurity which surprised him as she came across as self– everything …reliant, assertive, confident, and sufficient.
“That’s true,” Teddy agreed. “ For we walk by faith, not by sight. ”
“A church boy, huh?” Anita nodded as if connecting dots, sizing up who Teddy was as a human being. “That’s in Corinthians, right?”
“Yeah, 2 Corinthians 5:7.”
“If you meet my mama this weekend, don’t tell her I’d forgotten the exact verse.”
“Deal,” he promised. “Now, tell me more about this food truck in need of repairs.”
Anita’s dreams and her passion and her hopes resonated strong and clear as she described her vision and talked about the menus she’d created. Her fear of failure and her concerns for getting the business up and running bubbled at the surface as well.
“Let me invest,” Teddy offered.
“Nope! Absolutely not?—”
“Not as a gift, if you’re so determined to push out everyone who wants to help,” he interrupted. “Let me invest …as a true business partner.”
He laid out a proposal, rates and terms far better than what she’d find at a financial institution, but still legitimate enough that Anita didn’t perceive the loan as accepting charity.
They negotiated. She fussed; he persisted. Then they jotted the agreed upon details on a napkin that both of them signed. Teddy grabbed his wallet from his backpack and wrote her a check. To his delight, it bore an eye-popping sum with a lot of zeros.
“Baylin’s right,” Anita said, standing from the booth bench and folding the check before putting it in her back pocket. Her voice carried an earnest note. Her eyes glistened with moisture. “You’re not so bad after all.”
Teddy would’ve sworn he’d just received a billion-dollar endorsement.
“Right back at ’cha, partner.”
Anita walked away, stopping by tables and exchanging a quick word with other people she knew as she made her way back to the kitchen.
Teddy tenderly shook Baylin’s shoulder to wake her up.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he said when she opened her eyes and lifted her head from the pillow of her arms. “If you still want to run to the farm and get back to town for the baseball game, we’d better get going.”
“Oh my,” she groaned with a stretch. “I think I could call it a night right now and sleep until morning.”
“It’s your call; you said the high schoolers you hired can handle the booth tonight.” A vision of a quiet night by the fireplace in the farmhouse parlor, reading a book from the expansive library, and watching Baylin sew formed in Teddy’s mind. The vision held enormous appeal.
“Nah, the Sweetheart Festival comes only once a year. I’d hate to miss a moment of it. Let’s get going,” she said as they left the restaurant and walked into the chilly winter day. “I’ll text Anita to apologize for falling asleep. I’d hate to disrupt her work again.”
“She’s good,” Teddy told her, “…said she’d see you tomorrow at the exhibit hall.”
“Oh good. Did y’all get to visit some so you could get to know her? I think she’s amazing.”
“We did.” Teddy opened the driver’s door for Baylin. “And you know, I’d say she thinks that same about you.”
Baylin gave Teddy a grateful and beautiful smile. Then she pulled her door closed and started the engine while Teddy jogged around to the other side.
They dashed home, checked on animals and water levels, changed clothes, and made it to the baseball field just in time for the “Star-Spangled Banner.”
Baylin sat with Teddy in the bleachers for the first three innings. When Chief Everett called her to take right field in the top of the fourth, Teddy walked down the fence line. He cheered and heckled in good fun, enjoying his time as a spectator.
In the bottom of the fifth inning, Teddy clapped and whooped when Baylin hit a line drive between the first and second basemen. Michael Crockett, playing shortstop, wrapped Baylin in a bear hug to prevent her from advancing to third base. Teddy’s good mood disappeared.
From where he stood beyond the team bench, he couldn’t hear their conversation, but Michael’s body language left little for the imagination. His blatant flirtation and excessive hugging struck a nerve that had Teddy seeing red…and not the shade of a sweet Valentine.
Because Michael had interfered with Baylin running the bases, the score was 7–6 going into the sixth and final inning; her team had a one-run lead.
“Can I play?”
“Sorry, son?” the fire chief asked.
Teddy hadn’t needed to beg to play ball since kindergarten, but he was fully prepared to do so right then if necessary.
“I’m a friend of Baylin’s,” he explained. “I’d love to play the last inning, if you’re okay with it.”
Chief Everett hesitated and squinted to look at Teddy. Either because he’d pulled his cap down low, or because the stadium lights cast a shadow over his features, or because his usual five o’clock shadow had grown into a full-fledged beard the past few days, the older man didn’t seem to recognize Teddy.
“I need to win,” Chief Everett emphasized. “Stan’s won the past two years, and I’m tired of hearing about it every week at Sunday dinner.”
“I can help with that, sir.”
“Well, alrighty then. Where d’you want to play?”
“I’ll take center, if you don’t mind.” Teddy’s legs tingled and his feet itched to get on the field.
“It’s all yours.”
Teddy jogged out to his position, sad to see someone else had replaced Baylin. Then he heard her cheering from the stands and his heart doubled in size and rhythm. Man, would he like to hear her cheering his name at a Braves game.
The first batter on the other team hit a slow dribbler to second. Teddy could’ve gotten to the ball and thrown it to first in plenty of time, but he didn’t have the heart to throw out the young girl.
The second batter earned a walk.
The third batter popped up to third base…one out, score remained 7–6.
The fourth batter struck out swinging…two outs, still up by one.
The fifth batter happened to be Baylin’s admirer, Michael Crockett.
Crockett shouted some good-natured trash talk toward the mound. The pitcher took it in stride, winding up and delivering a pretty decent fastball. Crockett hit a foul ball down the third base line. On the next pitch, Crockett let the ball get deeper in the strike zone. Still too far in front of the ball, he pinged it off the left field foul pole. Michael should have the pitcher’s speed figured out by the third pitch. He’d likely go yard with it, hitting a home run and putting a win out of reach for Baylin’s team.
“Coach, a word?” Teddy called to Chief Everett in the dugout.
“Time, I guess,” the umpire called, not hiding his frown nor his frustration at a delay in the game.
“What do you think about me taking the mound?”
The pitcher, who turned out to be Elijah Davis’s son and the fireman Baylin told Teddy about, joined their huddle.
“Davis, Baylin’s friend here says he’d like to pitch the rest of the inning.”
“I bet he would, Chief,” Daniel Davis said with a big grin. Then he relented. “We get to watch him play center all the time; let’s see if he can pitch, too.”
As Davis placed the baseball in Teddy’s glove, he teased, “If I was smitten with Baylin O’Casey, I’d want to get rid of Crockett, too.”
With no plausible defense, Teddy remained quiet.
“Here we go,” Davis hollered in a jaunty voice as he jogged to center field.
The catcher stood to the side of home plate for Teddy to warm up with a few pitches. The disgruntled umpire called everyone back to their places to resume play.
Teddy called time again, gesturing for the catcher to meet him in the infield.
“Good heavens to Betsy,” the umpire growled.
“Hi” Teddy said, sounding more awkward than he’d hoped. “I’m Teddy.” He hesitated again. “I should’ve asked if you’ve caught before,” he said with concern.
“Nice to meet you; I’m Rhys Larsen,” the catcher offered, pulling off his catcher’s mitt to shake Teddy’s hand. “And, uh… I’ve been catching the entire game.”
“I don’t mean here .” Teddy looked around at the high school baseball stadium, at the crowd bundled up under coats and blankets in the stands. His eyes settled on Baylin, who smiled in return.
“I know what you mean, Gwenn.”
Teddy looked him right in the eye.
“You won’t hurt my hand. Just throw the ball, so we can steal this win right out from under ’em.”
Teddy searched Rhys’s face for a hint of false bravado but found nothing beyond sheer competitive spirit. Both men nodded at the other in agreement and walked back to their spots behind the plate and on the mound.
After rolling his shoulders and popping his neck, Teddy dragged his front foot across the pitching plate; he didn’t even have cleats on.
Why in the world was he making such a big deal of this game?
He played in much bigger venues 162 times a year. Too bad his ego refused to accept reason.
His gaze darted to Baylin, and his determination clicked up yet another notch.
Certain Crockett would watch the first ball for timing, Teddy wound up and released a fast fastball. A satisfying snap echoed from Rhys’s mitt.
“Woo-wee,” someone howled from the stands.
“Strike one,” said the umpire.
“Nice pitch,” Davis hollered from center field.
Teddy walked back to the mound, fixed the dirt, rocked back, and fired another fastball — even faster — into Rhys’s glove. Crockett had let it go by without swinging again.
“Strike two!”
Teddy scanned the fans as he circled back to the mound a final time. The spectators sat on the edge of their seats, many yelling for one team or the other…a few whispering and pointing in Teddy’s direction.
Baylin sat tall, her back ramrod straight. A questioning look had replaced her easy smile.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Teddy took his place on the mound, smoothed the dirt, pulled the ball and glove to his chest, and released the slowest changeup he’d seen since Little League.
Crockett bit, expecting another fastball and swinging for the fences. He’d swung, missed, and dropped the bat all before the ball had reached Rhys’s glove.
“Strike three! Ballgame,” the umpire announced. “Everybody outta the cold and on to the Sweetheart Festival.”
Cheers erupted from the fire chief’s dugout. Grumblings sounded from the police chief’s bench. Both coaches and all the players formed two lines to shake hands and offer Good Games to one another.
Davis half-jumped on Teddy’s back. “Teddy Gwenn, folks… Right here in River City,” he hollered with a victorious yell.
Within seconds, a swarm of people surrounded Teddy. He smiled at each one of them, agreed to sign autographs and take pictures, and strove to ignore the dread that had filled his gut like a lead weight.
He looked for Baylin where she’d been sitting, but he didn’t find her. The bleacher sat empty.
Baylin was gone.