Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Hayes
This could be a bad decision, but Leighton shared her fears with me. She was open and honest with me and deserves the same in return.
Leighton opens the door for me, and I tell her the keypad codes to get up to the rooftop.
The bar up here is closed since there’s no game, and it’s only rented for private parties while games are happening at Webber Field.
Our private entrance opens into the bar with the giant windows that walk you out to the stadium seating on the rooftop.
“How are you allowed access up here?” she asks.
“Cooper Rice from the Grizzlies owns this building, and he gave us the code.”
She turns around, her jaw hanging open. “You professional athletes have a little secret society none of us know about.”
I laugh, and we walk out of the bar area, up the stairs to the rooftop seats. “He’s a great guy. Used to live here. Years ago, before he was married and had a family.”
We rarely see Cooper, but that’s the same with the Grizzlies and the Falcons. They’re off living their happily-ever-afters. Good for them.
“I feel like I’m in some rom-com, special access.” She giggles, looking around as though she’s afraid she’ll miss something. “I always wondered what it was like up on these rooftops.”
“You should bring the kids one day. I can get you tickets.” I wait for her to pick a row, and I’m surprised when she goes all the way to the top.
“They’d love it.” She sits in the middle of the row, staring down at the field. I hand her a water, and she takes the bowl of popcorn, letting me get situated next to her.
I realize she’s still wearing her scrubs. “I could’ve given you something to change into.”
“Have you ever worn scrubs?” She puts her feet up on the seat in front of her and opens her water.
“I like to leave that to the professionals.” I lean back as well. Even after all these months, sometimes I still can’t believe I get to play on the field I grew up watching ball games on. That people fill those seats, in part, to see me play.
“I’ll get you a pair. You’ll love them. So comfortable.” Her hand digs into the popcorn, and she tosses up a kernel, catching it in her mouth.
“You gonna share?”
She snags another handful and hands me the bowl. “So, why am I here?” Leighton meets my gaze.
I’ve never thought of myself as a closed-off person, but I’ve been stalling. I want to put myself out there with her. I trust her not to discuss my vulnerabilities with anyone else, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
“You don’t see the players down there on the field?”
She laughs and leans her head on my shoulder all too briefly before she straightens to continue eating her popcorn. Still, she remains quiet, waiting for me to fill the silence, waiting for me to tell her why she’s here. Why I asked her to stare at an empty baseball field.
“Last year—”
“No!” Her feet fall off the back of the chair in front of her, and she swivels, putting her hand on my thigh. “I told you, you don’t need to explain yourself.”
“I want to.”
“It won’t change my opinion of you—which is pretty great, I have to say. I only said that shit in the alley because of my own issues and being scared. You owe me nothing. No explanations.”
“And that’s why I want to tell you.”
She smiles softly as her palm runs down my thigh. My dick twitches in my pants. If she were mine, I’d probably be trying to figure out the logistics of how I could fuck her in these uncomfortable seats.
“Okay. If you really want to.” Her voice is soft, tender.
I look at the green grass, the brown basepaths, the empty stadium seats. “I was already struggling at the beginning of last year. I was pissed that I didn’t win the Gold Glove, and the chip that’s been on my shoulder my entire career just grew bigger.”
“Chip?” She frowns. “I never thought—”
“It started way back with Coach Linden.”
“He was an asshole.” She’d know, since he was the gym and health teacher at our school.
“Well, he didn’t believe in me—said I was only there to make the pitcher look good. And played games with my playing time.”
She sips her water. “Weren’t you All-State?”
I nod. “After Coach Linden retired, my senior year. But him telling me he didn’t think I had what it took always stuck with me.
Then when I hit the minors after college, I was a throw-in to a trade package for another player.
” I shrug, remembering how I doubted myself and my worth at that point.
Figured I’d never even see a professional field.
“There’s a lot of ups and downs in this career. ”
“But you’ve persevered. So many fans love you, Hayes. You’ve proven Coach Linden wrong. You made it.”
I laugh, and it sounds hollow as fuck. “I’ve never won a Gold Glove.
I’ve never gotten any accolades for my performance.
Sure, I’m consistent and steady as far as my play goes, except last year, but I’m replaceable.
That’s why the Colts only took me on for one year.
They’re probably just buying time until the next hot catcher comes up, and then I’ll be out. ”
“That’s not true,” she says. “They’re lucky to have you.”
I open the Twizzlers package and pull one out for myself.
“Anyway, I was pissed that I’d had my best year in the league and was still passed up for the Gold Glove.
I always believed that if you work hard enough, the reward will come, but that didn’t seem true for me.
So, I decided I didn’t give a shit anymore.
I was halfway into that spiral when my mom and dad showed up unexpectedly at an away game.
” I hold out the Twizzlers bag. “Sorry, I’ll stock some Twix at my place for next time. ”
She gives me a smile that says don’t dodge this with humor, but she takes one.
“For them to come to an away game that wasn’t in Chicago raised my red flags, but Callie wasn’t with them, so I figured if it were something bad, she’d have been there too.”
I remember wanting to text Callie in the locker room before the dinner that would change everything. But then I thought that I was the oldest, and my parents were telling me whatever it was first so that I could be there to help Callie through it. Turns out I was the last to know.
“Neither of my parents said anything about my game and how horrible I’d played.
It might’ve been my worst game that year.
We went out to eat, and that’s when they told me my mom had done a routine medical exam, and they found something.
After an ultrasound and a biopsy, it confirmed what the doctors thought—she had cancer. ”
A short, strangled noise comes out of Leighton.
“They already had her chemo schedule. They knew what steps the doctor would take and explained to me exactly what would be happening going forward. The milestones they hoped she’d reach. I should’ve been there with them during those doctor visits.”
“They understood.” Leighton turns to face me and takes my hand. Her thumb runs along my pointer finger, and just that small contact feels like so much comfort.
“I was in shock at first, I think. I didn’t say anything…
just excused myself, put my napkin on my chair, walked right to the bathroom, and wept.
” Tears sting my eyes, but I suck them back, not wanting to remember how my dad came in and hugged me so tightly, his tears wetting my white silk shirt, the two of us terrified we were going to lose her.
“And after that, I didn’t give a shit about my average, or stops, or wins.
I just wanted to be here in Chicago with her, holding her hand during her treatments, making her laugh to distract her from the poison being delivered to her bloodstream.
But she told me I couldn’t, that her greatest joy would be to watch me play the game she knew I loved.
So, I stayed, and I managed to screw that up too. ”
Leighton throws herself on me, her arms wrapping around my neck. My water bottle crinkles in my hand, and the Twizzlers press into my body.
“She loves you. You’ve never disappointed her,” she whispers in my ear. Just when I think I can’t hold the tears back anymore, she draws back and stares right into my eyes. “You’re a great son, a great brother, and a great baseball player.”
Her words mean so much to me, but I’m not sure I can believe them.
“I just don’t want you to think that the man I was last year is truly who I am. It isn’t. It was the most fucked-up version of myself.”
She leans back, and I miss her comfort as soon as she’s back in her seat. “Thank you for trusting me with all this. It can’t be easy, but I never thought that was who you are. I thought you were going through the worst chapter of your life and not dealing with it well.”
“I partied to forget, but there weren’t that many women. Fewer than you probably think.”
I don’t miss the way she stiffens slightly. “Why are you telling me that? It’s your business, not mine.”
“It matters what you think of me. I wanted to clarify where my head was at. Although you ran away from that kiss because you thought I would hurt you, so maybe that says something about my character even back then.”
She stands and walks over a few seats, wrapping her arms around her stomach. She stares at the field, and it’s obvious she’s struggling with something. I just have no idea what it could be.
Finally, she turns to me. “There’s something you don’t know about that night.”