Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Callie
I’m already outside Webber Field when my phone vibrates in my purse.
Leighton: Running late but I’m coming…in case you see Hayes.
I’ll let him know if he comes to the fence line.
Thanks. I messaged him but he’s probably warming up the pitchers.
No problem. Take your time.
I stop at the vendor and get a pretzel with cheese and a water before going to my seat.
Usually, Leighton is already here when I arrive.
My parents are on vacation, promising to be back for my twenty-week appointment and then staying in town until I deliver.
I let them know they don’t need to do that, but I was told not to argue.
Staring at the four empty seats around me, I quickly grow bored. Isn’t that always my problem? I don’t love being alone.
Then I realize the manager’s daughter is sitting in front of me with her daughter, who looks to be about seven years old. Being Hayes’s sister and now the baby momma of Foster’s kid, I should probably introduce myself. Plus, they’re all alone as well.
I tap her on the shoulder. She looks over her shoulder and smiles instantly. She’s dressed casually, but wealthy casual. Her clothes are higher-end, and her designer purse is a glaring “I have money” sign.
“Hi. I’m Callie Carlisle. Hayes’s sister.”
Her little girl looks up from her coloring book at me.
“Hi.” She stands to face me and holds out her hand. “Penelope Ripley, and this is Hazel.” She puts her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Say hello.”
“Hi.” Hazel waves and goes back to her drawing. She has golden-blonde hair like her mom’s, long and straight, and a matching complexion with porcelain skin and peachy cheeks.
“This is our first time sitting here,” Penelope says. “We’re usually up in a suite, but Hazel said she wanted to be with the fans.”
I smile. “It’s a little rowdier down here.”
She laughs. “I only really don’t like it because the fans sometimes say bad things about my dad, and I’ve been known to go alpha daughter, unable to bite my tongue.” She tilts her head toward Hazel. “I’m trying to be a good role model.”
“I hear you. One time I almost got physical with a woman who was saying stuff about Hayes. But now I let Leighton fight those battles. She’s his fiancée and should be here shortly.”
Her head rocks back. “I know Leighton already. We’ve met. Another reason why Hazel wanted to sit down here. They have children, right?”
I nod. “She’ll love Monroe. She likes to color too.” I aim it more at Hazel, but she looks at her mom.
“We just moved here. It hasn’t been easy,” Penelope says. “I always thought friendships just kind of happened when you’re young and that it was when you were older that they got harder.” She looks onto the field, and I assume she’s looking for her dad.
“So sorry I’m late!” Leighton rushes down the stairs with three bags hanging off her arms.
“No Lake?” I ask, seeing only Monroe and Lincoln in tow.
“She’s too cool for the game today.” She rolls her eyes and plops down next to me. “Oh, Penelope! Coming down with the common folk?” Leighton laughs and gets back up and hugs her.
“Thought we’d lower our standards and see what it’s all about down here.” Her smile says she’s joking, and Leighton laughs.
“I’m kidding. Monroe, you remember Hazel.” Leighton drops her bags and pulls out Monroe’s coloring stuff.
The two little girls say hello, then look away from each other.
Penelope and Leighton share a look that says what do we do to get them to talk to each other?
“Want to get a closer look?” I ask the girls. “Sometimes the players come to the netting.”
I stand and take Monroe’s hand, leading us down the aisle, then we wait at the next row down for Hazel. Penelope encourages her, and Hazel eventually weaves past the other people who are already here and joins us.
As I predicted, Easton and Decker come over on their way to the dugout.
“Making friends, Monroe?” Easton winks at her.
She shrugs. Usually Monroe is talking a mile a minute. I have no idea why she’s so quiet today. I thought she’d be talking Hazel’s ear off by now.
“You guys know Hazel,” I say, placing my hand on her head.
Decker raises his fist to knock knuckles, but Hazel doesn’t do anything.
Lincoln joins us and tries to be helpful. “Like this.” He holds out his fist and Decker hits his knuckles.
Decker keeps his hand out for Hazel, and she eventually bumps her fist against his. “There you go.”
“So tell us, who’s your favorite player?” Easton asks Hazel.
“Why is everything a competition with you?” I shake my head at him.
“Well, you broke my heart and decided to have Foster’s baby. Now I’m looking for validation anywhere I can get it.”
I tilt my head and run my hand over my stomach, which is growing by the day. “Cute.”
He winks. “I think so… sorry your guy is in the bullpen, and I heard it’s your fault he was late this morning.”
“No, it wasn’t.” My face heats.
“Something about putting too much soap in the dishwasher? I swear if it leaks down into my place, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”
My tension eases, and I’m glad to know that Foster isn’t a kiss-and-tell kind of guy. “Relax, it’s all fixed.”
The guys talk to Hazel, Lincoln, and Monroe about whether they’re excited about the game. I notice Hazel is very quiet, and Lincoln is the one leading the pack. By the time we say goodbye and go back to our seats, Penelope is up in our row. Leighton tells Monroe and Hazel to sit in front of us.
“Thanks. Maybe she’ll talk more if she’s sitting with her,” Penelope says. “I was telling Callie the move has been hard, but…”
Leighton and I nod.
“Big life changes are difficult.” Leighton pats Penelope’s leg. “I lost my cousin last year and became the guardian of these two, plus their older sister. It’s an adjustment.”
Penelope’s eyes widen.
Leighton says, “They’re doing great. It wasn’t the easiest path, but we’re figuring it out. And so will you. Sometimes it just takes longer than we’d like.”
“Aunt Callie, can I have a piece of pretzel?” Lincoln asks me, and I turn my attention to him, allowing Leighton and Penelope to talk.
Just then Hayes comes out of the bullpen with McCarthy, and they’re walking toward the dugout. He waves to Leighton, and she blows him a kiss.
“It’s rather sickening, these two,” I say to Penelope after Hayes disappears.
“It’s cute.” Penelope smiles at Leighton.
“You know who’s cuter?” Leighton interjects, and I groan. “Did you know that Foster and Callie are having a baby?”
Penelope smiles at me, but it’s one of those apologetic smiles for knowing something she shouldn’t. But it’s not her fault that social media hasn’t yet let go of Foster Davis having a baby with his catcher’s sister. “I heard.”
“As did everyone,” I say with an eye roll.
“And they’re so cute,” Leighton goes on. “Especially since Foster is…”
A look crosses Penelope’s face, almost like fear, but she masks it with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
I can’t help the gut feeling that I’m missing something here, but I have no idea what it could be. I mean, Ripley did coach in Seattle while Foster was there, but Penelope was didn’t live there.
Sourness hits my stomach, and I tell myself not to think too hard about whatever this gut reaction is. It’s just fear scratching at that scab.
“…so into it. I mean, you’d think he wouldn’t be so on board with this pregnancy, but he’s all protective…” Leighton continues, but I don’t hear much of what she says because my mind spirals somewhere it has no place going.
“I’ll be right back.” I hand my pretzel to Lincoln.
“Wow, thanks, Aunt Callie.”
I walk up the steps and into the bathroom, pulling my phone out of my pocket. There’s a message from Foster that I must have missed.
Step away from Easton.
I smile to myself, all those fears disappearing.
He was talking to the kids.
Sure he was. FYI, I told them something happened to our dishwasher and that’s why I was late meeting them downstairs. In case he brings it up.
He did, and I played along. After having a heart attack that you told them I was on my knees in front of you in blue lingerie.
Just so you know, if I pitch like shit, it’s your fault because I’m gonna be seeing every batter as you in that sexy lace. I want to tear it off with my teeth next time you’re wearing it.
Is this sexting?
Probably not the best time, but you started it.
One for one?
You first.
I loved making you fall apart.
I loved you making me fall apart.
I hug the pone to my body, knowing we’re playing with a Costco size box of matches, but I can’t seem to care.