Epilogue
TEXAS ANNOUNCERS STEVE SPUREL AND VIC BANDOS
STEVE: It’s a beautiful day at the ballpark. One ten start today, and Vic, I just have to tell you . . . love is in the air.
VIC: I know what you mean, Steve. I feel it. The birds are chirping. The bees are making honey. And someone . . . is having a baby!
(Laughing)
STEVE: All right, for those of you just tuning in for this pre-game and thinking we’ve gone crazy, let me fill you in. It was almost exactly three years ago when Texas made that horrible trade. You remember that trade, Vic?
VIC: I sure do, Steve. We sent Jayden Vargas to Chicago for a pitcher who threw . . . five innings for us? Maybe six?
STEVE: To say that move was a disaster is minimizing things, Vic. We had a chance to have both Vargas brothers on the same roster when both of them were hot. Now, tell me that wouldn’t have made a difference there at the end when we were trying to squeeze in to that wild card spot.
VIC: It sure would have, Steve.
STEVE: But it’s a new day. A new dawn. And folks, Jayden Vargas is once again wearing number ten in Texas red and blue. And today? Today we’re going to find out if he and his wife, hitting coach Colby Kessler, are having a boy or a girl.
VIC: So that’s why love is in the air. I see what you’re saying now, Steve.
STEVE: You’re really picking up what I’m putting down, are ya?”
VIC: I am. I am.
STEVE: The lovely couple got engaged during the off-season two years ago.
A tough way to start a marriage, I presume.
Colby, who was quite a slugger when she played for Ole Miss, has been the hitting coach here in Arlington for almost three full seasons.
And I think she said last time we spoke to her that it’s twelve hundred miles from here to Chicago, which is where Jayden was.
VIC: Only eleven hundred, Steve.
STEVE: Oh, okay. So not that bad, then.
(Laughter)
STEVE: Anyhow, they made long distance work, and thankfully for them—
VIC: And us!
STEVE: Yes, and us! Jayden is back where he belongs. I just wish Adriel Vargas wasn’t going to miss the rest of the season with a torn labrum. Texas only locked him up for two more years, so it’s possible we missed our shot at having two Vargas boys in the lineup yet again.
VIC: Yes, but he’s still here tonight, playing the part of expectant uncle. I guess it’s a little twist on the typical pregame first pitch.
STEVE: It is. In fact, if you wait with us through the break, when we come back, we’ll find out what gender the next great Vargas hitter is going to be!
VIC: But I’ll tell you what, Steve. It really doesn’t matter. I’ve seen Colby hit tanks out on this field that rival her husband’s!
(Laughter)
STEVE: Isn’t that the truth!
Jayden
“You know, I never thought kissing you out here would turn you into such an exhibitionist,” I say to my six-months-pregnant wife as she places the blue and pink colored baseball in my palm.
“I know. So in a way, this is your fault. You started it,” she says before lifting up on her toes and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Now, get on that mound and throw me a strike. Oh, and Jayden?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t fuck it up.”
She winks, then heads toward the plate to pick up the pink and blue bat one of the team sponsors had made for us special.
My brother holds up his glove, then crouches behind the plate, his left arm in a sling.
The difference between Adriel three years ago and my brother now is shocking.
And I have to give most of the credit to Colby.
She talks to him in a way nobody else can, even her father.
She’s really brought out the best in him.
Unfortunately, she’s made him such a desirable piece to have on a team that Texas will be priced out when he’s ready to go again.
It’s all right. Good for him.
My mom and her new boyfriend, an anesthesiologist she met when she did a volunteer shift at the children’s hospital last year, are poised with their phones about ten feet behind Colby.
Her dad is behind Adriel, partly as backup in case I somehow blow this and sail the ball over my brother’s head and Colby’s batting range.
If it doesn’t explode into a color, I’m pretty sure my wife will pick it up and stuff it down my throat.
She really wants this big moment. I want it, too. For her.
We decided that if our baby is a girl, we’re going to name her Meg, and if it’s a boy, Alejandro, after my late uncle.
While my father was a real asshole, his brother was an actual hero.
He served two tours in the Army and died of lung cancer at the age of forty.
He was around for my brother and me more than our dad ever was, so it feels fitting to let his name live on.
“Okay, Jayden. It’s showtime. And remember . . . smile.” Sissy, the PR exec who helped put this thing together for us, waves me toward the mound.
I wave to the crowd while our in-game announcer introduces me, my brother, and finally, “Texas hitting coach, Colby Kessler, the first female serving in this position in the organization’s history.”
Colby turns to wave at the crowd, and she gets the standing ovation she deserves. Sometimes, she’s a bit annoyed at being treated as a novelty, but she helped my brother earn a Silver Slugger award last season, so most of that applause is genuine appreciation from hardcore fans.
“Jayden Vargas, are you ready to throw out this very important first pitch?” the announcer says.
Jesus, could he tone down the pressure?
I hold up a thumb, then nod to my wife before beginning my windup. We’ve been practicing with wiffle balls for days, but this is the first time we’re expecting one to burst open and reveal whether we’re welcoming Alejandro or Meg to our family in three more months.
I toss the ball toward Adriel’s glove, relieved it soars toward him in a straight line. There’s enough heat on it for Colby to make solid contact. There’s no reason it shouldn’t break, but in the milliseconds before it reaches her bat, I anticipate every possible angle that this could go wrong.
The ball turns out to be empty.
She hits it so hard it dents but doesn’t break open, and it ends up in center field.
She swings and misses, and the drunk assholes behind home plate give her shit.
Okay, that’s probably not happening.
And then it happens.
Her shoulder dips as she slices her bat through the air, nailing the inside of the ball with so much force it unravels as it travels upward, spilling a rainbow of blue and pink glitter into the air.
Blue.
And pink.
My eyes grow wide, and Colby flips the bat and covers her mouth with her hands. My brother stands tall, raising his glove over his head as he rushes toward me. He shirks the glove off, then hugs me with his good arm, slapping my back, and he’s the first to say the word out loud so I can hear it.
Twins.
“We’re having twins?” I shuffle my way down the mound and meet Colby halfway between the rubber and the plate. Her eyes are filled with tears, her smile endless.
I cup her face and she covers my hands with her own.
“Meg, and Alejandro,” she says.
I repeat it for posterity. To make sure it’s reality.
“Meg. And Alejandro.”
She nods as I do the same, and I bring her lips to mine. I close my eyes and send a prayer up to Colby’s mom, the original Meg. I don’t know how she got into cahoots with my mom to make so much fortune happen for Colby and me, but I’m certain she’s our guardian angel.
Just like I’m certain Colby and I will figure out this parenthood thing and keep living our dreams. Someone is always looking out for us, it seems. Or maybe it’s just my wife making magic happen.
Because she’s the best.
And she always has been.
THE END