Chapter 10
TEN
nate
Why did I feel relieved that Olivia wasn’t interested in sleeping with her ex? Was it only because I thought he was a shitty father?
There was something far more complicated than me just wanting her for myself. I was heavily steeped in my hope that she understood her value a bit better than that. And maybe it stemmed from a little bit of competition, even though it was clear she only saw me as a kid.
In my small town in Alabama, it was common for the girls I went to high school with to either finish school as mothers or drop out of school to become mothers. In my town, women in their late twenties routinely had older kids; sometimes they even had teenagers.
For me, choosing the draft over college wasn’t a big deal; none of my high school friends went to college either. Even if this year became a one-and-done deal, I was still more successful than most of my classmates would ever be.
My mother was pissed that I didn’t go to college, but that was because she never planned for baseball to be my career.
For her, baseball was my chance to get an education, not a replacement for that education.
But she did what she always did: swallowed her disappointment and supported what I wanted.
She’d also lived in denial that school would ever be my path. I’d always struggled with learning.
Every day, I suited up in the Minutemen uniform; I did it with the hopes that I would prove to her that I had made the right decision. Could I get injured in the next game I play? Uh, huh. But I wouldn’t let that stop me; I would crawl and fight through any recovery necessary.
Baseball was my only plan, so failure wasn’t an option. At some point, when I said this, I wouldn’t be met with eye rolls.
“Do you have brothers or sisters?” Olivia asked.
“Uh. That’s complicated. Technically, yes, but I wasn’t raised with them. My father had a couple of relationships after he and my mother split up. But I have a brother Cooper’s age, Chace, and a sister, 16, Kayley.”
When I got drafted, both their mothers reached out to me for money.
I still never told my mother that I sent some every month.
It was something I did because I knew what it was like, hoping that my father would show up and do something right.
He hadn’t gotten any better with age, and maybe that check I wrote would show those kids that his failure didn’t mean they weren’t worth something.
Austin went out on the patio and turned on the grill.
“Can I do anything to help?” I always felt awkward when other people were working around me.
“No, why don’t you just relax outside with a b—, I mean soda.” Olivia caught herself before offering me a beer. Another reminder that it was going to take more than a little work for her to see me as a man.
“Are you going to the game tomorrow?” I asked Olivia.
“I wasn’t planning on it. I usually only go when the entire family goes.”
“That’s because she doesn’t like to sit with Ashley by herself—Ashley won’t be in those seats anymore, Livvie. Tickets are yours and Coop’s if you want them.”
“Coop would love that.”
“Do you enjoy watching the games?” I asked.
Austin laughed, and Olivia smiled. “A little bit.”
“Wanna fill me in on the joke here?”
“She’s a rabid Minutemen fan. She refused to cheer for me when I played for Chicago, and she might have been the first person I called when I got traded here.”
She shrugged. “Don’t ever get your ass traded, Reaves. If you do, your jersey will never grace my body.”
I swallowed hard. God, why did that make me want to see her in my jersey and nothing else?
* * *
After dinner, I retired to my room to get an early night’s sleep, a game night routine I had established at the beginning of the season. Yeah, baseball season was long, but by taking care of myself and protecting my sleep schedule, I cut down on the impact the travel had on my body.
Me: Hey Mom, all good today?
I tried to check in on my mother at least once a day.
Mom: Yes. Been having trouble getting the time off for that visit we planned.
Me: It’s okay. Don’t worry about me.
Disappointment hit hard. I hadn’t had family in the stands watching for a single game to date. With my mother’s work schedule, she often struggled to take any time off, and when I bought her the house, she’d refused to accept any additional help, especially not travel expenses to go to the game.
Was she proud of me? Yes. But she watched from the television, and since Boston was out of market in Alabama, she barely got to see my games.