Chapter Nine #3

As time went on, however, all the traveling started wearing

me down. Early in my career—like as a kid back in Florida—I spent a lot of time

in the car with my parents driving me to auditions, or to acting, dancing, and

singing lessons. I am someone who typically thrives on keeping busy. But

between traveling for the TV show in Atlanta, more in LA, and then meeting up

with Christian, I have enough frequent flier miles to take me around the world.

Twice.

Plus, living out of a suitcase was getting a little old, and

once baseball season was in full swing, the time Christian and I had to spend

together was very routine—just like his schedule. We spent most nights just

sitting in front of the TV. We were both exhausted all the time but determined

that we could do this. We could make it through.

And it wasn’t only the traveling that was weighing heavily

on me. It was the WAGs.

No one was ever mean to my face, but there were plenty of

times when I caught the looks or heard the whispers. And none of them were

flattering.

I grew up in a middle-class family, and we didn’t have much

extra money. I’m not someone who cares about designer labels, and I’m so proud

when I can DIY something instead of paying a premium price. I can be very

frugal. I’m a small-town girl who is comfortable in blue jeans, T-shirts, and

my Hello Kitty purses. They make me happy, and anyone who really knows me knows

that.

These women live in a completely different league…the big

leagues.

So, when I went to games and sat with everyone, they were

all there in their designer clothes and Louis Vuitton bags, and there I was,

sporting Hello Kitty.

The snickering was hard to miss.

Outwardly, I didn’t let it show that it bothered me, but it

did. And it took some of the fun out of flying out to watch my man play. Every

time my feelings wanted to be hurt, I remembered Christian’s words to me.

You should be friends with everyone, but close with no

one.

And I refused to change just to fit in. That’s not who I am.

If a purse was going to be the thing that made people not like me, it said more

about them than me.

You should be friends with everyone, but close with no

one.

There was another dynamic within the WAG group that had

nothing to do with designer labels. I was new to the group—the team—and I was

just a girlfriend. It was also different for me because I didn't have any

children. Many baseball wives are moms with young kids. So, I didn't fit into

that group either. There was no meanness to it; it was just a fact. We didn’t

have anything in common. And it added to my loneliness.

You should be friends with everyone, but close with no

one.

Whenever Jess was at the game, I would sit with her. I

always felt more comfortable when I did, but when she wasn’t there, I usually

sat by myself in the family section.

Summer came and went, and we were still in that frenetic

pace of trying to see each other as much as possible but giving our all to our

careers at the same time. The Anaheim Magic made the playoffs, which meant that

Christian was deep in baseball mode.

If I thought the regular season was intense, it was nothing

compared to playoff mode.

They’re currently in Boston, and things aren’t looking good.

When we were on the phone last night, my heart broke just listening to

Christian recount how badly the game had gone and how he blamed himself for the

loss. They have to win game three. Otherwise, their season is over.

I hadn’t planned on going to any of the games in this round

because my schedule is tight, but tonight is a make-or-break game, and I know I

need to be there for him. And who knows, maybe surprising him, and him knowing

that I’m in the stands will be a good thing and boost his spirits?

I book my flight on my way to the Atlanta airport and make

arrangements with the assistant in charge of seating for the team’s families. I

nervously wonder whether I should text him and let him know I’m coming but

decide to wait for him to call me like he usually does in the morning. It’s

super early, but this puts me on the ground in Boston by 9:30 a.m., which is

when he is typically done with his first game-day workout. I wish I could just

show up and be like, “Surprise!” but throwing something like that at Christian

when he’s in his hyper-focus mode might not be the best.

The man lives by a schedule, and you can’t deviate from it.

When I land in Boston and check my phone, I see a missed

call and text.

Christian: Hey, beautiful. I know you’re

probably busy, but I really wanted to hear your voice. Call me when you get a

chance.

Aww…

Lugging my carry-on, I head out to get a cab and don’t

respond until I’m on my way to the hotel.

Ella: Are you free to talk?

My phone rings almost immediately.

“There’s my girl,” he says with relief when I answer the

phone.

“Hey, you,” I coo. “What’s going on? Bad day?”

“I’m still frustrated because of last night. There’s a lot

of pressure on tonight’s game, and the overall mood here is really intense.

Everyone was quiet at breakfast. I needed something to perk me up, and the

sound of your voice always does that for me.”

That is so sweet. I’ve always felt that way about his voice,

too.

“What if I said I can do better than just the sound of my

voice on the phone?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…what if I told you I’m in Boston and on my way to

the hotel?”

“Are you…are you serious? You’re here? Really?” I can hear

the controlled excitement. Like he’s afraid I’m joking.

“I’m really here, and I can’t wait to see you. Are you at

the stadium or…?”

“No, I’m still at the hotel. We’re not leaving for the

stadium until two, and I already worked out down in the gym. That’ll give us a

few hours before I have to go. How far away are you?”

“We should be there in less than twenty minutes.”

“I’ll meet you in the lobby,” he promises, then pauses. “How

did I ever get so lucky? I can’t believe you took time off to be here, Ella

Rose.”

“I wanted to be here,” I tell him. “Now, go do whatever it

is you need to do. I’ll see you in the lobby. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

We hang up, and I lean back with a sigh. I’m mentally and

physically exhausted from my schedule and being up so early for the flight, but

I take a few steadying breaths. This is the balancing act I’m still

learning—showing up for work, for my relationship, and for myself—sometimes all

at once. Sometimes at the expense of sleep and sanity. I need a few minutes to

regroup so I can be everything he needs me to be to help him get through this

game tonight.

Christian is waiting for me as the cab pulls up, and as soon

as I put my feet on the ground, he has me in his arms, spinning me around. I

can feel all the tension in him, and I hate it for him. I know my being here is

a comfort to him, but no pep talk will make things better right now.

When he puts me down, he takes my small suitcase in one hand

and holds my hand with the other. We make small talk on the way up to the

room—how’s filming going, how was my flight, did I eat breakfast? His concern

is sincere, but I can’t tell if he’s just making conversation or if he’s trying

to keep me from asking about the game. So, I simply follow his lead.

“How long are you here for?” he asks.

“Just tonight, unfortunately. My flight back to Atlanta is

tomorrow afternoon, but it’s all I could manage before I need to be back on

set.”

In the room, he puts my bag down before gently pulling me

back into his embrace. “I still can’t believe you’re here.” He’s fresh from the

shower, and I wrap my arms around him and breathe him in.

We gently sway to imaginary music, and I have to admit, I

needed this, too. I long for a time when we can be in the same place for more

than a day or two and have at least semi-normal schedules. I cherish these

moments when we’re together. Where I can not only see his face but also can

feel the warmth of his skin. Be comforted by his gentle touch. I can smell the

soap he uses, and I inhale deeply. Every bit of this is like a feast for my

senses but in the most calming of ways.

When we both pull back, I can see that this has helped him,

too, but I’m still at a loss for words. I don’t want to say the wrong thing or

do anything to get into his head, breaking his deep concentration about

tonight.

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