Chapter Nine #4
As if reading my mind, he smiles. But it’s a little sad.
“You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. We can talk about the game and
all that. Right now, I’m just thankful that I have your beautiful face to look
at instead of being here by myself, obsessing about the game tonight.”
Away games have a way of feeling claustrophobic. Hotel rooms
are smaller, kitchens are nonexistent, and there’s no slipping into the
ballpark early to settle into a familiar routine. Instead, you sit and watch
the clock, waiting for time to move. I’m glad I’m here to break that stillness
for him, even if it’s only for a few hours.
“Did you call SJ and let him know you’ll be here and need a
ticket?”
“I did, and it’s set. I’ll be right there with all the other
WAGs.”
He chuckles softly as he glances around. “I don’t see any
Hello Kitty purses anywhere.”
I know he’s teasing, and it makes me feel better because,
even though it’s silly, he’s able to think beyond the game. Even if it’s only
for a little while.
“I didn’t have time to grab one. I’ve been taking this big,
boring one to the set every day so I can throw everything I need into it. It
just made sense to bring it today.”
“Well, I personally love it when you have your favorite bags
with you, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t leave them behind on purpose.”
So, yeah, I told him about all the whispers about my purses,
and he was completely on my side about not letting anyone change who I am or
dictate what I love.
He asks about the show as he gets ready, and I tell him
about some of the funny sketches we’re working on. I notice him wince more than
once, and I can’t tell if he’s in physical pain or if what I’m saying is
bothering him. I can admit that the humor in some of the sketches is a little
more risqué than we like, but I’m sure that’s not going to be how it is all the
time.
“They’re really playing more on my looks right now, but once
I’m more comfortable with the writers and the cast, I’m sure I’ll get more of a
say.”
He just nods.
We have lunch together, talking about everything and
nothing, and before we know it, it’s time for him to get ready and head to the
team bus. I wish he were already in his uniform so I can tell him how cute his
butt looks or something flirty to make him smile, but I already know he’s
getting into the zone. He’s quiet as we head down to the lobby
together, but all I get to do is give him a quick kiss before he joins his
teammates.
The stoic baseball player is back, and I respect it, even as
I call out, “Good luck! You’ve got this! Go Magic!”
I watch him leave and say a silent prayer that things turn
around and the night ends on a positive note.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t.
And I’m so focused on the loss and seeing the utter
devastation on Christian’s face that I don’t even pay attention to the people
around me. But then again, I doubt they’re focusing on me either. Except…we’re
all silently united in a state of mourning for the men we love, whose playoff
dreams ended tonight. This is the first time I feel like I am truly bonding
with these women, and it stinks that it’s because of a major loss. We’re quiet
as we leave the stadium, and I have no idea what Christian’s state of mind will
be in when he gets back to the hotel. All I know is that I’m glad I’m here for
him.
On the ride back to the hotel, I can’t help but remind
myself that…we did it.
We made it through a baseball season.
I made it as the girlfriend of a Major League Baseball
player.
That was our goal before spring training began. This was my
test. Our test. We needed to see how I could handle Christian and all
his structured routines.
Personally, I call them superstitions, but I learned early
on not to use that word.
So, they’re routines.
However, his routines are intense and quite
lengthy. He has his game-day routine scheduled down to the minute.
Except for today, when he handled my showing up and
interrupting everything like a champ.
He eats the same thing every day, he always has to wear
clean clothes—he couldn’t wear anything twice without washing it. That one was
fairly normal. But that did not apply to pajamas. Because if he had a hit
streak…he would not wash his pajamas…otherwise, it would break the
streak. He could not step on a line or a crack… Ugh, so many rules!
And I know we spent more time apart than together this
season, and that at some point, these rules will be a part of my everyday life.
But now, I can be prepared for when that time comes.
Still…we made it.
Tomorrow we’ll have to say goodbye again, and I’m already
dreading it. I’m going to fly back to Atlanta, and he’ll head home to Anaheim.
We’re officially in the offseason for him, so we’ll have more time together,
and things will go back to the way they were.
Weekends in Newport Beach.
Less flying.
Starting to maybe put down some roots and really begin
planning the future we’ve both been dreaming of.
I’m already looking forward to it. It’s finally within my
reach. It makes me smile and fills me with hope.
Only I had no idea it wasn’t going to happen.