chapter 2
Baltimore
“We need help.” Pre-calculus got covered up by a meaty hand with a long career of cleat scars. I looked up into Shawn Tripp’s face and pulled the pencil from my mouth.
“Fernandez is having a breakdown over his wife. We tried.” He shrugged, and I was pretty sure that had been the full extent of any trying done.
“I’ve got…” I pushed his meat cleaver to the side. “Three more problems.”
“Come on, Ty.”
I glanced across the room at Fernandez, who tipped back a beer. “What idiot gave him alcohol?”
“It’s Fernandez.”
I snorted. “Fair enough.” I stretched, pushing back the textbook, and stood. Fernandez’s wife was on her third or fourth affair, but the first he had found out about. It hadn’t been pretty. We’d all dealt with the aftermath, through Boston, then Toronto, and now here.
I pulled at the chair next to Fernandez and sat. Reached over and stole a scallop off his plate. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.
“Want to talk?”
He shrugged. “Nope.”
I hitched my chair closer to the table. “You finished eating?”
He lifted his chin in a nod, and I grabbed a fork. Went to work on the remainder of his plate and met his eyes. He watched me warily, a good five minutes of silence between us before he let out a loud sigh. “You think I should leave her?”
I chewed his final scallop, musing over the question; my advice on affairs limited to midnight reruns of Dr. Phil. “Are you going to change?”
“Me?” He lifted his eyebrows.
“Yeah. Bring her on the road with you. If I was stuck at home for nine months a year, I’d cheat too.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” His thick accent was so adamant, I laughed.
“I might.” I reached for his beer, and he held it out of reach. “You don’t know me, Fernandez.”
He snorted. “Please, pepito. You wouldn’t.”
I leaned forward. “You would. You do.”
He avoided my stare. “I’m…”
“A guy? A future Hall-of-Famer?” I scoffed. “Don’t give me that shit. It’s the same. You don’t get a free pass because you have a bat of gold.”
“So what?” He looked me in the eye. “Two cheaters. What does that mean? We’re meant for each other?”
I stand up, my wisdom fountain almost dry. “Think about whether you’re ready to stop. If you’re ready to behave. That’s what you need to think about.”
He said nothing, just slouched in his seat and worked at the label of his beer. I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Love you, F.”
“You too, Ty.”
I did. I loved them all. I would do anything for those forty guys. And they would fight to their end for me. This team was my family, my soul. And I think that was what made everything that happened so damn complicated.