Chapter 2
Quentin
“Mais c’est pas possible,” I groan as I roll over in bed, the sound of someone mowing their lawn waking me up much earlier than I’d like on my day off.
I prop myself up in my bed to look at the time when a dull pain spreads in my shoulder.
It’s already been six months since the accident.
I was in the passenger seat next to Ryker, my brother-in-law, when another car t-boned us in a parking lot before he could do anything about it.
While I have been cleared to play and I’m the healthiest thirty-six-year-old that anyone’s probably ever seen, my shoulder’s required more recovery time than before.
In baseball years as I like to call it, because most careers don’t have an average retirement age of thirty, I’m heading to the downward end of my career. I should’ve been on this path sooner, but even at thirty, I was at my peak and continued to show my skills past that without decline.
But I fear that might not be the case much longer.
Something my agent is adamant about reminding me of every time we talk. Especially since my contract is up once this season ends.
My phone rings from my bedside table, and I sigh as I stretch across my bed to grab it. As if I manifested him into reality, my agent’s face fills the screen, so I let out a quiet sigh and answer it.
“What could you possibly need from me at nine in the morning on a Saturday?” I grumble.
“Great game last night, Q. It’s a great start to the season and I need you to keep that up if we’re going to secure another contract from the Panthers,” he speaks a mile a minute, always right down to business.
“I’ve been doing exactly that,” I reply dryly.
Normally, I’d care more about contract renewals and what comes next, but the truth is that I’m getting tired.
I have no idea what my life will look like without baseball, but all I know is that I want to take myself out of the game before my shoulder does.
Retirement might be something I need to consider. And that thought terrifies me.
“I know you are. You’re the best pitcher in the league, and we’re going to use your stats this year to bargain with them. That’s why I called, just to tell you to keep it up. We’ve got an entire season to go, so don’t let up now. You know that Kelly is vying for your ace position.”
A sense of irritation snakes down my spine at the mention of my rival teammate, but I push it down before I reply with, “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
“All right, I got another client to check in on. Q, enjoy your day off,” he says hurriedly, rushing off to the next thing on his to-do list
“Have a good day, Andy,” I reply before hanging up the call and tossing my phone to the side.
A yawn escapes me as I stretch my arms. Days off are rare and far off in between. So as much as I’d love to fall back into the sheets and rest some more, it’s my niece’s birthday today, and I should get going before I spend my day in bed.
With a resigned sigh, I slide out of bed and hop in the shower. After, I down some scrambled eggs and toast with a coffee, then make my way over to my sister’s place, which is a mere two-minute walk from mine.
We live in a quiet, private neighborhood outside of Detroit, where many professional athletes and their families do. I’ve been here since I started with Panthers twelve years ago, and it’s become my safe haven from the frenzy of the media.
I use my spare key that my sister gave me when they moved in years ago and unlock the front door. The smell of coffee and the sound of my niece running down the stairs instantly hit me.
“Uncle Q!” she shouts happily as her long, dark hair bounces around.
“Hey, Liv, or should I say, the birthday girl. How old are you today?” I ask as I crouch down and wrap her in a hug.
She giggles against my shoulder before pulling back and holding up six fingers.
“I’m six years old today,” she says proudly.
“Phew, six already? You’re getting old there, kid,” I say.
“Me? Dad says you’re old,” she sasses, clearly having inherited her father’s attitude.
“Your dad is lucky he’s married to my sister. Otherwise—”
“Otherwise what?” Ryker chimes in as he walks into the room and crosses his arms against his chest.
“I would kick your A-S-S,” I spell out.
I’ve known Ryker ever since he met my sister in college, and although he’s a pain in my ass, both as a teammate and brother-in-law, he and Camille couldn’t be more perfect for each other.
Oliva’s mouth pops open, my attempt at ensuring she didn’t understand the curse word clearly failing. “I know how to spell, and that wasn’t very nice, Uncle Q.”
The three of us burst into laughter at that, and she takes off toward the kitchen, where my sister likely is.
“Can you believe she’s already six?” I say as I clap Ryker on the shoulder.
“It feels like it wasn’t long ago that Camille was telling me she was pregnant.”
I still remember the exact day it happened.
We had just won our first World Series and the entire team was celebrating on the field when she blurted it out.
They’d been trying for so long and she couldn’t keep the news from us any longer.
I knew how important it was for my sister to start her own family and I couldn’t have been happier to see her get everything she’s ever dreamed of.
“Time flies,” I comment, wishing I had the power to slow it down.
We head toward the grand kitchen space and find my sister hunched over, making latte art like she always does.
“Hey,” she says, looking up.
I march to her side and wrap my arm around her shoulder, planting a kiss over her head. “Hey, little sis. Ca va?”
“C’est l’anniversaire de ma fille, alors je ne peux pas me plaindre,” Camille responds as she flits her gaze to her daughter, who’s perched on the stool, watching her intently.
“Do you need help with anything for today?” I offer as I back away and lean against the kitchen island.
“Ryker couldn’t sleep after the game, so he prepped the food last night. So now we can relax and enjoy the day together.” She stands up straight, having finished with her art of what looks to be balloons likely for Olivia’s birthday, her eyes on her husband standing next to me.
“Although, we might need your help next weekend when our friends and their kids make the trip here to celebrate her birthday. Their schedules could only make it work next weekend, seeing as everyone’s so busy, but I don’t mind either way.
I’ll just be happy to see them,” Camille says, giving me a bright smile.
“We have a string of home games next weekend before we hit the road for a week, so I’ll be around to help out,” I say with a nod and turn to Olivia, who’s been sitting rather quietly. “So, birthday girl, what’s the plan today?”
“Swim, eat, and laugh,” she says excitedly.
“And laugh?” I repeat.
“I always laugh when I’m with you, Uncle Q,” she replies, her big brown eyes looking at me with so much love in them.
My heart swells in my chest at the sight. God, I love her as if she were my own. Since Ryker and I are on the same team and we live so close to each other, I get to spend a lot of time with her and it’s my favorite thing in the world.
Growing up, I was never close to my parents, seeing as they had royal duties to fulfill. I spent most of my days getting into trouble with Camille, or helping her out of it.
So Camille and I had a bond different than the one with our other three siblings, and when she had her own kid, it hit me harder than I ever thought. Being Olivia’s uncle is by far the most rewarding and best thing I’ve ever been a part of.
“You got it, Liv,” I say.
I give her a fist bump, to which she bumps me back with all of her strength. I pretend my hand hurts and she bursts into a fit of laughter.
Olivia then takes my hand and brings me to the living room to play checkers, where we begin our day together.
We spend the rest of the day doing exactly what she wants.
I laugh as I watch Ryker toss Olivia into the pool, with her water wings on, of course, followed by my sister, whom he places over his shoulder, and jumps into the water.
I had just gotten out minutes ago, choosing to dry off and watch as they enjoy themselves.
When they surface from under water, Camille splashes water at Ryker, and Olivia joins in. Eventually, Ryker grabs a water gun nearby and gets them back, their high-pitched squeals and laughter like music to my ears.
But beneath the music, there’s a pinch in my chest when I see them together as a family.
Being the pitcher of one of the biggest teams in the MLB, I have everything I need. I never have to think about money and the guys on my team have become my family.
Hell, I even relinquished my title as Prince to live this life, having left Lorsica to live here and pursue my dream. Don’t get me wrong, it was all worth it for the life I get to live now. It was all I ever wanted.
But now that I’m nearing the end of my career, it’s hitting me more than ever that there’s a void in my life.
With my recent thoughts of how far my career is going to go, it’s been hitting me lately that I’m alone.
I go home to an empty house. I wake up by myself.
It’s quiet and predictable. And when I’m with my sister, Ryker, and Olivia, it makes me realize how much I want what they have.
“Uncle Q, get in here!” Olivia demands, breaking up my thoughts.
I can never say no to her, so I get out of my chair, take a running start, and cannonball into the water.
Olivia wears herself out so much between swimming and practicing gymnastics as she does hand stands and cartwheels in the backyard that by the time one o’clock rolls around, she’s fallen asleep on Camille’s lap as we sit around the patio table.
“I’m going to go lay her down. I’ll be right back,” Camille says before getting up and heading inside.
“You’re a lucky man,” I say to Ryker.
Ryker leans back in his chair and watches my sister and niece head inside, a look of appreciation in his eyes. “I really am the luckiest man in the world.”
“And I’m happy to be a witness to it.”
“Thanks, Q. We love having you around.”
We’re silent for a beat, letting the sun beat down on us as we relax, until Ryker speaks up.
“By the way, are you going out with the team tonight?” he asks, changing topics.
We usually have games on the weekend, but we also get at least one complete weekend off per season to offset all of the travel, physical exertion, and overall mental stress. So, since we are off tonight, the boys want to take advantage.
“Nah, I’m too old for that stuff as you say,” I mock.
“Oh, shut up.” He shakes his head. “You should go and have fun with the guys.”
“I see them enough as it is.” I shrug. Don’t get me wrong, I love my team, but I don’t feel the need to go to every team outing. I see them often, and as I’ve gotten older, going out isn’t what it used to be. I’d rather be in the comfort of my home or someone else’s.
“Okay, then go out for the sake of maybe meeting someone? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you with a girl.”
“It’s lost its appeal over the years. Sure, it can be fun, but…” I trail off, unsure of what exactly it is I want instead.
“But what?”
“I’m just tired of the same old routine. Meet a pretty girl at a bar, flirt, have sex, and then never see them again.”
“Then date someone,” Ryker suggests casually.
A shudder rolls through my body as images of the last time I dated someone come to the forefront of my mind. “We both know how that went the last time I tried.”
“That wasn’t your fault. She was—”
“Please, not today. I’ve already had enough stress for the day.”
“What’s going on?” he prods as he leans forward and rests his forearms on the table. “You know you can talk to me if you want.”
I rest back in my chair and let my head lean there for a moment as I sigh deeply. “My agent called.”
“Again? What does that make it? Every day this week?”
“Yeah, and it’s always the same story. He tells me how well I’ve been playing and to make sure I keep it up if I want the team to renew my contract,” I tell him, leaving out how I truly feel about it.
“And you’re not sure if you want that,” he adds without me having to explicitly say it. Over the years, Ryker and I have become like brothers, and he knows me better than anyone.
“It’s complicated,” I confess.
“You have the entire season before you need to make a decision,” he says, taking a sip of his beer. “You should go out tonight. Going home to stew about it won’t help.”
“I don’t know…”
Ryker rolls his eyes. “Camille told me that the two of you used to get into all kinds of trouble back home. Where’s that guy? Go out and have some fucking fun.”
I used to be the life of the party. The outgoing, adventurous one.
But ever since what happened with my ex-girlfriend, I’ve been more careful.
Maybe I do need a night out to let go for once. To step outside of my comfort zone and do something different.
I’m tired of the same old routine, and this might be exactly what I need to shake things up.