Chapter 18 Brady
brADY
The crack of bats connecting with balls over in the warm-up cages mixes with the low hum of the stadium getting ready to open the gates to the fans and the chatter of my teammates.
Sounds that normally help me get in the zone are doing nothing for me today.
I’m going through the motions of a warm-up I've done hundreds of times, and yet, everything feels off.
My shoulders are tight as I roll them in a circle.
My arms feel tired as I shake them out, trying to get my muscles to fire the way I need them to.
Even the warm-up jog we did as a team around the bases felt sluggish.
I could feel Coach Rafe’s eyes on me, probably wondering why I was at the back of the pack for the first time since joining the team.
It's not like I could tell him I've now had two sleepless nights with Sage in my apartment.
That's two nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wishing things were different between us.
And wondering why I can’t man up and tell her that.
Yeah, I can just see my head coach loving that drama-filled confession. I’d be benched for the game, if not longer.
But along with being stupidly exhausted, I’m also distracted as hell. I left two tickets for Sage at the front entrance, along with a generic Thunder jersey, with no name or number on the back.
Will she even come? Not a clue. I didn't see her this morning when I got up, had breakfast, and headed out the door early. I haven't looked at my phone, so I've got no clue if she's tried to reach me.
And I need to stop obsessing over it.
Bending down, I untie my cleats and retie them for the third time before standing up and jumping up and down a couple of times to fill them out. Nothing feels right.
“Hey Dixie, what’s up bro, are you okay?” Cal walks up beside me, doing a bad job of masking the concern on his face. Apparently I’m no good at hiding my emotions when I'm all messed up like this.
“Fine. Just tired,” I bite out, hoping he’ll back off and leave me alone.
No such luck.
Griff and Foxxy jog up to join us, Foxxy turning to Cal to ask, “Are you getting it out of him? What the hell is wrong with our starting pitcher today?” He turns to me with a smirk. “Of course, I can step in for you, if needed. But you gotta explain it to Coach.”
Cal shakes his head, still staring at me. “Nope, no answers from the big guy yet. C’mon Dix, you say you're tired, but honestly, it looks like more than that. You look like somebody just hit you head-on with a truck and then backed over you a second time.”
“Wow, thanks,” I reply, letting sarcasm drip from my words even as I tuck my glove under my arm.
“Way to make a guy feel confident.” I lift my cap up, rake my hand through my hair, then pull it down again.
“Seriously guys, it's nothing. I’m fine.” I shoot a glare at Foxxy. “And trust me. I'm good to start.”
Griff folds his arms across his chest and fixes me with a hard look. “I’m not buying it, Dixie, and if I've got to face down your fastball, I need to know your head is in the game. So what is it? Family stuff? Girl trouble?”
Cal scoffs, tossing the ball he’s holding up in the air and catching it. “Nah, we’d know if Dixie had a girl.”
“Actually,” I start, then stop, shaking my head. “Never mind.”
“Oh, fuck that,” Cal says. “You can't drop a bomb like that and then try to backtrack. Who is she? What happened?”
I clench my jaw, regretting ever opening my mouth. But I see Griff staring at me before dropping his gaze to the tight fist at my side. I force my hand to relax and exhale.
It’s not like I planned to keep Sage and our baby a secret forever, but right before a game doesn’t exactly seem like the best time to come clean.
Still, one look at the three guys standing in front of me, three men I’m starting to see as friends, not just teammates, and I know there’s no avoiding it.
I roll my shoulders. “I met a girl back in January when I had to go to Manitoba and deal with a few loose ends before moving out here. We hooked up, had a fun night, and I figured I'd never see her again. Then she showed up a few weeks ago here in Cedar Creek. Pregnant with my kid.”
Griff lets out a low whistle. “Holy shit, buddy. How are you feeling about that?”
“I mean, I didn’t ever expect to be having a kid right now, I only just got my siblings off to university.” I bark out a laugh. “Kinda figured I’d have a break in parental responsibility for a bit. But” —I shrug— “I’m not mad about it.”
“And what’s going on with the mom? Are things okay there?” Cal asks.
“That’s difficult to answer.” I grip my glove in both hands. “She’s awesome, incredible, really. We’re trying to figure it all out, you know? Parenting and all that. So I guess you could say we’re friends right now.”
“But you want more, don’t you, Dixie boy,” Foxxy says.
I don’t bother trying to deny it. “She’s staying with me right now, but I don’t know how long. In her mind, it’s all temporary. She’s trying to find somewhere else to stay, a short-term rental kinda thing.”
“Wait. How short-term? Is she gonna take your kid and bounce?” Foxxy’s voice is outraged. “She can’t do that.”
I hold up my hand. “No man, that’s not it. She’s letting me be a part of my kid’s life, no matter what. But she’s not from around here. She’s a travel nurse, so she’s used to moving every few months.”
“So would you go with her if she wanted to move?” Griff asks in a solemn tone.
“I hadn’t thought about that, but I mean, maybe? My kid’s gotta come first.”
“Fuck, dude, you better woo her into staying. I don’t wanna lose you,” Foxxy says, slapping his hand on my shoulder and squeezing it tightly.
I manage a wan smile. “Thanks, man. I don’t want to leave, either. Or stop playing baseball. But…” I shrug.
The guys are silent for a few seconds until Coach’s voice calls out across the field.
“Ten minutes, boys. Head to the locker room.”
“Good luck, Dix. Keep us posted, yeah? If there’s anything we can do.”
I nod, and Griff and Foxxy start jogging toward the dugout.
I turn to go as well, but Cal stops me. “That shit sounds complicated as fuck, Dixie.
But you're showing up. That's more than a lot of guys would do in your situation.
Maybe over time, she'll see that and change her mind about sticking around.”
I give him a terse nod, not trusting myself to say anything more. After studying me for another few seconds, Cal nods back before following our teammates off the field.
Alone again, I exhale slowly. I’ve got a baseball game to win.
Because who knows how many more I’ll get to play if I can’t convince Sage to stay in Cedar Creek.
The roar of the crowd cheering following the singing of the national anthem slowly dies out as we take our positions on the field.
This is it. The final moments before the game starts. I finally let myself do what I've resisted for the last half hour, and scan the area of the stands just to the side of the dugout where Sage should be sitting if she took me up on the offer of tickets.
I zero in on her almost immediately, her long dark hair tied up in a ponytail and tucked under a ball cap.
She's wearing the jersey I left for her unbuttoned over a white top that hugs the curve of her rounded stomach.
Another young woman is sitting next to her, and they're both smiling and laughing, so I can only assume this is her friend from Dogwood Cove.
She's here.
Her eyes are tracking everything, wide and curious, and the moment they land on me, a small smile creases her face, and she tentatively lifts her hand up in a wave. I lift mine in return.
“Is that her?” Griff asks, walking up beside me.
I turn away from Sage and her friend before answering. “Yeah.”
Griff claps me on the shoulder. “Okay, so she’s here. Now you need to forget about that and just pitch. Can you do that?”
I give him a sharp nod.
Fuck yeah, I can.
Except, apparently, I can't.
The start of the inning is a complete disaster. I throw two wild pitches and end up walking my first batter. The home crowd is grumbling, and my heart is racing. This isn't exactly the impression I wanted to give Sage at her first baseball game.
But the thought of having to leave this all behind in order to follow her and stay in my kid’s life has those earlier feelings of being off-balance and out of sorts showing up with a vengeance.
I try to shake it off and focus on steadying my breath.
I don’t want to lose this again.
The familiar sounds of the stadium filter away; the sights, sounds, and smells that I've grown up around disappear. The only thing that matters is finding Griff’s glove with the ball.
The next batter is ready, and I wait for Griff's cue, nodding when I see it.
I wind up and let it fly, my slider landing perfectly in Griff's hand, and the ump calls a strike. Two more quickly follow, and the batter leaves home plate defeated.
The next three go mostly the same, with only one of them landing on base, only to get tagged out by Hiro at second.
As the Thunder leave the field, my gaze darts up to where Sage sits.
She's looking at her friend, laughing at something, but I watch the friend nudge her with her shoulder and tilt her chin toward me.
Sage's head whips around, and she looks at me, flashing a thumbs-up.
I chuckle under my breath. Fuck, she's adorable.
In the dugout, I drink some water and roll my shoulder a few times before leaning on the railing to watch my teammates go up to bat.
The other team might not have been able to get a run on us in the first half of the inning, but their pitcher proves to be a tough one, and the first inning ends with no score.
Then I'm up again. This time, my focus is where it needs to be. The inning is fast and clean. Two strikeouts and a ground out, and we're heading off the field again. The crowd is cheering now, and my confidence is returning to normal levels.
Sage is sipping from a big fountain drink and looks like she's having a good time. I probably shouldn't let that mean anything to me, but damn it, it does.
The next several innings are tight and tense with both teams scoring a small handful of runs. It’s the bottom of the eighth when Coach walks over to me.
“You good to finish the game or is that arm tired?”
“I can handle it,” I say firmly.
He stares at me for a long moment, and I know he’s analyzing everything, trying to decide whether he should take my answer at face value or not.
“Okay. Finish out today, then we’ll rotate you off the next couple of games to give your arm a break.”
“Got it.”
My teammates manage to score two runs, giving us a small lead over our opponents. But I know I've got to hold them off so we don't lose that lead.
When Griff and I take to the field, he walks up to the mound with me instead of taking his place behind home. He places his hands on my shoulders and asks, “You ready?”
I nod. “Hell yeah, I am. Let's finish this.”
Griff slams his mask down and jogs back to his position.
The first batter takes the plate and I strike him out quickly and easily, along with his teammate, who goes up next.
But that’s where my luck starts to falter.
The next thing I know, there’s a runner on first and a runner on second, and I'm staring down a batter with a full count. If my next pitch is a strike, the game is ours. If it’s not, then anything could happen.
It's close. Too close.
The energy in the stadium is tense. But not as tense as the energy coiled up inside of me. This might just be a regular season game to everyone else, but for me, with Sage in the stands for the first time, it's a hell of a lot more.
It’s my chance to show her this part of me. And damn it, I want to impress her.
I look past the batter, right at Griff. He signals my pitch, and I wind up.
Strike three.
The crowd erupts, and within seconds, I'm swarmed by my teammates rushing the mound as we celebrate our win. As a group, we jog off the field, and my gaze lifts to scan the crowd. Sage and her friend are on their feet, clapping and cheering along with the rest of our fans.
And when her eyes meet mine, I let myself imagine, just for a second, that she’s not here watching me because she’s the mother of my child.
She’s here because she’s mine.