Epilogue
Decker
Losing sucks.
We had a great season, an excellent second half. We all thought we had it.
We fought hard each game for it to come down to the seventh game of the World Series.
As we walk off Webber Field, Toronto runs out, all of them cheering and celebrating, jumping around and congratulating one another.
It’s a hard thing to watch when we came so close. But we should be proud we gave it our all.
We all file into the locker room where there is no champagne. The lockers aren’t covered with plastic. There aren’t any reporters waiting to interview us. They’ll get around to us after they’re finished interviewing the champions.
We all go to our lockers, and even Drew doesn’t say a word.
We’ve been here before. Sure, not in a series like this, but in other big games that didn’t go our way. You reevaluate every play, every at-bat. What could we have done differently? What caused the loss?
Ripley comes out, gives us an inspirational speech about how proud he is, that we have a great clubhouse, and we’ll work hard in the offseason and come back stronger and better next season.
It’s a good speech, but at this point in our careers, we know the drill. Some of us will be here next year. Some of us won’t. Changes always happen in the offseason, and each season’s team is never exactly the same.
We all get into the showers then get dressed. There’s a contemplative mood in the locker room, not a celebratory one.
An intern rushes into the locker room, stopping short and frantically looking in all directions. “Foster!”
At the tone the intern uses, my brother bolts up from packing his bag. It’s clear it’s something big, most likely involving Callie.
Game seven wasn’t the best timing with Callie being in the last week of her pregnancy. Of course Foster told her to stay at home, and of course she said over her dead body. They agreed on her sitting in a suite. See? They’re learning to compromise.
“Is it Callie?” Foster grabs his bag and jogs out of the room.
Easton, Hayes, and I share a look, each of us grabbing our bags and following. Suddenly, the loss of the series doesn’t sting so badly.
Foster’s already at Callie’s side, and someone brings a wheelchair, which is good. Otherwise Foster would probably carry her out of here.
“Someone call an ambulance,” Foster says.
“No… no.” Callie shakes her head. “We can make it to the hospital.”
By some miracle, we all get out of the stadium and into Ubers. Leighton and Hayes have to wait for an XL for their whole crew.
Everyone is here.
Hayes and Callie’s parents.
My mom.
Leighton and the kids.
Easton’s parents.
And the new addition to our group recently… Penelope and her daughter, Hazel.
We’re all so busy picking cars and getting everyone to the hospital since we’re all going to be there for Foster and Callie that I don’t realize until I look at the seat behind me that I have Mom, Penelope, and Hazel in my car.
Well, this is awkward.
My mom makes conversation because she’s like that. Foster and I didn’t get her conversational skills.
Penelope answers her questions politely while I try not to hang on to every last detail she shares so I can know what her life is like these days.
Penelope is my maybe someday. Our paths have crossed, but we’ve never been able to stay.
I’m in misery for the brief ride to the hospital, and after we get out of the Uber, we file into the hospital, looking like an overly close family that doesn’t have any boundaries.
Not that far from the truth actually.
Somewhere in the midst of Callie and Foster disappearing, we all end up in a labor and delivery waiting room, vying for chairs.
We stay for fifteen hours, taking turns going in and seeing Callie as she sucks on ice chips and complains, deservingly so. We order food, we fall asleep, but all of us stay.
Finally, right before noon the next day, Foster comes out and gives us all the news. “Ellis Riley Davis has arrived.”
He looks as if he played all seven World Series games in one night, but I never thought I’d see that smile on his face.
I’m proud of all the work he’s done. He allowed himself to fall in love and managed not to blow it. I glance at Penelope playing with Hazel and Monroe. Foster is more courageous than I am.
We all take turns visiting with Callie and the new baby, and when my turn rolls around, I’m paired with Penelope.
Is the universe trying to tell me something?
Callie is in the hospital bed, and Foster’s at her side, running his hand over the top of her head. Ellis is in the bassinet.
“She’s beautiful.” I’m probably more sensitive than my twin brother, but I’m not an overly emotional guy, so I’m surprised by the surge of emotion I feel when I look at my niece.
“We’re hoping the blue eyes stick.” Callie smiles at Foster.
Foster comes over, picks her up, and holds her out. I’m a little surprised by how comfortable he seems maneuvering with the baby. “Ellis, this is your uncle Decker. Don’t go to him when you get in trouble, he’s one of those rule followers. Easton’s probably better for that kind of thing.”
The two of us chuckle, and he hands her to me. I’m a little awkward with the pass over, but I manage.
My brother and I are mending our relationship, which has resulted in me making some decisions about the woman to my right and why I need to keep my distance.
There’s still so much between us that hasn’t been discussed.
Maybe it should be buried and left to rot, never to be dug up again.
Leave it where it is, and we just all move on.
“She’s going to be a rule follower too,” Callie says.
“There’s nothing wrong with being a little wild.” Foster winks at Callie.
“A little bit maybe.” She smiles at where Ellis rests in my arms.
Penelope peers over my shoulder, her perfume surrounding me. I swear it’s the same one she used to wear.
“Here, did you want to hold her?” I hold her out to Penelope, and she takes Ellis with ease, of course, because she’s a mother.
Penelope rocks her and sways as if it’s all second nature. “Now I want another one. You forget what it’s like.”
“I’ll call you to handle the 3 a.m. feedings, and you can tell me if you still want another one.” Callie has so much love in her eyes as she watches Penelope with Ellis.
“Very true. But those days aren’t long in the grand scheme of things. And now someone is off for the season, so you have an extra set of hands.” She eyes Foster.
He goes to Callie’s side as if he needs to reassure Callie about his feelings for her, which is ridiculous. Anyone can see that my brother is head over heels for the woman who just gave birth to his daughter.
Ellis fusses, and Penelope holds her out to Callie. “You have a lot of guests who still want to love on her, so I’ll get going. Congratulations, you two.” She bends and hugs Callie, then nods at Foster.
Yeah, dead and buried is definitely the way to go.
I say my goodbyes to the happy family, and as we walk down the hallway toward the waiting room, Penelope tugs on my sleeve.
“So, does everyone know what went down with all three of us back in college?”