Page 44 of The Curveball
Then I come across a posting for an overnight position stocking shelves at a grocery store in Cedar Creek. It's a step below what I used to do in Manitoba, but at least it's something I have experience doing. And it’s something I might be able to juggle along with my commitments to the team and to Sage. If I get my foot in the door now, I can probably get more hours in the offseason.
I fill out the online application, my thumb hovering over the button to submit it for several seconds before I finally click on it. I set my phone down and look back at Sage. She deserves so much more than a guy stocking shelves at a grocery store part time. She deserves a manwho can give her everything. A partner who can take care of her as much as she'll allow.
I want so badly to be enough for her and our baby. And I'm terrified I never will be.
Her head falls forward and she makes a small noise. Grabbing a throw pillow, I place it on my lap, then carefully ease her down to rest on it. She doesn't stir. Not even when I lightly rake my fingers through her hair. Or when I carefully skim them over her stomach.
When she still doesn't move, I place my palm flat against where our baby is growing.
Keeping my voice barely above a whisper, for the first time, I talk to my unborn child.
“Hi baby, it's your dad. I want you to know, I love you already, and I’ll love you forever. No matter what happens. You're the best unexpected surprise I've ever had in life. And I swear, I will do everything I can to give you a life full of love and happiness. Your mom… I never saw her coming.” I pause, swallowing down the emotions that are rising. “But now, I can't imagine my life without her or you in it.”
This moment is everything I want. And if this moment is all I get, I'll take it. And cherish it forever.
But goddamn it, I don’t want this to be it. I want more.
18
BRADY
The crackof 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 looklike 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?”
