Page 43 of Switch Hitter

I stare at them, stunned, and something about it makes my lungs loosen. I’m not alone. None of us are.

Kai nudges me with his elbow. “Just be you, and know we’ve got your back whatever the outcome is.”

I want my family to know. Maybe not today. Maybe not perfectly. But I don’t want to do it alone. So I do the only thing I can think of, which is pull my phone out. My fingers hover over the screen, and then I type, heart pounding like I’m stepping into the batter’s box.

Sean

I want to tell my family.

Soon.

Would you maybe do it with me?

I hit send, and almost a millisecond later, he replies.

Emiliano

When do we go see them?

NINE

EMILIANO

New York doesn’t let you breathe. It’ll turn your life into a story whether you asked for it or not. As soon as I step off the plane in Queens, it’s like the city recognizes me by my gait. By my shoulders. By the way, I move, always aware of my body, because pitchers are built out of routine and restraint. Even in sweats and a plain hat, I’m still me.

And being me comes with attention.

That’s the cost of being the Mets ace.

The airport is loud with rolling suitcases, couples arguing about directions, and kids crying because they’re tired. I keep my head down, bag slung over my shoulder, and phone in hand.

Sean’s last message sits at the top of my screen like a flare.

Sean

I want to tell my family.

Soon.

Would you maybe do it with me?

Emiliano

When do we go see them?

My chest tightens in a way that’s almost painful because that’s not just a normal text. That’s a man taking a step out of his own fear and trying to live. That’s a man asking for help instead of disappearing.

Sean

Easter. I think. If I can do it then.

The word “if” sits there like a bruise, and I exhale slowly, not because I’m annoyed but because I know him. I know what he does when he starts to feel too much. He gives himself an exit.

So I respond.

Emiliano

Okay. Easter. We’ll do it together.