Page 65 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
“She, huh?” Raine shakes her head as she turns to Butch. “Damn it. How is Millie always right? Her ability to read people is so freaky.”
Butch shrugs. “I’ve always told you I think Millie’s part witch.”
I look between them. “Who are you talking about?”
“Never mind,” Raine says, pulling a room key out of her pocket. “This is the spare key to 1102. I swiped it for you before I left because God knows Deb won’t let you into that room. I’ve never seen her this mad.”
“Deb’s in Sophie’s room?” I ask as I start backing down the hall.
“Yep,” Raine says, nodding, “and she’s got full mama-bear mode activated. You might want to put your cup back on before you go in there.”
I stop in front of the room to try to steel myself for Deb. She’s gotten used to me in the past few years, but she was never a fan of Sophie marrying me. She was worried Sophie was too sensitive to deal with the attention that comes with my fame. I told her I could protect Sophie from it. It kills me that I was wrong.
As I walk into the room, I see Sophie sleeping on the couch with her head in her mom’s lap. I think Deb was half-asleep before she heard the door open. Her head bobs back up.
“Don’t wake her up,” she whispers, not returning my smile. “She just fell asleep. I’ll tell her you were here.”
“I don’t need to be anywhere right now.” I squat down in front of Sophie, push a strand of hair out of her face, and kiss her forehead. “I’m not leaving until she wakes up.”
I look up at Deb. She holds my stare for a second, and then looks away.
“Deb, I’m sorry about all of this—”
“Stop,” she says without looking back at me. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Deb.” She finally looks at me. I nod my head toward the door. “Can we talk outside for a second?”
“No.” She doesn’t move.
“Please, Deb,” I say, looking down at Sophie. “We don’t want to wake her up, remember?”
Deb continues to glare at me but finally lifts Sophie’s head onto the couch, stands up, and walks toward the door. I follow her and close the door behind us.
“Deb, I know you’re pissed—”
“Yes, I’m mad, Seb. Really mad. My daughter is getting attacked—verbally and physically—because of you.” She holds up her hand to stop me from saying anything more. “I know you love her, but I’m her mother. I won’t stand by and let this smear campaign happen. She’s the sweetest person in the world, and she’s being made out to be some kind of wicked creature because of you and what you do for a living.”
I close my eyes. “I know, and I feel awful about it.”
“That’s not enough, Seb.” She’s pacing when I open my eyes. She finally stops and looks over at me. “Maybe you two need a little time off from each other.”
“What?” I fall back like she just shoved me. “That’s not happening. I’ll quit baseball today before I’m separated from Sophie.”
“Will you? You’ve said that before, but you’re still playing.” She looks down when her eyes start getting watery. “I don’t care what you do. I just want my daughter to be happy and safe.”
I try to put my hand on her shoulder, but she moves away. “Deb, you know that’s all I want too.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Like I said, I’ll let her know you were here when she wakes up.”
“Deb.” I lunge between her and the door. “Sophie’s my wife. I’m going to be with her right now.”
She narrows her eyes into tiny slits. “What if she doesn’t want to be with you?”
“Then she can tell me that herself.” I open the door and block her from coming in. “I’m sorry I’ve brought this down on her and your family. I really am, but this is between Sophie and me. You need to leave.”
She tries to stop the door with her hand, but I press it shut. Sophie’s sitting up when I turn around. She looks confused.
“What time is it?” She rubs her eyes. “And what day? I feel like I just woke up from a coma.”
