by Marie Force
Maria.
I’m almost through them all when her name pops up. Her text is the only one I read now. That was AWESOME! I’m so happy for you! I was afraid to breathe in the 9th. I can’t imagine how you felt. Amazing. CONGRATS!!
I respond to her right away. Thanks! Surreal. You going to be up for a while? I feel a little guilty asking her to wait up when she has to work in the morning, but after the biggest night of my life, she’s the only one I want to talk to.
It’s crazy. I know it is, and yet… There you have it. I should be on the phone with my dad, who made me the pitcher I am today, and I will call him. But she’s the one I most want to talk to.
I get dressed and give a quick call to my parents, who’ll be waiting to hear from me.
“Austin,” my dad says when he answers on the first ring. “That was fucking fantastic!”
His enthusiasm is always entertaining. “Thanks, Pops. It was a good night.”
“You were on fire, son. I was beside myself.”
“He was,” Mom says. “He drove me crazy with his pacing and his swearing and his praying.”
I laugh, picturing the scene. “I can only imagine.”
“Congratulations, son,” Mom says. “We’re so proud.”
“Thank you.” Making them proud has always been important to me.
“How’s the arm?” Dad asks.
“Good right now. We’ll see what later brings. I gotta run. The guys want to celebrate.” The last thing I feel like doing is going out drinking, but I’d never deny my teammates the celebration after a frustrating season in which not much of anything went our way. If nothing else, we’ve got this perfect night that none of us will soon forget. “How’s Ev?”
“She’s wonderful,” Mom says. “Dad only had to read four books before bedtime tonight.”
I hate that I’m not the one reading to her, but my dad is the next best thing. “Thanks, guys. You know… For everything.” I have no idea what would’ve become of me after Kasey if they hadn’t rearranged their lives to be there for me and Ev.
“We love you, Austin,” Mom says.
“Love you, too.” I end the call and check to see if Maria responded to my text—she hasn’t—and then stash the phone in my back pocket. I’m the last one on the bus back to the hotel, and when I board, everyone goes crazy cheering and whistling and high-fiving as I make my way to the seat in the back they saved for me. We end up at a pub down the street from the hotel. I start a tab and insist on buying for everyone.
An hour later, I check my phone to find the text I’ve been waiting for.
I’ll be up for a bit.
“I’ve got to make a quick call,” I tell Santiago. “Be right back.”
“Are you calling the one you’ve been writing to every chance you get?”
“Blow me.”
“Say that to her,” he says as I start to walk away. “It might move things along.”
While he laughs at his own joke, I flip him the bird and push through the crowded bar, stepping into the cool September evening to call Maria.
“Hi there,” she says when she picks up. “Is this Mr. Perfect?”
“It is.”
“How you feeling?”
“Thrilled and relieved. The last couple of innings were tense.”
“You’d never know it. You were so cool and composed.”
“On the outside, maybe. Inside, I was saying to myself, ‘Don’t fuck it up.’”
Her warm, rich laughter makes me shiver as I look up at the sky, wishing she was here to help me celebrate. Maybe it’s the beer and champagne that loosens my tongue and my inhibitions, but I want to share that thought with her. “I wish you were here.”
“You do? Really?”
“Yeah, I really do.”
“Austin…”
“I know.” I close my eyes, tip my head back against the brick exterior of the pub and sigh. My arm is beginning to ache, but there’s a new ache in my chest that has nothing to do with baseball. “Believe me. I get it. I’ve got my own list of reasons why this is a bad idea for both of us, but you want to know what?”
“What?” she asks, sounding breathless, or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part. “You were the only one I wanted to hear from after the game. I got, like, two-hundred-something texts, and yours was the only one I read.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“I’m sorry to put you on the spot.”
“You didn’t. This has been so…”
“What?”
“Exciting, thrilling, fun…”
“But?” Why do I ask questions I don’t want the answers to?
“You’re looking at San Fran, Seattle, Anaheim, Chicago, Boston… I live in Miami. I’m happy here. My life and my family are here. I really like you. I’ve loved our emails and everything we’ve talked about, but I can’t set myself up to be hurt again. I just can’t. And I don’t want that for you, either.”
“In four days, talking to you has become the best part of my day.”
“Same here, and that’s why I have to stop it while I still can. Tell me you understand.”
Now she sounds tearful, and I hate that. “I do, but, Maria… Please, tell me we can still meet while I’m in Miami. If I were to mention to the team that Ev’s bone marrow donor lives in Miami, they’d want to do something… I’d only arrange that if you were up for it. I want the whole world to know what you did for us.”
“I’d be happy to meet you both and do something at the game, but that’s it, Austin.”
“Fair enough.” The pain in my chest intensifies as I realize I’m not going to be talking to her anymore. “I just want you to know that you’ve done way more than save my daughter’s life. You’ve also restored my faith in humanity. Knowing there’re people like you out there… You’re the best, Maria. Don’t let anyone ever make you feel otherwise. You hear me?”
A sound that might be a sob comes through the phone. “Yes. I hear you.”
I don’t want to end the call or sever the connection to her when all I want is more with her.
“I’m sorry, Austin.”
“I’m not. I’m so glad we got to know each other, and I’ll always, always love you for what you did for Ev. Call me any time. I’ll always want to hear from you.”
“I’m… I’m going to go now.”
I can hear that she’s crying, and I hate this. “Bye, Maria.”
The line goes dead, and my chest hurts so bad, I have to rub the ache. I feel like I’ve lost one of the most precious things in my life, which is a ridiculous way to feel about someone I’ve never actually met. I’m out there a long time, breathing the cool air and trying to get myself together.
It quickly becomes clear to me that I can’t go back inside. I’ve lost the desire to celebrate and party. I text Santiago, telling him to sign the tab and grab my card. I’m going back to the hotel.
What’s up?
My arm is hurting. I need to get some ice on it.
Everything else ok?
Yeah.
It will be. I’ve certainly survived worse than losing someone I never had in the first place. I walk back to the hotel and accept the congratulations of the man working the main door.
“That was some kind of amazing to watch,” he says.
“Thank you so much.”
When he asks for an autograph, I give it to him, even though I desperately want to be alone. I take the elevator to my floor and go to my room to grab the refillable ice bag I use after games. Following the signs to the ice machine, I fill the bag and screw on the cap. I should be on top of the fucking world tonight, but the game feels like a distant memory after the conversation with Maria.
I return to my room, lock the door and sit on the bed staring at my phone, which is still racking up the congratulatory texts hours after the game ended.
I open a new text to my agent, who sent his congrats earlier. I look at the screen for a long time before I start typin
g.
Put Miami in the mix for next season.
I look at it for a long time before I press Send.
MARIA
The day after Austin pitches a perfect game and we agree it’d be best if we didn’t continue talking every day, I do something I’ve never done in all my years of working at the clinic. I call out sick.
“Are you okay?” the receptionist, Angie, asks.
“I will be. I woke with a fever and headache, though.”
“Take it easy, and let me know how you are tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Ang. Sorry to leave you shorthanded.”
“We’ll be fine. Feel better.”
I feel so guilty for not going to work, but my eyes and face are swollen from crying, and I feel like complete shit. The part about the headache wasn’t a lie, and I feel as if I might have a heartache-induced fever. I just want to burrow into my bed and never come out. That’s exactly what I would’ve done if it weren’t for my family showing up later that afternoon with enough food to feed an army.
My mom, Aunt Vivian, Nona and Abuela have come to find out “what’s wrong with Maria.”
And how do they know I’m “sick”? If I had to guess, Jason arrived for his regular Thursday shift, told Carmen I called out, and she filled in the others. I’ll get her for that when I see her. For now, I’ve got to contend with four very savvy women who can take one look at me and see all the way through me, or at least that’s how it always feels to me.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asks as she leads the parade into my apartment, bringing an array of mouthwatering smells that have my stomach growling to remind me I haven’t eaten all day. I even skipped coffee, which hasn’t helped my headache. Mom takes me by the chin and examines me closely.
She’s a tiny dynamo with hair kept dark thanks to the magic of color, and shrewd brown eyes. I’m about six inches taller than her, but that doesn’t stop her from overpowering me the way she always does. “Did you get a strep test?”
“I don’t have a sore throat.”
“It might be strep,” Viv says. “One of the prep cooks had it last week.” Carmen’s mom lays her hand flat against my forehead. “You’re a little warm. Did you take your temp?”
“I did earlier, and it was normal. It’s just a bad headache. I’m fine.” I catch Nona studying me, and I know she can tell I’m lying. “What’s up with you guys?”
I’m treated to all the gossip from the restaurant and the neighborhood, as well as a plate of chicken marsala that makes my taste buds go crazy no matter how many times I have it. They sit with me while I eat, which I know is critical to getting them to move along. I want to tell them there’s nothing to see here, but I keep that thought to myself.
“Thanks, guys,” I say when they finally make the move to leave, probably when they realize I’m not going to tell them anything more. “I appreciate the house call.”
Nona is the last one to go. She hugs me and whispers in my ear, “I’m a phone call away if you want to talk about it.”
I squeeze her tighter. “Thanks.”
She kisses the top of my head. “Love you, sweet girl.”
I blink back new tears, refusing to give in to them until I’m alone. “Love you, too.” I close and lock the door, lean my head against it and let the tears roll down my face. How can I miss a man I’ve never met? How can I want more of someone I barely know? How can I be heartbroken when nothing even happened?
If it feels this bad after four days of talking to him, I did the right thing pulling the plug when I did. It’s not going to get better from here. That much is certain.
Since I’ve given myself this day to wallow in the sadness, I devour everything written online about his perfect game. I give my iPad a workout as I scroll through every story about his amazing accomplishment. It’s easy to tell that the baseball reporters like him, because of the glowing way they talk about him.
One of the Baltimore Sun baseball reporters wrote an opinion piece about how Austin has sealed his one-way ticket out of town with the amazing performance in Detroit. “O’s fans knew this day was coming, but it won’t make it any easier to say goodbye to a player who’s worked his way into our hearts, on the field and off. We won’t soon forget the epic battle he and his family waged to save the life of his little girl or the sense of victory we all felt at hearing she was in remission.
“Bad things happen to good people all the time. Austin Jacobs would tell you that. But sometimes, the good guys finish first, and I, for one, will continue to root for our ‘AJ’ no matter where he lands next season.
“Well done, No. 10. Very well done.”
I collapse into tears and body-jarring sobs. I hate this so much. It’s the worst feeling ever, even worse, somehow, than after Scott cheated on me. Maybe because I never got to have anything with Austin, and yet somehow, I know it would’ve been everything.
Chapter 7
MARIA
I cry myself to sleep and wake quite a bit later to someone knocking at my door. Moaning, I drag myself out of bed, run my fingers through my rat’s nest hair and open the door to Carmen and Jason.
“Oh, Lord,” Carmen says as she brushes past me on her way in. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“I only came because she made me,” Jason says. “I can wait in the car if you want.”
“It’s fine. Come in.” What does it say about my mental state that I could care less if my cousin’s smoking-hot fiancé sees me looking like shit? He’s blond, handsome and sweet. I adore him for her, and he’s been a damned good friend to me, too.
“Nona called me. She said you’re heartsick.”
“A little maybe.” I sit on the sofa and curl my legs under me, hugging a pillow that Dee gave me with a Marilyn Monroe quote embroidered on it: “Sisters make the best friends in the world.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“And yet you look like death warmed over.”
She is one person I can’t avoid, no matter how much I might wish I could. “We decided it would be better to put the brakes on before we get more involved.”
“Didn’t you just really get to talk to him for the first time on Sunday?”
“Yeah, but it got intense very quickly, and we were…” I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. It’s the best thing to stop it before it gets worse.”
“Hmmm,” Carmen says, making her contemplative face.
“What?”
“I’m just wondering why you’d stop something that makes you happy.”
“Because! He’s looking at teams nowhere near here for next season, and I don’t want to move somewhere else and… It’s just not what I want.”
“But you really like him.”
“Yes, I do,” I say, sighing, “but what good is it if we live thousands of miles from each other? That’s not what I want.”
“I understand that,” Jason says. “I didn’t want to live thousands of miles from Carmen, so I changed my life for her.”
“And I appreciate that more than you could ever know,” Carmen says with a smile for her fiancé. “But are you saying Maria should change her life for Austin?”
I have to stop this train before it leaves the station. “I’ve never even met him! I can’t be thinking about things like changing my life for someone I’ve never met just because I like talking to him. I’d feel the same way if this was you, Car. I wouldn’t let you lose it over a guy you’ve never met in person.”
“Thank you for that,” Jason says.
I smile for the first time since Austin pitched his perfect game. “I’ve got you covered, J. Don’t worry.”
Carmen seems to sag at the realization that I’ve done the right thing by putting some distance between myself and Austin. “I hate this,” she says.
“I hate it, too, but reality is what it is, and I refuse to set myself up for a disaster by becoming more involved with a man who doesn’t live here. Remember how it was for Dee when she and Marcus tried
to do long-distance? How long did that last?”
“Six months,” Carmen says, “before they realized it wasn’t feasible.”
“Exactly, and remember how crushed she was when they finally broke up? Why would I put myself through that knowing how it’s going to end?”
“I hear you,” she says, her expression as dejected as I feel. “But it sucks.”
“It totally sucks.”
“What can we do for you?” Carmen asks.
“Nothing. I’m okay. Really. I just needed a day.” To Jason, I add, “But we need to train you on gossip containment within this family.” I smile so he knows I’m joking. Kinda.
“Sorry, but in my defense, I only told Carmen you’d called out sick. What happened after that was out of my control.”
“My bad,” she says. “I was straight out at work and knew I couldn’t get here until tonight, so I asked Nona to check on you.” She doesn’t have to spell out how it spiraled from there.
“It’s fine. I got some awesome marsala out of it and enough other stuff to last me the rest of the week.”
“Was your mom extra?” Carmen asks tentatively.
We love my mom, but she can be, as Carmen says, extra at times.
“Not too bad. She thinks I have strep because one of the prep cooks at the restaurant had it last week.”
“Good,” Carmen says. “Let’s run with that. They don’t need to know the truth.”
“Nona knows it’s not strep.”
“She won’t say anything. She’s a vault with stuff like this.”
That is certainly true. Nona is awesome that way.
“There’s nothing to tell. It was a thing, and now it’s not.” As I say those words, the ache inside me intensifies once again. I figure that’s going to be with me for a while as I go back to the life I was leading before Sunday. I can do that. I will do that. After Scott, I promised myself I’d never let another man become so important to me that he had the power to crush me the way Scott did. I was doing pretty well with that vow until Austin came along.