The Sweet Spot (All About the Diamond #1)

by Naomi Springthorp

  Cross takes the first pitch outside, ball one. Shows bunt on the second pitch and smacks the ball foul, one and one. He gets the bunt down toward the third baseline on the third pitch and legs out the throw from the third baseman. Chase is safe at first.

  Rick walks to the plate with so much intensity it should be illegal. He nods at his teammate on first. He takes the first pitch up and inside, a little close to his handsome face for my liking. He continues to crowd the plate. The next pitch is a low passed ball and Cross advances to second. It’s a 2-0 count. The third pitch is a fastball on the inner half of the plate, Seno swings and connects. It’s a beautiful sound off the bat, fresh and sharp. The horn sounds and the fireworks fly, 2 run homer! Seals are ahead 5-3. The next three hitters were struck out at the plate and we held the other team to 3 in the top of the 9th. Seals win 5-3.

  Seno and our veteran closer Doug Houck are the heroes. I watch the on field interview girl, Hannah, trying to get their attention for interviews. She has Houck, but Seno is nowhere to be found. I sit in my seat watching the interview, I catch the rookie’s eye and he waves at me. No need to go down by the dugout when I have every autograph. I wait for the crowd to thin out and walk back to the trolley for the ride home.

  Chapter Three

  I usually go home and relax on Sunday after the game. Maybe read or go hang out at the beach. Today I’m stuck in baseball mode. I turn on the TV and load up one of my favorite past games. Seno’s major league debut.

  The team is away for the next three days playing the Arizona Assmunches. No, that’s not their real name, I’m a huge fan and the other teams suck no matter what! Thursday is an off day. Friday they’ll be back at home playing the Denver Douchebags for another three game series. Today is a get-away day, the team has probably already had their post-game briefing and they're packing up for their trip to Phoenix.

  I’m wishing I would’ve at least thanked Rick for the duffle bag, glove, and autographed ball. I can’t do it now because I don’t have his phone number or email address. I jump on the internet to see if his email address is public on his social media, but it’s a futile attempt. He’s not a social media guy, but the rookie is! Cross is on Twitter right now giving his run down of the plays he made today. I message him:

  Sherry: Hey Chase! This is the blonde from Saturday night who needed Rick Seno’s autograph. Will you please thank Rick for sending me that awesome gift at the game today? I didn’t want to be in the way after the game, since I obviously don’t need any autographs. Hope you don’t mind me messaging you, Seno doesn’t have any social media. My thanks to you and the rest of the team.

  Better. I want to show him my appreciation, but still leave the next move for him to take or not.

  I turn some music on and review my work schedule listening to my favorite 80’s station. Might as well get a jump on this week and get caught up on what came in while I was enjoying my weekend. Nothing better than belting out “Voices Carry” by ’Til Tuesday to help clear your mind and set you to concentrate on work. Luckily, I don’t have to worry about work clothes or a boss or anything. I run my own travel service from home and most of it’s done by email, so I’m in control of my schedule and my dress code. I’ve gotten a few emails from customers since I signed off late Friday afternoon, two thanking me for planning them such fabulous trips, and another asking me to plan a trip for their group. I specialize in beach locations, but I can arrange itineraries for anywhere. I reply to the emails, asking for pictures from the fabulous trips and request additional details for the group trip. My calendar has a few follow up items that will need to get taken care of on Monday and I need to do my social media updates. I’ll be ahead for the week and have time to work on my fantasy baseball stadium tour vacation.

  I start some laundry, because it’s a vicious cycle and consider dinner. The 80’s station continues with the Pseudoecho version of “FunkyTown” and it has me dancing around my kitchen. I check the refrigerator, but there’s nothing I want and a girl cannot live on Dr. Pepper alone—I’ve tried. I settle on the half pint of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream I have left in the freezer and a trip to the grocery store sometime in the near future.

  I get a social media ping from someone who’s not on my list and shows as a brand new account:

  Notabaseballplayer: I’ve got this song stuck in my head and I don’t know what it is, but it made this girl’s hips swing and it’s driving me crazy.

  Sherry: Girl’s hips swing when there’s good music. You might need to contact a doctor.

  Notabaseballplayer: My doctor can’t cure this problem... he doesn’t have the right equipment.

  Sherry: The song is “All Right Now”, it has a great swinging groove to it’s bass line. Does that help?

  Notabaseballplayer: I just checked with my doctor and he prescribed time with hips.

  Sherry: What doctor is available on Sunday night? Quite an odd prescription.

  Notabaseballplayer: Dr. Cross

  Sherry: Is that Dr. Chase Cross?

  Notabaseballplayer: Yes.

  Sherry: He’s a baseball player, not a doctor. He’s cute though and does make a mean diving catch.

  Notabaseballplayer: You think he’s cute?

  Sherry: Every female in the Northern Hemisphere thinks he’s cute and some of the men do, too.

  Notabaseballplayer: Do you think he’s cute?

  Sherry: Absolutely. He’s one of my favorite players and a real cute kid.

  Notabaseballplayer: Who’s your favorite player?

  Sherry: This catcher guy. He’s a total hunk and a real man. Calls a great game and holds the record for throwing out the most runners from behind the plate.

  Notabaseballplayer: Tell me more about this guy. He sounds interesting.

  Sherry: He’s 28 and single. Stands about 6’1”. Has blue eyes and looks sexy in his catcher’s gear.

  Notabaseballplayer: Do you have a thing for baseball players?

  Sherry: There’s one baseball player I’ve got a thing for. The rest of them I cheer for because they’re on my team.

  Notabaseballplayer: On my team, huh? Are you part owner or something?

  Notabaseballplayer: You mean you only have a thing for one player now, right?

  Sherry: I’ve had a thing for the same player and only that player since his major league debut. I never had a thing for any player before him.

  Sherry: Don’t be a smart ass! I just claim the team as my own! Go Seals!

  Then the messages stopped. I determine then and there I should prepare for next weekend. Positive attitude to get positive results. Manicure, pedicure, facial, waxing—all on the agenda this week. I need a new dress for Wednesday night karaoke, too. This girl deserves some pampering.

  I add the games for the week to my calendar and block out the time so I won’t be disturbed. I get ready for bed and find myself putting on my Seno jersey. My bed smells like him. (Note to self: Don’t wash the sheets.) I strip naked, wrapping myself in his scent and memories of the last 24 hours.

  Chapter Four

  Monday morning came quickly and I hit the snooze a few times before I force myself to open my eyes. Not tired or lazy, simply upset the alarm went off while I was dreaming. Wait. I drag my hand across the bed checking for someone there with me and roll over to get a visual on the situation. This time it’s a dream, though it sure seemed real. A video of scenes from our night together, set to music and on a continuous loop. I smell my coffee is ready and roll out of bed, pulling on some denim shorts and a purple tank top. I visit my coffee maker and thank it for preparing my morning caffeine.

  Coffee in hand, I head to my desk to check my schedule, email, and social media. The game starts at 6:10 today. I have confirmation calls to make this morning and I need to review itineraries for anything last minute a couple of my regular customers may need. I need to call and check in on three clients who are currently on trips, make sure they’re enjoying themselves and there are no hiccups. Only one new email this mor
ning, photos from a trip to Oahu one of my repeat customers recently returned from, they’ll be perfect for updating the website this week and sharing on social media. Nothing new on social media this morning, not surprising—it’s Monday.

  I call the salon and schedule their Pamper Me Package for Wednesday. I spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon handling business. I’m not a Monday person, but then again who is? I hit the mall in the afternoon to shop for a dress, but nothing jumps out at me and says “buy me!” I stop off at the thrift store and there’s a vintage dark purple suede mini dress circa 1980’s on the mannequin in the window. It’s absolutely perfect for the songs I’ve chosen, it screams 80’s Rock Ladies. I go inside and immediately climb into the window display to investigate. It’s the right size and only $15! Having it! I drop off my new-to-me dress at the dry cleaner, stop to pick up dinner, and hurry home to watch the game.

  I check my messages while the announcers do the pregame show and sit down to eat while I watch my team prepare to take on Arizona. The lineup is about normal. Cross is leading off, followed by Martin. Seno is hitting sixth. Arizona has their ace pitcher on the mound tonight and they’re on a five game winning streak.

  The game starts off good with Cross getting a base hit, but it gets erased when Martin hits into a double play. Repeat that a few times and it sums up the game. We lost 4-0. It was painful to watch. They’re my team and I stand behind them either way. There are 162 games in a season and you just don’t win them all. Seno did his job behind the plate and got on base twice, but nobody brought him in to score.

  I grab a book to read and relax for a bit. I’ve had my favorite author’s new book waiting for me about a week now and that’s unacceptable. About 50 pages in I hear my social media ping.

  Notabaseballplayer: Did you watch the game?

  Sherry: I never miss the game.

  Notabaseballplayer: You could’ve missed tonight’s game.

  Sherry: Any day with baseball is better than a day without it.

  Sherry: Noticed you have a nasty bruise on your collarbone. Did you get hit?

  Notabaseballplayer: Like a truck. Don’t you remember how that hickey got there? I’ve been the target of all clubhouse fun since I walked into the stadium Sunday morning wearing the same clothes that I left in Saturday night.

  Sherry: I did that?

  Notabaseballplayer: You have no idea what you’ve done.

  Sherry: Thank you for the autograph. I especially like the heart after your name.

  Notabaseballplayer: I’m glad. Now, no more baseball. Okay?

  Sherry: Scouts honor. Would you like to buy some cookies?

  Notabaseballplayer: I want your cookies. That’s for sure.

  I didn’t respond for a few minutes. Not sure what to say. I don’t want to be a booty call. Then again…

  Sherry: Chocolate chip or peanut butter?

  But, he was already gone.

  Tuesday morning is a happy busy blur, four new trips to plan and the details for the group trip came in. I work my ass off to get it all done, because I’m basically planning to ditch on Wednesday between my appointment to get pampered, the early baseball game, and karaoke night. I pick up my suede dress from the cleaners and make a stop at the grocery store. I toss all the usual suspects in my cart plus a few sandwich fixings, pick up a pizza, and go home to watch the game.

  Tuesday’s game went much better. Same lineup again, but the Assmunches couldn’t do anything right—they had two errors in the first inning and we were capitalizing on them. Cross finished the game with a single, a triple, and a home run—only a double shy of a cycle. Martin had two doubles. Seno hit a homer and everybody else was on the hit list at least once. We won 7 – 0 and used up their bullpen. It was fantastic!

  After the game, I spend time in my closet putting together my karaoke outfit. The purple suede mini dress is very 80’s, it needs appropriate shoes and accessories to make the statement I’m striving for. It’s a cool dark purple, so I choose silver accessories: a shiny metal belt made entirely of misshapen links that will leave links dangling once it’s around my hips, a few bangle bracelets and a two inch wide faux chainmail choker with a teardrop amethyst charm hanging from it. The dress itself is short, but not so short it will reveal too much when I’m on stage. It’s fitted and feels like it was custom made for me. The top is low cut in a sweetheart neckline and snug like a bustier with two thin straps of ribbon over each shoulder. My black leather thigh high boots will be perfect.

  I hear my social media pinging.

  Notabaseballplayer: Can I take you out Thursday?

  Sherry: What do you have in mind?

  Notabaseballplayer: Dinner. I feel like I owe you.

  Sherry: You don’t owe me anything. Thanks.

  I log out. I don’t want to see anything else he has to say. How does he make me such an irrational girl? He’s going to buy me a meal after we already fucked because he didn’t do it beforehand? Not on my time. His loss.

  Five minutes later my phone starts to ring. The caller ID says Phoenix, AZ.

  I answer the phone nonchalantly, “Hello?”

  “Hey! This is Chase. Seno is being a stupid ass, so I looked your number up on the internet and I’m calling you so I can hand him the phone.”

  “Hi, I don’t want to talk to him right now...” and I get cut off.

  “Sherry?” comes over the phone in the voice I’ve been dreaming about.

  “Yes,” I reply curtly.

  “Please listen to me. I’m sorry my message didn’t come out right. I feel like I owe you because I invited you out and didn’t even buy you a drink,” Rick’s sincere tone attempts to melt me. “Will you go out with me Thursday? I want to spend some time with you and get to know you.”

  “Look, I don’t know what you think. I’m not a booty call. I’m not a player chaser. I’m not your San Diego sex. I have more respect for myself than that,” I spout off irritably.

  “Just stop,” he says with a sigh. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Yes, I want to see and feel your hips, but its more than that.”

  “I need to sleep on it. I’m not sure about going out with a baseball player.”

  “Remember, I’m not a baseball player with you and I don’t want to be.” He hangs up.

  I immediately log on to my social media and message him…

  Sherry: What time are you picking me up on Thursday?

  Notabaseballplayer: I’ll be at your place about 6:30.

  Sherry: See you then.

  Notabaseballplayer: Can I have your phone number? Cross won’t give it to me.

  Sherry: 619-555-1269 Tell Cross he can call me anytime, and you can too.

  Notabaseballplayer: You don’t need to talk to Cross.

  Sherry: Yes, I do. You wouldn’t be messaging me right now if he didn’t call me.

  Notabaseballplayer: See you Thursday.

  Late to bed and I need to get up early for my pampering. Not the best combo. I’m going to need an afternoon nap to make it through karaoke.

  Chapter Five

  I wake up Wednesday morning before my alarm goes off and jump out of bed. I’ve been waiting for karaoke night because it’s not just any karaoke night—tonight will decide who moves forward to the final five. I’m excited about the 80’s Rock Ladies theme, totally my genre. I’ve been competing every other Wednesday for three months, with a different theme every round. It’s down to ten of us performing tonight, when we started there were thirty of us. I’m going to dress the part and I’m going to rock it! Rules for tonight say I’ll be singing three songs and to have a fourth song ready in case there needs to be a tie-breaker. Here’s my set list for tonight, but I haven’t decided which one to save for the tie-breaker:

  “Shadows of the Night” by Pat Benatar

  “Alone” by Heart

  “The Warrior” by Scandal

  “Kiss Me Deadly” by Lita Ford

  I’ve had fun singing karaoke with friends over the years, but i
t’s always been fun and good times. I’d never signed up for a competition and I’d avoid the bar on competition night. My karaoke buddies all decided we should sign up for the competition and I fought it, but in the end I went along with them. If we’re all going what could it hurt? Well, believe it or not it can hurt. I’m competitive by nature and let’s just say challenge accepted. Five of my buddies and I signed up to try out. Three didn’t make it passed the try out round. My remaining two friends got dropped in week 1 and week 2. Here I am, its week 6 and I’ve been accused of taking it too serious. I’ve made it this far and I’m going for it. My friends still love me and will be there tonight, even though they’ve all made excuses and told me they won’t.