Grand Slam

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “T-r-a-v-i-s.” I say each letter slowly, while Saylor helps her write each one out.

  “If you ladies would excuse me, I’m going to use the little boy’s room.”

  Lucy must find this funny, because she laughs so hard that she ends up snorting, which in turn makes her laugh even harder.

  A few of the men recognize me on my way to the restroom. I stop and pose for pictures and sign a few autographs. I figure I have a few minutes before my food is supposed to arrive. Guys even follow me to the bathroom to talk about spring training and the retirement of Bainbridge. It’s creepy as fuck to be taking a leak while other men are chatting about your stats and the other guys on your team. I take longer than necessary to wash my hands, hoping they’ll leave. The last thing I want is for them to follow me back to my table.

  With the coast clear, I open the door and run smack into a woman, who hits the other side of the wall from the force of the impact.

  “Shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” I reach for her arm to help her stand up straight.

  She nods and moves her hair out of her face. The recognition is instant. My arm drops, and I take a step back.

  “You,” I seethe, only to have her smile smugly in return. I open my mouth to say so much more but know that I can’t. She’s not worth going to jail for.

  “Won’t the district attorney love to hear about this?” she says.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You pushing me into a wall. It’s probably frowned upon.”

  Before I can react, she’s pulling out her phone. I don’t stay to find out who she’s calling. I can’t risk it. I rush back to the table, thankful that our food hasn’t arrived, and grab my coat.

  “We gotta go,” I say, grabbing Saylor’s arm to help her stand up.

  “What? Why? What’s going on?”

  I lean over the table and grab Lucy, smacking her legs on the underside of the table. She cries out as I cradle her to my chest.

  “Travis, what’s wrong?” Saylor asks as she runs behind me, trying to keep up as I rush to the exit.

  “I’ll tell you in the cab.”

  As soon as I’m outside, I whistle for a cab that pulls up almost immediately. Saylor gets in, and I hand her Lucy, who has started to cry.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  I glance out of the back window to see if anyone is chasing us. “When I came out of the bathroom, I ran into a woman. She hit the wall, and when she looked at me, it was her.”

  “Her who?”

  I look at Saylor and see her eyes deaden. She knows without me even saying. “She said she was letting the DA know that I assaulted her.”

  “What was she doing there?” Saylor asks.

  “I don’t know, but I’m fucked.”

  Saylor looks forward, pressing her lips to Lucy’s hair. She holds her daughter tightly, keeping her hand locked around her wrist. Something tells me that I shouldn’t try to touch her, even though I really need to feel her hand in mine, because I’m starting to freak the fuck out.

  Twenty-Four

  Saylor

  I knew the risks of being with Travis, yet I’ve continued to allow him into my life, into our lives. I let my feelings for him cloud my professional obligations and once again I found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time with him. Why of all people did she have to be there to ruin our day? Everything was going so perfectly, and for a brief moment, I could picture us as a couple. And in the blink of an eye, a random trip to the bathroom changed that.

  This is a sign. I know it. I can’t be with Travis, not anymore. I have too much to lose, and as much as I hate saying it, no man is worth my job or my daughter. And even as I look over at him, I can see the worry lines in his forehead. He’s closed off and angled toward the door as if he’s going to make a run for it. I realize we’re both scared, but for different reasons.

  The taxi pulls up outside my apartment, and while Lucy and I get out, he pays before joining us on the sidewalk. We both go to speak but stop ourselves and smile.

  “I’m going to go,” he says, pointing over his shoulder. Travis steps away before I can even acknowledge his statement. He leaves us standing on the sidewalk, wondering what the hell just happened.

  “Where’s he going?” Lucy asks, squeezing my hand tighter.

  “I don’t know, baby.” My eyes dampen with tears as I watch him walk down the street. I half expect him to look back and wave, but he doesn’t.

  Lucy and I ride the elevator in silence, and even the sound of Christmas music doesn’t make me smile when we step off onto our floor. The Christmas spirit I had has been diminished by the past hour, and I shouldn’t feel that way. Even Lucy seems melancholy, and she doesn’t have a clue about the real reason our day went south.

  Inside our apartment, I turn on our tree, letting the white lights sparkle throughout the room. “How about some hot cocoa and Rudolph?” I ask Lucy as I help her take her coat off.

  “Can Travis come back?”

  I quickly shake my head. “Not right now, sweetie.” She starts to balk, but I don’t pay attention to the impending fit. I unbutton the back of her dress and usher her off to her room to change into her sweats before doing the same thing.

  One look at my bed pulls me up short. This morning, we left bed in such a hurry that neither of us pulled the covers back into place, and I didn’t make it after he left. Usually only one side is a mess, but now it’s the whole bed, the corners untucked and pillows strewn everywhere. Visions of last night run through my mind. My flesh warms as I remember his hands kneading my skin as desire built between us.

  I change quickly and grab my pillow and quilt, determined not to sleep in there tonight. I have a feeling a night of Lifetime movies are in my future once Lucy is asleep. It won’t be the first time I spent a night like this feeling sorry for myself.

  Lucy is waiting for me in the living room, dressed in her Rudolph pajamas with matching slippers. The sight of her makes me smile even if my heart is breaking.

  With cups of hot coca, complete with marshmallows, in our hands, we snuggle together through a marathon of holiday movies. Lucy has seen some of them so many times that she knows all the words and recites them as the characters do. Only when I can hear just the voices from the television do I realize that she’s fallen asleep. It would be so easy to keep her in my arms, but the truth is that I want to be alone. I want to shed tears and not have her wake and ask me what’s wrong. I half expected Travis to call or stop by, and the fact that he hasn’t has me feeling like he’s used me, but I know I shouldn’t feel that way.

  After tucking Lucy in, I snuggle under my blanket and get lost in the world of cheesy holiday drama. Each story is the same, second chances at love, and here I sit, hoping for a chance. I thought I had found my forever when I met Elijah. He was paving my way to happiness. I was utterly destroyed when he left me, and I vowed to never let it happen again.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen, but somehow Travis relentlessly whittled away piece after piece of my resolve. And when I finally opened the door and let him in, he slammed his shut. It seems that I should probably forgo any attempt at falling in love. It’s better that way.

  The faint sound of my cell phone ringing has me scrambling off the couch and to my purse, dumping its contents onto the floor. My heart races as I’m on my hands and knees, searching through God-knows-what until I pick up the cold metal object. I close my eyes, not even looking at the caller identification, knowing it’s Travis calling to apologize.

  “Hi, Travis,” I say breathlessly.

  “Ahem.” The throat on the other end clears. “Saylor, it’s Elijah. Should I assume that Travis is the man you are representing who is accused of rape?”

  Everything in me turns cold as I clutch my phone to my ear. I swallow hard and prepare to save face as much as I can, because the man on the other end can easily ruin the rest of my life.

  * * *

  “Merry Christmas Eve,” Lucy yells as she comes runnin
g out of her room. I take a big sip of my coffee and close my eyes. My finger presses into my temple as I try to push away my headache.

  Last night I had every intention of throwing myself a pity party because of Travis, but instead I paced the floor, taking breaks only to write down everything that I remembered about my relationship with Elijah after we broke up. I had a sinking feeling that I was going to need that list.

  He called to tell me that he’s back in town and that his wife and their two perfect children are with him, and they’re here to meet Lucy. I tried to explain that it’s Christmas and that we could set something up for afterward, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. He doesn’t seem to care that his family is holed up in a hotel during the holiday.

  “What time do you think Santa will be here?”

  “After you’re fast asleep. He won’t come if you’re still awake.” I pull a bowl down from the cabinet, adding some cereal and milk to it. She looks at me and frowns. “What’s wrong?” I ask her.

  “I want pancakes.”

  I shake my head. “We don’t have the stuff to make them. I’ll go to the store later.”

  “Order them like Travis does.” She puts her hands up in the air, as if ordering takeout is the solution for everything.

  “I can’t, Lucy.”

  “Why not? Travis does.”

  “Well, Travis isn’t here. Now eat, because there is someone coming over to meet you.” I leave her in the kitchen and retreat to my bedroom, where behind my closed door I let the tears fall. I was stupid enough to have a glimmer of hope in thinking that Travis was going to be my knight in shining armor and that he’d come in and save me from everything, including the Big Bad Wolf that is Elijah, but I was wrong. He was only here to save himself, and when he realized that I wouldn’t be the one to do it, he bailed. He has to know that, even after the other day, I won’t tell Irvin that I saw him at the bar.

  The doorbell chimes, and I angrily wipe away my tears before going back to the living room.

  “Are you done?” I ask Lucy as I head toward the door. She nods and gets down from her chair. “Head to your room and get dressed, please. And don’t come out until I come to get you.”

  “But I want to see Travis,” she says through gritted teeth.

  “Lucy…” I pinch the bridge of my nose in hopes of calming my temper. “It’s not Travis. Please go to your room.”

  Lucy crosses her arms and huffs before stomping all the way down the hall. I jump when she slams the door. “I feel your pain,” I mutter to my empty living room.

  Elijah presses the doorbell again and does so repeatedly. I contemplate leaving him there but know he won’t go away anytime soon. I open the door in a huff and glare at him. “I heard you the first time. You don’t need to keep pressing the bell like a petulant child.”

  “Fitting comment coming from you,” he says as he steps over the threshold and into my home. He holds his trench coat in his hand, but I don’t offer to take it from him. His comment has me reeling, hating him for bringing up the fact that I did the exact same thing to him once after he left me. It wasn’t one of my finer moments, but I was pregnant and desperate.

  “Where is she?” he asks as he walks around my apartment. He picks up her school photo and holds it in his hands. He smiles briefly before setting it back on my mantel.

  “Getting dressed.”

  “Did you tell her about me yet?”

  I shake my head. “Nope. It’s really not a conversation I planned to have on Christmas Eve.”

  “It gets done today, Saylor, and frankly it should’ve been done a long time ago.”

  “And what would I have said about why you missed her birthday, Christmas, and everything important to her over the years?”

  “I would’ve been here if you had asked.”

  “See? That’s the problem, Elijah. I shouldn’t have to ask or remind you. You should be here because she’s your daughter, not because you got a phone call.”

  I leave him standing there and go into Lucy’s room. She’s sitting at her small table, coloring. “What are you coloring?” I ask as I crouch down next to her, only to find a picture of Travis, along with other BoRe players.

  “Travis gave it to me.”

  “That’s very sweet of him.”

  She nods and continues to color his jersey red.

  “Come on—there is someone here to see you.”

  “Is it Travis?” she asks again, and I shake my head, watching as her face falls. She sets her crayon down and places her hand in mine. My heart beats a thousand times a minute while my palms begin to sweat. I swear I’m about to have a heart attack the closer we get to the living room. Elijah owns me right now, and he isn’t afraid to make everyone around me pay if he doesn’t get what he wants.

  Elijah is still snooping when we come back in, and when he looks at Lucy, she molds into my leg. He saunters over, trying to show her that he’s a man who should be revered. Too bad she doesn’t give a shit.

  “Hi, Lucy. I’m Elijah. Do you remember me?” He extends his hand to shake hers, but she doesn’t budge.

  “Hi,” she mutters.

  He sighs and looks at me. I shrug, hoping he understands that he’s on his own. I’d probably be more willing to help him out if I had kept her from him, but I hadn’t. He kept himself from her. I have no sympathy for him.

  We stand awkwardly in the middle of the room while he stares down at Lucy. You would think that for a man with children, he’d be less rigid, that he’d be more fatherly, but instead he’s all business.

  Lucy grows impatient under his gaze and starts to fiddle with the hem of my dress. Normally, I’d find something to distract her, but I’m afraid that whatever I do, Elijah will take it as a sign that he’s welcome to stay, and he’s not.

  “Mommy, can I go back to my room?”

  “No,” Elijah barks out, causing us both to jump. I glare at him, hoping he can see the rage in my eyes. He has no right to speak to her like that. As far as I’m concerned, she’s my daughter, not his. Lucy clings to my leg, turning her head away from Elijah. Her soft cries break my heart.

  “I think you should go, Elijah.”

  “You know that isn’t happening, Saylor.” His eyes are cold and dark. The venom behind his words is meant to threaten me, and it does.

  I nod, remembering his threat all too well. The call late last night was not only to warn me that he and his family were coming to town but also to voice his displeasure over Lucy spending time with Travis. It seems that our skating adventure had made it into the papers, unbeknownst to me, and Elijah doesn’t want Lucy anywhere near Travis. I defended Travis, letting Elijah know that Travis hasn’t been charged with any crimes, to which he replied with a terse “yet” and then proceeded to remind me that he’s very good friends with the district attorney. That was enough to give me pause and left me with no choice but to open the door for him today.

  “Elijah has something to tell you.”

  This time he squats down and tugs on one of her curls. I have to stare at Lucy because I don’t want him seeing that he’s getting the best of me. I feel her head turn against my leg as she looks at him.

  “I’m your father, Lucy.”

  She shakes her head, and big fat tears start to fall. “But I want Travis to be my daddy.”

  Elijah rises to his feet, towering over me, and even though he’s not taller than Travis, he makes me feel three feet small under his murderous glare. I swear there is steam coming out of his nostrils as he bellows at me.

  “Fix this or I end him.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before he’s out the door, slamming it hard enough that the pictures rattle against my wall.

  Twenty-Five

  Travis

  This isn’t how I imagined I’d spend my Christmas Eve, alone and in the clubhouse. I had hoped I’d be with Saylor and Lucy, or at the very least on my parents’ yacht. To say my life is epically fucked up right now would be an understatement. I was s
tupid to think that my name alone would be enough to clear me of any charges, but as time goes by, so does my resolve.

  Irvin tells me that the charges will be dropped if I give him the name of my alibi. He had reminded me that the DA is grasping at straws and that he’s using the other women to make me admit to something I didn’t do. Until yesterday I believed him. Until yesterday I thought everything was going to go away but the look in Blue’s eyes, or Rachel’s, really hit home that this isn’t going away, and that she’s out for blood. She’s cold and calculated and clearly a very scorned woman because I didn’t take her home. I can’t even imagine what my life would be like now if I had, although I can’t imagine it could get much worse.

  I was tempted to call the guys and see if they wanted to come work out, but the potential rejection was too much to take. Branch has his son, Cooper has his twins, and I’m sure Ethan has returned to Seattle. They all have lives and don’t have time to butter up my ego to make me feel better about myself because I’ve had another run-in with the woman accusing me of rape.

  Honestly, I half expected to be woken up by the police, showing me their shiny handcuffs and reading me my rights. I scoured every online news agency, looking for any sign that the state’s attorney is coming after me, only to find the wires quiet.

  What I haven’t done is call Saylor to apologize for ditching them yesterday. That wasn’t how the day, and night, was supposed to go. Everything started out so perfectly, and the run-in with that woman changed my entire outlook on life, the day, and who I was dragging down with me in this shit storm of trouble. Saylor and Lucy don’t deserve to be in the middle of this crisis, and honestly, I should’ve listened to Saylor from the beginning when she told me that she couldn’t be with me. But I pushed, and to her it probably looks like I got what I wanted and bailed. Classic Travis Kidd move.

  The stadium is dark and cold, matching my mood—exactly how it should be. People should be home with their families today or out buying last-minute gifts. I had every intention of ordering everything that Lucy had asked Santa for, but only ended up with a few things before my sour mood last night found me nursing a bottle of vodka instead of trying to make a little girl’s Christmas morning more magical. Besides, if Saylor were smart, she’d tell Jeffrey to reassign her and let my public image swirl down the drain with the rest of the sidewalk trash.