“Between Mayo, Banner, and St. Joe’s.”
Her eyes widen. “Wow! What, you couldn’t find a full-time gig?”
I spin to face her. “I’m waiting for the perfect spot. How about you? Do you like Mayo? What group are you in?”
Jeff punches me on the bicep. “Look alive. You’re in.”
I jog onto the court. Between our games I don’t get another chance to talk to Liz. She opts out of the bar scene after, as do I. With her vehicle on the other side of the lot, I don’t have an excuse to follow her.
The hike meetup Saturday turns out about the same. Sam is absent, and Josie occupies my time. I hope Liz will go to brunch, but she doesn’t, and I almost decide to bail too. But I’m hungry and company is company, even if it does include Josie. The upside of the weekend is that it’s the first time I’ve gotten to work a whole series, three straight games at home against the same team. I’m not working with my regular guys, so it’s a bit more challenging, but it’s good that they chose me to fill in. It seems like the new players like me, and I’m hoping I keep moving up in the ranks.
“You alive in there?” Isabelle asks as I stare at my orange juice.
“Yeah, sorry, zoning out. After three twelves and two nights with the team, I’m beat. I should go grab a nap before tonight.” I down the rest of my drink and slide a twenty under my check. “You guys good?” They nod. “Great, I’ll see you next Wednesday, right?”
“Yeah, sure.” Jeff stands and shakes my hand as I get up. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“Bye, Zack.” Isabelle gives me a hug. “Hey, sorry about last weekend. Can we have you over for dinner this week?”
“That’d be wonderful.”
I spin to go. “Zack.” I hear Josie’s voice. “Bye.” She shoots me a huge smile and waves.
Walking out the door, I cringe, thinking it’ll probably take her less than an hour to get my number off the canyon trip group chat. I wonder if I led her on. Did talking to her make it seem I was interested? She can be entertaining and funny. Plus, it’s not like I had a choice, unless I want to be rude, which I don’t. Filing it in the out-of-my-control bucket, I drive home, shower, and plop down on the bed. I set my alarm and cover my head with the pillow.
“Zack.” Carlos greets me as I unpack my things in the PT room. “Hey, man. How you doing today?”
“I’m good. How ‘bout you? Everything feeling okay?”
He jumps to the table and slides his pants leg up.
“What are you doing?”
“The other guy’s good, but you know, I like my guy. Hook me up?”
“Sure.” I take out my tape and start to wrap it around his knee. “Next week Steve will be back, and we’ll be back on normal rotation.”
“Hope so. Hey, I got some extra tickets for next week. Do you know your schedule yet?”
“Nope, but I’d love to have them. I have some friends I wanted to invite.”
“Maybe that girl you’re holding out for?”
“I’m not holding out for a girl. Now go.” I hit him with the roll of tape. “Your trainer’s going to be jealous.”
“You know I don’t believe you, right?” He walks away, shaking his head.
Wednesday night I’m armed with my ten tickets. I decide to invite Jeff and Isabelle, Cody and Beth Anne, and the volleyball team. As we pow wow after our games, I announce my plan for the outing.
“It’s not the best game of the season. It’s the Phillies, but the seats are good.” Most of the teammates reply with a tentative yes, and I hand out the tickets. Liz approaches me. “I guess the Phillies may be your team, right?”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you kidding? My dad is a huge fan. He would kill me if I didn’t go to this game.”
“You’re in then?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Cool.”
I give them instructions on what gate and time to meetup. I’m glad it’s a Friday night so most of them can come. But really, I’m more excited about Liz than the rest of the team.
The next night, I’m back with Carlos and the rest of my guys.
“You bringing your friends to the game tomorrow?” Carlos asks as I tape his knee.
“Yep.” I nod.
“Here.” He sticks his hand in his bag and hands me several pre-game passes for the field.”
“Sweet, thanks.”
“That will impress the lady, eh?”
“I’m not showing off for anyone.”
“Oh, yeah, we’ll see tomorrow. Isn’t that right, guys?”
Juan, Mario, and Dave start in on the razzing. I act nonchalant, figuring if I react it will make it worse. Silently, I pray Carlos will be cool when he meets Liz.
Friday, I pick up a six-to-three shift, which leaves me plenty of time to get to the field. I arrive fifteen minutes before I’d instructed everyone to be there and hang out by a mister to stay cool.
My phone buzzes, and I look at it. I gave everyone my cell number in case there were issues. The message is from Beth Anne. CODY IS SICK, SO I GAVE OUR TICKETS TO JOSIE AND SAM. ONLY JOSIE CAN MAKE IT.
I roll my eyes, thinking she’s the last person I want there. Looking up, I see red hair through the crowd and roll on my heels, waiting for her to get to me.
“Hi, you made it.” I exhale. “Your hair looks amazing.” Wondering how those words came out of my mouth, I stuff my hands in my pockets.
She cocks her head. “Thanks.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen it down before.” I cover my perhaps random compliment.
“Oh, maybe not. Am I the first one here?”
“Yeah.” I check my phone for the time and messages. Seeing a new message from Jeff, I swipe open the text. WE HAVE TO BAIL. FRIDAY NIGHT AND EXHAUSTED.
BUMMER, I reply. I turn to Liz. “So, Beth Anne and Cody are out, as well as Isabelle and Jeff. But Josie’s coming, I guess.” I turn my phone over, checking the time again. “I say we wait another five minutes and go in. I don’t want to miss the pre-game stuff.”
Liz nods. “Sure. Have you been to a game yet?”
“No.” At least not from the stands, I think.
Growing anxious, I scan the crowd as the minutes pass. “We should go in. Let’s leave the field passes for the rest of the group at the window.” I point to the will-call window. As we approach the entrance, I stand back, waiting for her to enter ahead of me.
“Thanks.” She tucks her hair behind one ear and hands the worker her ticket.
It’s still early, and the crowd is sparse. “Do you want something to eat or drink?” I point at the concession stand.
“Maybe later. Oh”— she stops at the guy with the score books—“I do want one of these though. Do you score games?”
“I haven’t since I was a teenager. Why not!” I pay the guy for a booklet.
“Yeah, my”—her eyes cut to the book and back to me—“Dad taught me. We went to games together all the time.”
“Cool.” I motion to our aisle. “This way.”
I lead her down to our row, and she steps up to the railing. “The front row? We have front row seats.”
I pull the field passes from my pocket. “And field privileges.”
“You have got to be kidding!” She looks to the field and back to me. “My dad is going to freak. Do you think we can meet some of the players?”
“I think you can meet all of the players. Come on.” I almost hold out my hand to her but decide to motion to the stairway.
At the bottom, we show our passes to the security guard. “I know you.” He points at me.
“That’s me, always making trouble.” I wink at him.
There are lines to get signatures of all the major players, and I point at Carlos. “Come meet this guy.”
As we reach him, Carlos grips my hand and pulls me into his chest. “My man.” He slaps me on the back and releases me. “This her?” He points to Liz. “The chick you saving yourself for?”
My face flames, and I know it’s beet red. I
clear my throat, but before I have a chance to speak, Carlos reaches out to shake her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Carlos. Zack picked a pretty one.” He winks at her.
Now her face is blood red. She looks at me and back to Carlos. “We’re not… I’ve only spoken to him twice. But I know who you are.” She holds out her program. “Do you mind signing this?”
He takes the book. “Not at all.” Scribbling his name, he points to the other players. “Let’s go meet the other guys.”
Leading us up to the front of the lines, Carlos gets Liz signatures and pictures with all the players who are out signing.
“Hey, Carlos, Liz is sort of a Phillies fan, can you get us over there?” I ask.
Turning his wrist over, he checks his watch. “Yeah, I got time for that.”
We walk through the dugout and into their dressing room.
“You didn’t tell me you knew the players?” Liz whispers to me as we enter.
I shrug. “This is sort of my night gig.”
“You’re a trainer? That’s amazing!”
Carlos introduces us to a couple of the Phillies players, and Liz gets some more signatures and photos. Walking across the field to our seats, Liz sends some of the photos to her dad. “This is beyond dealy. He’s freaking out.”
“Dealy?”
“Oh!” She smacks her hand to her forehead. “I’m Irish. It comes out when I get excited. It means fantastic.”
“No, not a problem. So, that’s what your accent is?”
“And New Jersey.” She rolls her eyes.
“Well, if your family visits, I’ll be sure to get you guys tickets.”
“Why didn’t you mention you work for the team?”
“I don’t know. I don’t tell everyone.” I stop, letting her take the stairs in front of me.
“Not much for drawing attention to yourself?”
“I guess not.” I sit down beside her, hoping no one else will show. “Do you want a beer or some food?”
“Yes. You can’t come to a baseball game without a beer and a hot dog.”
I raise my hand to flag a beer guy. “Totally agree.” He comes quick, and I’m about to offer to pay for her drink when she pulls out cash. “Hey, can you flag a hot dog guy for us?” I ask as I hand him my money.
Sipping my drink, I take in the view. The stands are starting to fill. I thought the enclosed stadium wouldn’t feel the same as an open one. But, with panels to let in natural light and the size and height of the structure, it doesn’t feel like we’re inside.
“So, what’s it like working for the team? How does that work?” Liz asks as she sets her beer in the holder.
I tell her about Carlos and my regular guys and how we sit in the locker room watching the game. “It’s kind of my dream job, so I’m taking what I can get right now.”
“That’s really cool.”
“Hot dogs?” A guy stops in front of us.
Looking to Liz, I hold one finger up. “One, two?”
“Oh, only one.”
“Two dogs.” I tell the guy and hand him the money.
When we sit down with our food, she pulls out a five. I decide not to fight her on it, although every cell of my body is screaming for me to insist on treating her. “You know my grandmother is rolling over in her grave right now.” I take the bill and slide it in my pocket.
“Because I’m paying my share?”
“No, because I’m not being a proper gentleman.”
“This is the furthest thing from a date ever. We’ve spoken like twice. I’m pretty sure I got invited with the whole team.”
I guess she thought Carlos was giving me a hard time. I’m not sure whether to be glad or not, but I move on. “How about you? How’s the job going?”
She tells me about the cancer floor she’s on with Lydia and Rose, and how she’s not sure she could work with terminal patients forever. We talk a little more about my crazy schedule, and then the game starts. I need a refresher on the scoring, and she reviews it for me. We watch and record. I think the Phillies could hire her as a statistician based on how much she knows about their players, and I compliment her memory.
“I grew up in a house full of girls.” She looks down to her book. “My dad, kind of took me under his wing.”
Noticing she hesitates each time she mentions her dad, I wonder if there’s more of a story there. But I’m not going to ask, especially since this isn’t a date. Plus, she told Carlos we’d only spoken twice. I’ve talked to her at least four, probably five times, but I’m not mentioning that either.
Cold hands cover my eyes. “Guess who made it?” Josie’s husky voice travels to my ears.
Forcing a smile, I stand up to let her pass. “Hey, take a seat.”
“Hi, Liz.” She scoots past us and sits down. “That traffic was crazy.” Taking a long chug of the beer in her hand, she continues to talk about the congestion on the roads. I refocus on the game and score sheet, hoping she doesn’t monopolize the conversation.
In the third inning, Carlos comes up for his second at bat. He got walked and stranded in his earlier attempt. Their pitcher has been walking a number of players, and I wonder if he needs to come out. The first pitch is outside, and Carlos lets it whiz by. I watch as the second seems to be outside. Jumping to my feet, I see him try to duck, but the ball hits square on his helmet as he does. I fly to the steps and jump over the railing to the field. A security guard grabs me as I run towards Carlos. I flash the guard my badge, and he lets go. When I reach Carlos, the manager and his assigned trainer for the night are already there. Carlos is out cold, and they ease his helmet off. His face is drained of color, and Amanda’s pale face flashes through my memory. Blinking, I erase the image. A medic runs out with a stretcher, and I help roll Carlos onto the backboard. My phone rings, and I almost ignore it but then think it could be Eva. Glancing at the screen, I see it is. I answer the call.
“Hey, he’s going to be okay,” I say.
“Oh, God. You don’t know that.”
“His helmet is cracked. It took the brunt of the hit.”
“Man, that was some pitch.” I hear Carlos’s voice.
“See, he’s okay.” I pass the phone to Carlos. “It’s Eva.”
“Hey, woman, you get that on tape? That was something. Whoa, I thought I was going to heaven.”
They lift him and walk to the dugout and into the med room. He hands me the phone as they start the exam. “Stay on the line with her. She’s freaking out.”
“Hey, Eva. They’re checking him out. But he seems completely fine.”
“Okay, stay on the line with me.”
“I will.” I watch as they check his spine and test for a concussion.
“Looks like a minor contusion, but we’re getting you a CT scan just in case,” the doctor tells Carlos.
“What are they saying?” Eva asks.
“He’s going to have a CAT scan to be safe.”
“Is that at the hospital?”
“No, everything is here.”
I wait the five minutes till they bring him back to the exam room. Eva is praying her rosary, and I hold the phone away from my ear. The doctor pulls up the scan results and gives him an all clear.
“That mean I get my walk?” Carlos sits up.
“Go back, give a wave, and sit your butt on the bench.” The manager walks out.
“Whew, you looked more scared than me.” Carlos slaps me on the arm.
“Just call your wife.” I back out the door. I make my way into the fan area and down to our seats. “Wow, I could use another beer after that.” I slide into my seat beside Liz.
“What was that about?” Josie stands. “I had no clue what was going on. Liz says you work for the team? Why didn’t I know that?”
“Is Carlos okay?” Liz asks.
“Yeah, there he is.” I point to the field as he waves to the crowd. “His CT scan was clear.”
“He got lucky. They have a CT machine here?”
Josie steps around Liz, and I stand to let Josie by. “I need another drink. Want to come?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.” I sit down.
“Fine.” Josie rolls her eyes and starts up the stairs.
I turn my attention back to Liz. “He got really lucky. And they have everything down there. I could give you a tour sometime.” I lift my hand and flag the drinks guy. “Do you want anything?”
“No, I’m good.” Liz refocuses on the field.
I pay the attendant and spin the top off the water bottle. “Sorry I reacted like that.”
“Are you kidding? Your friend got hurt. I would be worried if you didn’t respond that way. A healthy respect for mortality is a good thing. It beats being narcissistic.”
I’m guessing she’s talking about Josie and wonder what else she said to Liz. “No, psychology major joke for me?” I turn to face her.
“Your friend that got hurt playing volleyball, was he or she okay?”
“Yeah, she was.” I take another long sip of water.
“I guess seeing Carlos down there like that would bring it all back.”
I don’t want to think about Amanda. “Carlos will be okay.”
“Whoa, the lines were super long back there.” Josie appears beside me, and I stand for her to pass to her seat.
Play continues, and I get back into the scoring thing. Josie teases us about it, and I start to feel like she’s resenting that we have this mutual interest. The seventh-inning stretch comes, and we all retreat to the restrooms. Josie grabs another mixed drink, and I wonder if I should cut her off.
“Hey, did you drive?” I ask her as we take our seats again.
“Yeah, we’re going out after this, right?”
“I was thinking not. Are you going to be okay to drive home?”
“You can give me a ride, right?”
“I guess.” I open my tally sheet again.
Josie rolls her eyes and takes a long sip from her cup. “Guess I’m calling some friends. Do you want to hang out, Liz? Meet some new peeps?”
Liz looks to Josie. “Wow, that’s nice of you to invite me. It sounds like fun. But, I’m coming off a string of long shifts and don’t want to be in too much pain tomorrow. Another time?”
“Sure.” Josie lifts her phone and starts texting.
Deepest Scars Page 5