Crushing It: A Love Between the Bases Novella

by Jennifer Bernard

  “Hi Teri, I got your message about the gathering, and don’t worry, I’ve called it off. I completely understand your feelings. Of course baseball is a team sport. I can see why you’d rather focus on the games. Please do call if you’d like to talk further about this. I don’t want to bother you, but I’m on the edge of my seat waiting for the team’s decision.”

  “Congratulations, Teri! Such amazing news! Crush called to tell me that the Friars are putting you on the Catfish roster! You just made history! On my watch right here in Kilby, Texas! I can’t wait to see your first outing. Wait, should it be ‘your first inning’? Honestly, the terminology can be very confusing, but nonetheless, I’m absolutely thrilled for you.”

  * * *

  Wendy checked her phone for the hundredth time in the past day, but Teri still hadn’t responded to her calls or texts. She didn’t know what had gone wrong between them, but clearly something had. She wanted to ask Crush, since he spoke to Teri frequently on pitching-related matters. But lately, things had shifted between her and Crush. They still got together for incredibly hot sex. That part kept getting better and better. He had only to touch her, only to look at her a certain way, and she wanted him.

  But he no longer showed up at her events, and she missed him. She missed meeting his sardonic glance after an especially ridiculous speech. She missed the scorching manner in which he assessed her outfit du jour. She missed the way he shook her hand and said, “Mayor Trent, nice to see you again,” with that secret laughter in his voice.

  It was almost as if they’d hit a wall. They could still enjoy each other sexually, but something stood between them.

  She got a hint about the elephant standing between them when she arrived at Catfish Stadium for Teri’s first appearance. Even though the Catfish and the mayor’s office were both complying with Teri’s request for “no special treatment,” she couldn’t bear to miss the game. It meant too much to her, both professionally and personally.

  The blue Catfish banners were snapping in the late June breeze when she arrived at the stadium. With an afternoon double-header scheduled, Crush had assured her that Teri had a good chance of taking the mound. The lower-level teams had been using her as a relief pitcher, so she didn’t have a scheduled start. Instead, she’d be brought in to pitch toward the end of the game.

  Teri must be going crazy with excitement. Maybe that was why she hadn’t responded to Wendy’s attempts to communicate.

  When she slid into the seat next to Crush in the owner’s box, he was talking with an older man and gave her a distracted smile. She overheard the word “Cooperstown,” and then the words “Hall of Fame.” When the conversation finally ended, Crush turned to her with a relieved grin. “Now that’s better,” he murmured in her ear. “You smell like cotton candy.”

  “Mmmm.” She hid the shiver that his lips against her ear inspired. “You don’t mind me interrupting all that baseball talk?”

  “Good God, no. I’m about to get my fill. That was just a preview of the Hall of Fame weekend.”

  “It’s a whole weekend?”

  “Yes, in July. I believe I mentioned it. There’s an induction ceremony broadcast on live TV.”

  “Well, that’s good news! I can take a break from my Tivo’ed episodes of Veep and watch from here.” She said it lightly, teasingly, but even so, a flash of hurt crossed his face. He didn’t really want her to go, did he? Wouldn’t that be a public declaration of their involvement? She would have no reason to be there as mayor. It would be purely as his date. As the woman in his life.

  “Crush,” she began, “are you thinking—”

  But just then applause swept the stadium as the players ran onto the field. Wendy jumped up and clapped her hands in delight at the sight of Teri jogging right behind Jim Lieberman. She’d cut her hair shorter and she looked thinner than when Wendy had seen her in Arizona in February. Wow, was that the last time she’d actually seen Teri?

  She calculated rapidly. Yes, it had been that long. And she hadn’t spoken to her in at least a month, maybe longer. She’d been so busy she hadn’t realized how much time had passed.

  The announcer invited everyone to stand for the national anthem. Wendy sang softly along with her constituents. Crush’s arm brushed against hers with the usual pleasant zap of electricity that ran between them. His deep voice mingled with her higher notes. The hot June sun reflected off a bank of lights. She adjusted the bill of the Catfish baseball cap Crush had given her, claiming it would win her extra votes in the next election.

  What if this was her life? The thought struck her like a bolt of lightning. What if Crush could be by her side in all respects? Was that such a crazy notion?

  She counted up the months she and Crush had been secretly sleeping together. Teri had arrived in January. They’d fallen into bed shortly thereafter. So that made six months. He hadn’t let their secret out. He hadn’t done anything to betray her or hurt her in any way. In fact, he’d made sweet, hot love to her over and over. Brought her to countless orgasms. Made her laugh so hard she nearly cried. Counseled her about Teri. Not pushed her about Manuel. Kept Teri’s true identity a secret. Shown up at random community events. Not to mention, coached her daughter to this historic moment.

  Crush was a rock-solid, trustworthy man. He wasn’t Manuel. He was himself, most amazingly, gloriously so. And she—she had feelings for him. Real feelings.

  She stole a glance at him, but he was saying something to the man on his other side. After everyone took their seats and the game began, a steady flow of voters came her way. The residents of Kilby were concerned about the new police chief, the new start time of the city council meetings, the new traffic light going up on the corner of Main and Alamo. No topic, it seemed, was too trivial to bring to her attention during a baseball game.

  And when no constituent demanded her attention, there was always someone to claim Crush’s. Honestly, they might as well be watching the game from two different rooms. Except that he occasionally brushed his fingers across her hand. And the rumble of his laughter made her heart swell.

  They could do this. They absolutely could. They could have their public life and their secretly hot-and-intimate private life. She could attend the Hall of Fame weekend with him, and he could make fundraising dinners pass more quickly for her. And then afterwards they could be alone together, happy as clams.

  Why not? Why keep this thing secret?

  She didn’t know what he wanted, not exactly—but he had invited her to the Hall of Fame, after all. At the very least, she should accept, as soon as possible.

  But before she got a chance, the announcer informed the crowd that a new pitcher was coming in—number sixty-eight, Dimitri.

  She shrieked and jumped to her feet. The owner’s box was just about ground level, so she got a perfect view of Teri’s tense posture as she ran onto the mound. Once there, she ground her cleats into the dirt a few times to get comfortable, stared in at the catcher, and took her warmup pitches.

  This was really, really happening. A woman—not just any woman, but Wendy’s own biological daughter—was about to become the first female to play in a Triple A baseball game. The buzz in the stadium echoed her own excitement. Everyone was snapping photos and tapping their phones. Facebook Live-ing, tweeting, whatever. But all Wendy could do was watch, one hand on her heart, the other over her mouth.

  Crush’s arm came around her shoulder and she leaned into him.

  “She really did it,” she whispered to him.

  He gazed down at her with a crooked, curious grin. “Happy?”

  “Oh yes. Of course. Extremely happy and proud. And I know you had a lot to do with this. It’s an incredible feeling. I’m glad so many people are taking pictures because my hands are shaking too much.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that,” he said dryly. “Now let’s see how she handles this. She’s got a runner on first base, so she’s got to keep an eye on him. The first pitch will be key.”

&n
bsp; The Isotopes batter stepped into the box and the umpire took his position. Teri stared at the catcher, then nodded. She went into her windup, but then seemed to change her mind. She took a step backwards, shaking her head.

  The umpire yelled something.

  A shocked gasp went through the crowd. The player at home base tossed aside his bat and jogged to first, while the player on first advanced to second. Wendy watched all the movement in utter confusion.

  Crush groaned. “A balk.”

  “A what?”

  “It’s called a balk. Once you go into your pitching motion, you have to complete the pitch, otherwise it’s a balk.”

  “Maybe she just changed her mind about the pitch.”

  “Not allowed.” His brusque answer and the way he was watching Teri with narrowed eyes made her even more worried.

  “Well, balks happen, right? They must, if there’s a name for them. That’s not a complete disaster, is it?”

  Without answering, he got on his phone. “Duke, go talk to her. I’ve never seen her this jittery. Be ready to take her out.”

  “What? Take her out? Is that fair?”

  “A disastrous outing can be either character-building or confidence-destroying. I’m not okay with choice number two.”

  Wendy swallowed hard. Duke jogged toward the mound and chatted with Teri. She hung her head, barely listening to him. What was wrong with her bright, vibrant daughter? Wendy had never seen her like this either. After Duke returned to the dugout, the next batter entered the box. He swung his bat a few times, aiming it at Teri.

  “What is he doing?” Wendy whispered to Crush. “Is he trying to intimidate her?”

  “Nah, that’s just part of his routine. Means nothing.”

  Teri didn’t seem bothered by it. She wasn’t even paying attention to the batter. She was pacing back and forth across the mound, muttering to herself. Pep talk? Finally she stepped onto the rubber. But she must have fumbled the ball, because it dropped onto the mound. She bent to pick it up, faked a throw to first base, then whirled around and whipped it toward second. The player who’d been standing near that base, waiting for the pitching to start, dove into the dirt. Bieberman leaped sideways to stop the ball and landed on top of the Isotope player. An outfielder ran in to pick up the ball, but didn’t seem to know what to do with it.

  The base runners—those still standing—looked too confused to do anything.

  The home plate umpire and first base umpire were both shouting, along with, apparently, every single other member of both baseball teams and the crowd.

  “What the hell?” Crush said in a tight voice.

  He whipped out his phone. “Duke, get her out. Something’s not right. Tell her I’ll meet her in your office.”

  “What happened, what’s going on?” Wendy asked Crush frantically. A pit of dread had lodged in her stomach.

  “That’s another balk. She dropped the ball while standing on the rubber. And it might have been a double balk. Maybe even a triple balk. She faked a throw to first, then threw to second without stepping toward it. Yup, that’s three balks. But I suppose it just counts as one since the first balk ended the play. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. She’s falling apart out there. Come on.” He yanked her to her feet and they hustled out of the box. Before they ducked out, Wendy looked back over her shoulder.

  Teri wasn’t even waiting for Duke to roll out of the dugout. She ripped off her glove and tossed it on the mound. Then she ran off the field.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After cruising around the neighboring streets and parks in Crush’s Porsche, they finally found Teri at the Los Alamos Athletic Field. She was hunched in the grassy margin along the baseball diamond, arms wrapped around her knees, rocking back and forth.

  With his longer legs, Crush got to her first. He dropped next to her. “Honey, it’ll be all right. I’ve seen worse.”

  She buried her face into her knees and didn’t answer. Wendy crouched next to her on her other side. “Sweetheart, talk to us. Come on. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

  Teri lifted her face and gave her a scathing look from tear-reddened eyes. “Talk to you? That’s ironic.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why should I talk to you when you don’t talk to me?” she asked fiercely. “Not that it matters now. It’s too late.”

  “What are you talking about? I’ve been calling you, I’ve left several messages. You’re the one who doesn’t answer my phone calls or texts. And what do you mean, it’s too late?” She shot Crush a panicked glance. What could it possibly be too late for?

  “I’m done. Done with baseball. I hate it.”

  Wendy gestured with her head for Crush to take over; baseball was his domain.

  He cleared his throat. “I know you might feel that way now. But anyone can have a bad outing.”

  “It was epic. Epically bad.” She kicked at the grass with one cleated heel. “They should have just left me down in Double A. At least then I would have had a chance.”

  “I’m sorry.” Crush gave a guilty wince as he patted Teri’s back. “I should have stayed out of it. This is my fault. I pushed them too hard. Don’t blame yourself, kid. I think this one’s on me.”

  “Wait one second.” The situation was starting to fully sink in. “Crush, you got the Friars to call up Teri?”

  “I strongly encouraged them to, yes.”

  Wendy’s jaw fell open. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I thought she was ready. You wanted it too, remember. I wanted her to get her moment in the spotlight.”

  “You used her.”

  “That’s a little harsh. I thought she was ready. When I saw her in Arkansas, she was ready then. Why make her wait longer than necessary? A spot opened up and if they didn’t bring her in, it would be someone else. I wanted it to be her.”

  “You. You wanted it. It was all about you.”

  “The hell it was.” Crush’s neck was turning red, which she knew was a sign that he was angry. “No more than it was for you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m not the one who called her the symbol of a new generation of women. How’s that for pressure? That could cause a breakdown right there.”

  “That was different. I wasn’t pushing her into something…” Wendy trailed off, her heart sinking. Okay, maybe she had been pushing Teri into something she didn’t want. Maybe she should have talked to her more. Listened to her.

  She turned to Teri, who’d been watching the two of them duel as if it were a tennis match. “Honey, whatever role I played in this, I’m truly sorry. Whatever you need from me to fix it, I’ll do.” She couldn’t imagine what that would be, but she meant it.

  It didn’t help. If anything, Teri grew even angrier. “Whatever I need? How about the truth?”

  “The truth?” This just got more and more mysterious.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway. I quit. I don’t care if I never pitch again. I really really don’t.”

  Crush squeezed Teri’s upper shoulder. “You’ll bounce back from this, kiddo. You’ll see. Baseball’s in your blood.”

  She brushed him off and vaulted to her feet. “Don’t say that! I don’t want that. I don’t want that blood!”

  “Excuse me?” Crush glanced at Wendy for an explanation. She shrugged, silent. A gnawing suspicion was coming to life inside her. A terrible possibility.

  “Ask her.” Teri pointed to Wendy dramatically. “She knows what I’m talking about.”

  Both of them stared at her. “What am I missing?” Crush asked.

  Wendy pressed her lips together.

  “Manuel Pena! My father. The baseball star,” Teri said bitterly.

  At the sound of her ex’s name, cold shivers went down Wendy’s spine. Trust him to ruin things, even from prison.

  “You wouldn’t even tell me his name, Wendy! I had to find him all on my own—and I did. My blood father is not only a druggie and a stupid bank robber. He was a shortstop
in Cuba. That’s why I’m good at baseball. And you knew all this time and didn’t tell me! I had to find out by myself.”

  Wendy covered her mouth in horror. She felt disoriented, as if she’d stepped into an alternate universe. “You went to see Manuel? Alone?”

  “Of course I went alone. You wouldn’t even talk about him. I couldn’t ask you to go with me.”

  “You went to see him in prison?” She couldn’t process it, couldn’t imagine it. This lovely, bright girl marching right into Brownsville State Prison? “Why would you do such a thing?”

  Teri dashed the tears off her face. “Same reason I came to see you. I just wanted to know. I saw him and I talked to him, and I boasted about getting called up to the Catfish. And he talked about how all my talent must come from him, because you never cared about sports at all. Baseball was his thing. And I hate it now. I never want to play again!”

  She started backing away from the two of them. “I didn’t come here to be a professional pitcher or a barrier breaker-downer. None of that. I came here to see my birth parents. Now I’m done.”

  Wendy started after her, with the frantic feeling that her daughter was slipping through her fingers like water. “What do you mean, you’re done, honey?”

  “Don’t follow me! I don’t want you! I don’t want anything to do with you, or any of this! I’m going home.” With a last wrenching sob, Teri turned and ran at full speed across the field.

  Wendy ran too, but in wedges and form-fitting jeans, and not a stitch of athletic ability, she only got a short distance before stumbling. Crush caught her before she could fall.

  “Let her go,” he murmured. “Maybe she’ll change her mind, but right now, let her go.”

  Fury rose up inside her, hard and fast. She whirled around and swung at Crush, landing her fist somewhere near his belly. He grunted in surprise and let her go.

  “This is your fault,” she cried furiously. “It was your idea to put her on the Catfish. None of this would have happened if not for you. You pushed her into it. This was for you, not her!”