Crushing It: A Love Between the Bases Novella

by Jennifer Bernard

  He froze, his face transforming into an unreadable mask. “Is that right.”

  “This was all about you from the very beginning. You wanted to show off your coaching skills. Prove you’re more than a retired superstar.”

  He folded his arms across his chest, but other than that, showed no reaction. For some reason, that infuriated her even more. She lit into him again. “I can’t believe I thought I was falling in love with you. What a fool I’ve been. A stupid, sex-drunk idiot. Everything you do is for you—I should have known!”

  Behind that expressionless facade, his eyes glittered at her. “And you had nothing to do with any of this, huh? It was all me.”

  Her head throbbed. She pressed the heel of her hand into her forehead. Of course it wasn’t all him. She’d done so many things wrong. Maybe everything. But the pain on Teri’s face as she tossed her glove onto the mound…God, she’d never forget that. “She wasn’t ready! You pressured the Friars to put her into a situation she couldn’t handle. That’s on you!”

  “You’re right. That’s on me.” Crush rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and fixed his gaze on the ground. “I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for reading her wrong and sorry for getting ahead of myself. I’m especially sorry that she got hurt. Baseball can rip your heart out sometimes.”

  “Don’t you dare blame baseball for this! This is about Crush Taylor trying to make history. Well, you made history all right. Are you happy now?”

  “No.” His voice came low and intense. “I’m not fucking happy. I fucked up. You’ve made your point, Wendy. I’m an asshole. What more do you want?”

  “I want…I want… Ugh!” With a last scream of frustration, she pushed past him. “I want you to stay away from me and from Teri. This is done, Crush. Dead and done.”

  Slipping off her wedges, she hurried away from him in the direction of the nearest street. He didn’t follow her, thank God. She’d call a cab or hitch a ride, something. Anything but step back into Crush’s Porsche. That Porsche symbolized every awful thing about him. Selfish, full of himself, uncaring of others, arrogant.

  As for that little voice inside her head that kept telling her that she’d made some mistakes too, she managed to drown that out.

  * * *

  Crush flew to San Diego that night. He spent the next day lobbying the Friars’ front office to keep the option on Teri’s contract open. He shouldered the entire blame for her meltdown, explaining that a family issue had hit her hard and he shouldn’t have pushed for her promotion.

  It didn’t work. They dropped her contract. He felt like an even bigger asshole after that.

  He texted the news to Teri, but didn’t get a response. Worried about her complete rejection of baseball, he enlisted the help of Caleb Hart, the Cy Young Award-winning pitcher who used to play for the Catfish and now anchored the Friars’ roster. Caleb called Teri and told her the story of his own first start with the Catfish. It had been a disaster for the record books, although to hear Caleb talk, it was the best day of his life. That was the day he met Sadie Merritt.

  Caleb reported back that she hadn’t pitched at all since she’d left Kilby.

  “She listened politely and thanked me for taking the time, and that’s about it.”

  “She sound okay?”

  “Actually, yeah. She sounded just fine. Good kid.”

  “Thanks, Hart. I owe you one.”

  He couldn’t think of anything else to do for Teri. He hated to see her turn against the sport of baseball, but that was her choice.

  Wendy, on the other hand…he hated the way they’d left things. She’d pissed him off with her accusations, even though she had a point. He relived their blowup over and over again, and one thing kept standing out. Yes, he pushed to get Teri called up—but not for the reasons he’d admitted. His real reason was to make Wendy happy. Because he…

  Face it, he loved her. He loved her fire and her ice and everything in between. He wanted to be with her, in secret or in public, whatever she was up for. That was what he should have said.

  Crush had never lacked guts. But it would take a big helping of courage to tell a woman who’d kicked him to the curb that he loved her. He tried calling first. No answer. He swung by her house a few times, but never saw her lights on. Finally—absolute last resort—he showed up at an Ask the Mayor session at city hall.

  Possibly, quite possibly, it was the wrong move to make.

  Looking delectable in a cobalt-blue pants suit, she barely looked at him when she finally acknowledged his presence among the scattering of constituents in folding chairs. “Mr. Taylor, what is your question?”

  He rose to his feet. “My question is regarding apologies. If…well, if a man loves a woman, but he’s done something to hurt her, what is the recommended way to make it right?”

  Did he see maybe a flash of something in those bluebonnet eyes when he said the word ‘love’? “I believe you’ve mistaken the purpose of this session, Mr. Taylor. We’re discussing issues connected to our community.”

  “I understand that. That’s why I’m spearheading a new initiative that matches up coaches with young baseball hopefuls who happen to be female. We’re going to offer coaching scholarships for the most promising. I’m working on getting the rest of the Pacific League onboard as well.”

  He’d thought about this project long and hard while he was in San Diego. Maybe it hadn’t worked out with Teri, but it would work with someone, someday, and probably sooner rather than later. A woman playing Triple A? He’d put money on it. Actually, that was exactly what he was doing.

  But his gesture didn’t sway her, not one bit. She merely inclined her head, like a queen accepting tribute. “I’m sure the women of the world are very grateful for your generosity. Thank you, Mr. Taylor. Who’s next?”

  And that was it. His heart on a platter, and it meant nothing to her.

  He drove back to his empty, quiet ranch and cursed his wayward heart. Why did he have to fall for the most stubborn, thorny, passionate woman this side of the Rio Grande? Couldn’t he have fallen in love with any of the underwear models and baseball groupies who still called him on a regular basis?

  It was enough to drive him to drink.

  But it didn’t. Counting the months, he realized he hadn’t had a drink since that Hall of Fame phone call in January. Six months. Not too bad.

  With a can of root beer and his cell phone, he wandered onto his terrace and stretched out on a chaise lounge. In less than a month, he’d enter the Hall of Fame. Clearly, that time wasn’t going to be spent with Wendy. But he had another idea. One that had been growing in his heart ever since he’d started coaching Teri.

  He kept thinking about his own daughters, and how he didn’t see them enough, didn’t really know them. They always came to the ranch to spend time with him; he never went to them. None of his children were pitching prodigies, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t connect with them. He’d learned a lot from Teri. About listening. About being there—present—for whatever they needed.

  Maybe it was time he tried it with his own kids.

  He dialed the number of Marisa, his twenty-year-old daughter from his second marriage. She was spending the summer working on a mustang rehabilitation ranch in New Mexico. “Hi honey. I was thinking I’d like to come for a visit. Yes, come to you. I know I never do that. That’s about to change, if you’re okay with an old geezer hanging around for a few days.”

  By the time he finished his phone calls, the next month was booked with visits to his children. It was just a start, but it was a good one. It was exactly what he needed—even better than getting that Hall of Fame call. He felt more at peace than he had in a very long time.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wendy had been through some terrible times in her life. She’d survived a godawful marriage, given up her baby for adoption, and clawed her way up to mayor of a whole city. Sometimes it seemed that her entire life had been a battle. But one thing she couldn’t figure out as
she lay awake night after night. Who was she battling now? And why?

  All those accusations she’d flung at Crush—hadn’t she been just as bad? She’d been more excited about the “historic” aspect of what she was doing than Teri’s thoughts and feelings. The worst part was that she knew what Teri really wanted. She knew how curious she was about Manuel. For her own reasons, she’d shut her down.

  Didn’t that make her just as selfish as Crush, if not more so?

  She was more selfish than Crush. He was trying to make things right in whatever way he could. He’d come to her Ask the Mayor session and pretty much told her he loved her.

  And what had she done? Said something cool and dismissive and sent him on his way. Inside, she’d been a hot mess. Every second he was in that meeting room, she’d wanted him—wanted to beg for forgiveness, bare her heart to him, dive into his arms and never leave.

  But something inside wouldn’t let her. Because she was still fighting.

  Fighting for what? Her privacy? Her safety? Her independence?

  When had Crush ever threatened any of those? The only thing he threatened was…her heart.

  And face it. It was too late for her damn heart. That pesky organ belonged to him.

  She drove out to Bullpen Ranch with an apology all ready to deliver. But he was gone. According to his housekeeper, he planned to be traveling until after the Hall of Fame ceremony in late July. Wendy debated whether or not to call him, to tell him everything she was thinking over the phone.

  In the end, she didn’t. The things she had to say needed to be said in person. And besides….besides…

  There was something else she had to do first.

  She got into her car and headed out of town. South, toward Brownsville. On her way, she called her assistant to let her know she’d be gone for a few days on important family business.

  * * *

  Calista and Nick Dimitri received her with tears and warm hugs. They spent some time catching up on their lives, then informed her that Teri was working at the Red Robin. Driving through the streets of Brownsville brought back a few visceral memories, but not as many as she’d feared. She really had moved on from that time in her life. It’s not going to drag me back, she told herself. It can’t.

  At the Red Robin, Teri received her with a distant sort of surprise, as if she was trying to stay cool. She took a break and they settled into a booth in the corner.

  “Did you drive all the way here from Kilby?”

  “I did. I had to bring you something.”

  “If it’s a baseball or a baseball glove or anything related to baseball, like peanuts or Cracker Jacks, I don’t want it.”

  Wendy laughed ruefully. “I’m glad you still have your sense of humor. And don’t worry, no baseball here.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small collection of Mead notebooks, blue, yellow, green. “I want you to have these. They’ll tell you everything you need to know about Manuel, and about me, and about us. Don’t worry; it’s nothing X-rated or inappropriate. I was keeping journals when I met him, and I continued until I left Brownsville. The one you had was the last one.”

  Teri warily tugged the pile of notebooks across the table. “Why are you giving these to me? Why would I want to know more about…him?”

  “Because…” She drew in a deep breath. “He’s not all bad. He wasn’t all bad. He’s not some kind of monster. Before he got into meth, he was wonderful in many ways. I loved him. And he loved me, even though it turned into something very twisted. And there’s something else. I’ve kept an eye on him in prison. He’s been clean for a long time, and he’s known my whereabouts for a long time. He’s never tried to make trouble for me in any way. “

  Teri chewed at her bottom lip. “But he’s in prison. He committed crimes. He hurt you. He nearly killed both of us.”

  “That’s all true.” Wendy reached across the table to touch her hand, and amazingly, Teri let her. “When he’s on drugs, he’s a nightmare. But the Manuel I first knew, at his core, is a caring person. It means a great deal to me that he hasn’t tried to contact me or tell people that he’s the mayor of Kilby’s ex-husband. He’s kept my secrets. But now I’m giving them to you. I don’t want to have secrets from you. I should have been more open with you about him from the start. You deserve to know all sides of your birth parents, the good and the bad. I only wanted you to see the successful, independent Wendy Trent. If you read those, you’ll see a lot more than that.”

  The thought made her stomach hurt a little. It had been so long since she really exposed herself, all of herself, sketchy past and everything.

  “Remember when you told me that you felt most yourself when you had a baseball in your hand?”

  She grew wary. “Yeah.”

  “I kept these journals for the same reason. Don’t let Manuel take that away from you. Maybe he gave you a genetic boost. But that passion for baseball, that hunger to shine, all that hard work—that’s all one hundred percent you.”

  Teri fingered the notebook on top of the pile. “I’ve been telling people around here that I know a mayor personally. I didn’t say that you’re my mother. But it’s pretty cool that my birth mom is a mayor. How many people can say that?”

  Warmth spread through Wendy’s entire being. “Well, I think it’s pretty cool that you’re my daughter. And Teri, I really, really want to apologize for what both Crush and I did, pushing you so hard.”

  Teri shook her head adamantly. “It wasn’t your fault. It definitely wasn’t Crush’s fault.”

  “You don’t have to defend us, honey. We were being selfish and putting our needs first, and Crush should have—”

  “No. I won’t sit here and let you diss on Crush. Crush is amazing. He’s a Hall of Fame pitcher. And he took the time to coach me. A nobody from Brownsville. For free. And he treated me with respect. Like I was just another person, like a friend, like he isn’t a baseball rock star. And you know what? Now that I know what it feels like, I’m going to make sure I get that respect!”

  Her brown eyes blazed with passion and her words hit Wendy with the force of a jackhammer. She’d been so angry at Crush, but as it turned out, Crush had given Teri an incredible gift.

  Respect.

  Which happened to be the thing she herself had always craved more than anything. “That’s…great to hear, Teri.”

  But Teri wasn’t done yet. “And you know, shit happens in baseball. He warned me about staying focused, but all I could think about was Manuel and how my baseball talent came from a convict, and it was never really mine at all, it was his, and I don’t know, I just lost it. But it wasn’t Crush’s fault. I want to apologize to him. And I want to show him something too. But I want it to be a surprise. Because I seriously, seriously owe him so much.”

  “What? Can you tell me?”

  “Only if you keep it a secret.”

  “You know I’m good at that.”

  They laughed, and Wendy felt as if she could breathe again for the first time since Teri had left Kilby.

  * * *

  She spent the drive back to Kilby looking at everything that had happened with new eyes. In particular, her own actions. And she didn’t like what she saw, not one bit. She could do better. A lot better. And she would, because dammit, she was the mayor of Kilby and she had to set a good example.

  Even more to the point, she was a woman in love. Scratch that. She was a woman in love with a complicated, fascinating man who deserved so much more than she’d been giving him. The only problem was, she had no idea where he was.

  Taking a chance, she called Paige.

  “He’s in Virginia with Tara and the twins,” Paige told her.

  Wendy went cold from head to toe.

  Tara was Crush’s most recent ex-wife, mother of his two fifteen-year-olds. Were they getting back together? Had she screwed things up that badly?

  “Oh,” she managed.

  “Yeah, he’s on a kind of walkabout,” Paige explained. “A kid walkabout. He�
��s spending time with each of us—well, not me, because I had him all last summer—on their own turf. He says he wants to be part of our lives more, and not just in the ‘fun times at the ranch’ kind of way. He has a whole new attitude. What did you do to him?” She was laughing now.

  “Me? Why would you think I—”

  “I know how crazy he is about you. And the way he clams up when I mention you, I figure it must be serious. So? Any scoop for me?”

  “Well…” Wendy had gotten such a scare from the mention of Tara that her heart was still fluttering. She wanted to hop on a plane right this minute. But she didn’t want to interrupt Crush on his “walkabout.” She’d just have to figure something else out. “I’m working on it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  A sea of people filled the lawn outside the Baseball Hall of Fame at Cooperstown. Beach umbrellas, lawn chairs, coolers, blankets on the grass, kids playing tag, grownups meeting up with old friends and meeting new ones. Gentle clouds flitted across a chipper blue sky—perfect baseball weather. And perfect Hall of Fame induction ceremony weather.

  Crush, in a light gray suit and tie, sat onstage with an incredible assortment of baseball legends. Thirty current members of the Hall of Fame were in attendance, along with the other players being inducted this year. He was the last to be introduced, and he’d already been brought to tears several times by the speeches and presentations.

  He heard the speaker announce his name and the applause that rolled across the crowd like thunder. He grinned and waved, smiling and bowing his head until the applause died out. After spending so much time with each of his kids, he felt at peace with this honor. No longer did it feel wrong; it felt natural. This felt like the right place for him to be. He still wished Wendy was with him, but he’d be wishing that wherever he was. Until he got over her. Which would hopefully happen one of these days.