by Faith O'Shea
It had an old-fashioned vibe, with wood paneling and gleaming silver stools. There were tables scattered around the open space, occupied by families with kids, a couple sharing their cones with each other, and an older couple smacking their lips as they ate the creamy goodness with a long silver spoon.
When they got to the front of the line, Allie still hadn’t decided what she was going to order.
“You go ahead. I’m still looking.”
There had to be dozens of flavors to choose from. He wasn’t used to having a variety, so he ordered a plain vanilla cone.
“You’re kidding, right? Vanilla?”
“I have simple tastes, querida.”
Casey laughed. “She thinks cookies and cream and chocolate mint chip are boring.”
Allie huffed. “Everyone orders them. Being in the top ten doesn’t mean they’re interesting.”
Casey ordered a chocolate and peanut butter, and Allie finally settled on a two-scoop cone, one French toast, and the second, moose tracks.
Casey suggested, “Shall we get some to take back with us, in case you have one of your cravings?”
“Good idea. But we better eat these first, otherwise it will be a puddle before we get back. Three quarts will do it, don’t you think?”
He couldn’t help but grin. He’d had no idea she was an ice cream freak.
They sat at a table outside, the canopy of stars overhead a nice backdrop.
As Allie licked her bounty, her eyes closed as if she’d found nirvana, Casey asked, “How is the beginning of our season different from yours?”
It took a minute for him to process her question, he was so mesmerized by the expression on Allie’s face.
“Not so much. We stay together, like here, although the state provides. But I would not be able to treat anyone to an ice cream cone. My pockets were always empty.”
“Are you saying money is the only thing that separates us?”
“There are true competitors there, as here, and we play for the love of the game. Here, not so much.”
Taking a break between licks, Allie said, “There are some players who opt out of big contracts to stay with a team.”
“Ah, that is another difference. We have no say who we play for.”
“If you had to do it over, would you still have picked the Greenies?”
“I would, yes. I not only aligned myself with a good team but with a wife. They both suit me well.”
Allie’s eyes grew wide, although she couldn’t say anything until she’d swallowed the generous lick she’d swiped with her tongue.
“Shush.”
She was glancing around to make sure no one heard what he’d said.
He chuckled and asked, “May I have a taste of that?”
She narrowed her eyes, looking more irritated by that than his comment about her as his wife.
Grudgingly, she extended her arm so he could take a lick.
“That is good. Maybe I’ll be a bit more adventurous next time. What else do I not know about you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Favorite book?”
“The one I’m reading at the time.”
“Which is?”
“The Cub’s Way. It’s about Theo Epstein. He’s a genius, helped two teams break the curse.”
Of course, it would be one about baseball. It seemed she was as obsessed with the game as he was.
“Favorite color?”
“Pale yellow.”
“Favorite TV show?”
“Again, what I’m binging on at the time. Right now, it’s British crime dramas. I’m on season three of Vera.”
He’d have to catch up and begin watching it with her.
“Music?”
Casey laughed outright. “You haven’t heard her burst into song whenever the moment sparks something?”
He took the last bite of the cone, sat back, and said, “As a matter of fact, I have.”
She glanced up as if stunned he’d heard her. “I didn’t think I had gotten there with you yet.”
He was sad that she didn’t feel she could be herself in front of him.
“Why? I find it amusing and it gives me insight into what you are feeling.”
“That’s why I’m careful about who hears me. It gives my audience a clue as to what mood I’m in.”
She kept glancing at her phone as if there was an expected call coming in that she didn’t want to miss.
Casey laid more out for him.
“Another thing, this one irritating. She always has her cell with her, and at times, like now, I get annoyed with her lack of connection with who she’s with.”
Allie picked it up and shoved it in her pocket.
“Sorry. There might be someone who needs to check in.”
“And he can wait for you to finish an ice cream cone.”
She bit her lip, an apology in her eyes.
“There, see that? She bites her lip when she’s thinking about what you’ve just said, like she’s deciding whether it has merit. She works out regularly, loves scuba diving, which she does alone on our vacations, because, as I’ve already told you, I’m a klutz when it comes to any outdoor activity. She’s allergic to trees, pollen, and mowed grass and has a fit of sneezing whenever anyone mows their lawn. Oh, and she believes it’s imperative for her to watch a Greenie game or the odds of her team winning fall to zero.”
Allie had leaned back, nibbling on the edges of the cone.
“Have you covered it all?”
“Major highlights only.”
“I’ll let you two kibitz on my other flaws while I get my ice cream. I might need to eat a quart to mollify my hurt feelings.”
He took her hand before she could escape. “They are not flaws, querida. They are endearing qualities that I can’t wait to experience.” Before letting her go, he asked, “What song would you be singing now?”
She gave Casey a mocking smile. “It wouldn’t be I Get by With a Little Help from my Friends.”
“There’s one of those redeeming qualities. She doesn’t stay mad long.”
He watched her go, knowing there was still so much to learn about her. He’d barely scratched the surface. As much as he’d hoped he’d be alone with her, Casey had given him new insights that revealed her humanness and it added to the blazing light that was her essence.
She let him hold her hand as they walked back to the condo, and when they got there, she handed the bag of ice cream to Casey and led him into her bedroom.
It was after they’d made love, when she was nestled in his embrace, that she’d looked up at him with those sparkling eyes and asked, “You ever hear of Jason Mraz?”
He shook his head, kissed her nose. “Is he a ballplayer?”
She shook her head. “He’s a songwriter. There’s a song of his that’s in my head right now.”
“Can you sing it for me?”
“No. Too tired.”
He couldn’t argue with that. They’d just spent every ounce of energy on their love making.
He languidly threaded his fingers through her hair. “Are you going to tell me what it’s about?”
“I’ll tell you the title.”
“If that’s all I get, I’m listening.”
He met her eyes but couldn’t hold her gaze. She’d dipped her head into his shoulder and whispered, I’m Yours.
He brought her head up, stayed his hand on her neck, and kissed her.
“I should like to sing that one with you.”
And he did, with his hands and his voice, without words, promising himself he’d find it on-line tomorrow and hear the whole of it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Monday morning dawned warm and sunny. Allie stretched like a cat as she came awake, enjoying one of the perks of being in Florida rather than Massachusetts in January. When she felt a hand drag her back against a furry chest, she purred. This was definitely one of the other perks of being here. Casey had been gone the entire weekend, deciding to stay
with her parents once her mother arrived, so Mateo had just about moved in, keeping her company when he could and attending the practices and then playing with his friends when she had to work.
He was thriving here. Whether it was the weather or the being back out on a field, she didn’t know, but she was enjoying the exuberance he had for this new life.
Last Thursday, the Greenies’ first day of practice, had seen an influx of new fans clamoring at the gates to come in. They took the hourly tours of the stadium and clubhouse, in the hopes of catching a glimpse of their favorite player, picked up their favorite player’s tee shirt or custom jersey in the gift shop, along with other souvenirs of their trip here, such as hats, coffee mugs, and key chains. Both venues were in her purview, and she’d worked around the clock to make sure everything was ready and in its place. Lyra ran inventory each day and reported even the three newcomers’ shirts were flying off the racks. They’d have to place another order soon to keep up with the mad rush. She’d gone out on a couple of the tours personally, to read the pulse of the fan base, and even though they didn’t know she’d been the one responsible for bringing the talent together, they couldn’t contain their excitement about the upcoming season. Lyra had taken on some of her duties, holding down the fort when she’d play hooky, which she did as often as she could before the guilt set in. It wasn’t as often as Mateo wanted, but it was far more time than she’d ever taken away from her team.
On Friday, she saw a smattering of those new shirts being worn by fans coming in for the second day. It was the triumvirate that had accumulated followers by the dozen, and she knew why. Not only were they talented and energized but they looked like they were having fun out on the field. The added incentive for a conclave of admirers? They were three of the most handsome of the Greenies, two with an international flair that seemed to incite hormones. She’d been edgier than usual since opening those gates, watching the women swoon and clamor, but it hadn’t caused her to create distance. Instead, she’d been grasping for all she could. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to breathe if and when he left her, but she was using rolls of duct tape to hold hope in place.
This morning, she lazed against him, knowing she had to get up and get busy but needing to be skin to skin. She didn’t know when the last cuddle would come, and she wanted to savor every one.
Today was their first game, against the Toronto Blue Jays, and she had a million things to do before the one o’clock start time.
She kissed his cheek, familiar with his morning stubble, and she rubbed her cheek against it before forcing herself out of bed.
“Just a few more minutes, Alicia. Please.”
Mateo reached for her hand and held on. He wasn’t going to make it easy to get on with her day. Knowing Casey would be back tonight and he’d be stuck with his roommates, he was being stubbornly insistent she continue to lie with him. He still didn’t understand why he was being exiled, but she couldn’t explain it. That was Casey’s story to tell.
Brushing his hand away playfully, she said, “I’m already late. I should have been in my office an hour ago.”
He mumbled something before throwing off the covers and getting up. As she tied the sash of her robe around her waist, she gave herself one last peek at him in his naked glory before scooting out to the kitchen to get her coffee started. She breathed a sigh of relief that he’d donned his boxers before joining her. She couldn’t afford that particular distraction this morning. It was enough that his scent was all over her. It was an aphrodisiac all on its own.
After pouring himself a mug of coffee, he’d retrieved the newspaper that she’d subscribed to and took them into the living room, where he sat with his feet up and his mind engaged. The local paper was filled with all sorts of Greenie news during the short Grapefruit season, and she read every scrap of material written, needing to know all the local gossip that might have evaded her.
He always got it first. For some reason, she didn’t seem to mind.
“Hey, the sports page has an interview with Buzzley. Did you okay that?”
“I was there with him when he gave it. I wanted to monitor any reference to last year.”
He glanced over after reading it. “You did well. They covered more of his good years than the one bad one.”
“As Rique would say, ‘I’m not me for nothing.’”
She said it with a flourish as she disappeared into the bathroom.
She showered and changed in record time, her floral skirt, blouse, and high-heel sandals professional enough for her position but cool enough for the warmth. His eyes shimmered in admiration when she went in to give him a kiss goodbye.
“I’ll see you at the field.” She said it from behind him, but his hand held her in place for a more in-depth goodbye that left her breathless.
“A home run would be a nice hello.”
“I’ll do my best.”
The car she’d rented was in the driveway, having been delivered on Saturday. She’d need transportation to the field that didn’t include a bus, which was what the guys would take at the appointed time. She glanced at her watch half-way to Citrus Field, ticking off what she’d have to do when she got there in order of priority. There were travel itineraries to confirm for the team’s road trips, ticket sales to check, moods and attitudes to adjust, rules to reestablish, and marketing brochures to proof. But first there was the weekly operations meeting in Dan’s office. As she made her way into his office, he glanced up and smiled.
“Good morning. You look chipper.”
“It’s the sun. It’s amazing what a little Vitamin D can do for your mood.”
“I think it’s more than that, but we can go with if it works for you.”
She gave him an evil eye, but a smile broke through. It seemed everyone here knew about her and Mateo and most were pleased with the results.
Lyra walked in, her clipboard in her hand. “Good morning, boss.”
Nodding to the checklist, Allie asked, “Can I see where we are?”
Lyra handed it over. “I didn’t get a lot done yesterday. I ended up keeping Buzz company.”
“He’s rooming with Verdi, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but the catcher had a date. He called and asked if I’d hang out until he got back.”
“Late?”
“No. Either it didn’t go well or he wanted to get back to relieve me. Those two have become pretty close, a regular bromance developing there, I think.”
“That’s good. Buzz isn’t—”
“Nope. We sat around, drank decaf, and talked the few hours Verducci was out. From what Buzz told me, coffee is now the drink of choice. And he drinks lots of it.”
“You could have called me, you know.”
“I like him, and I didn’t mind in the least. Now if it was Nap, I would have passed.”
“He still feeling cheated?”
“You’re the one dealing with him, so you tell me.”
“I didn’t hear from him all weekend. I’d hoped putting him with Ritter would be the salve he needed for his wounded pride.”
Ritter was a hard worker who knew his role and did it without complaint or the need for a pat on the back for doing his job.
DeLorenzo asked, “Should I be looking to trade, or are we sending him down?”
Allie shook her head in sympathy for the guy’s unmet expectations.
“He’s too old to be sent down, and I’m not sure he’d attract another team, not unless we were willing to give someone of value away with him as an add-on, and no way am I willing to do that. I think I’ll take a wait-and-see approach. He might turn himself around.”
Lyra said, “He had to know he was only a filler.”
“I think Farina made him think he was an integral part of the team. Which he is, just not in a starting position.”
Dan asked, “Is he holding you responsible?”
“I’m the one who made the find. But if it wasn’t Rique, it would have been someone else. We need an anchor the
re, and Nap doesn’t have the arm strength or the moves.”
They discussed a couple of minor league players who might make the jump before the beginning of the season and came up with a list who they’d bring up as needed. They’d spend the next six weeks assessing skills, talents, and maturity. Making the move was an overwhelming proposition and bringing someone up too soon could wreak havoc on his future. Only the men who they thought could handle it would be given the opportunity.
By the time the meeting was over, the team was on the field. They were going through their warm-up exercises, some throwing catch in the outfield, some jogging around the bases trying to limber up, some over by the area where the fans were corralled, talking, signing autographs, and taking selfies. She canned the crowd for Mateo, and when she’d found him, her stomach dropped to her feet. His head was thrown back, a wide grin on his face, and there were two women on either side of him. They were each taking selfies, and his arm was thrown carelessly around their shoulders, pulling them in so they’d fit the frame.
Every nerve in her body went on alert. Her fear came rushing back at her like Jack Lambert, a ferocious middle linebacker who played for the Pittsburgh Steelers, knocking the air out of her lungs.
She stepped back away from the window, her legs shaking, her heart beating like a jackhammer.
Was this the beginning of the end? He looked so happy out there, among the crowd. Was it just his Cuban nature, or had she bumped into that brick wall she’d been expecting? Rique had been with him, his smile as wide, but not as hands-on.
When Lyra came over to show her the roster, it was in Sanskrit or some language her mind couldn’t decipher. As she steadied herself, the words began to make sense—at least names were visible. Rique led off, followed by Reyes, Mateo in the three-hole, Ovitz, Layden, Heredia, Bellasario, Motts, and Jackson. Their ace wouldn’t stay in long, maybe a couple of innings before they put one of their newbies in. Her eyes dropped to the bottom of the sheet to see Sutherland and Scherger penciled in.
When Casey tapped her on the shoulder, she almost jumped out of her skin.
“Hey, you’re pale. What’s the matter?”
Here was a friend she could tell, one who wouldn’t stand in the bleachers cheering her on but would step right into he arena with her, making sure her back was covered.