Clutch Hit

by Faith O'Shea

She clutched her arms to her chest. “I can’t take the risk.”

  “Casey, you’re going to have to rethink your strategy. Things have changed, radically. Don’t you think it’s time to set things right?”

  She sighed dejectedly. “Nothing’s changed. I… I can’t do what you’re asking.”

  Yet.

  Her father’s impatience had reared its head and his terse “Why?”, did nothing to settle her unease.

  “It’s too late, I don’t want any more complications in my life, we can’t go back. Do you want any more reasons? I have them.”

  Maybe the bottom line was she didn’t want to risk having to share her daughter. Or her heart.

  Her father pointed out, yet again, “It’s going to be impossible to keep this quiet. We discussed all this before I took the job. You said you were okay with it. I hope you haven’t changed your mind because it’s too late now to renege.”

  “I should never have come with you. That’s the problem.”

  Mac asserted firmly, “The problem will exist as long as I’m manager of the team.” He raised his voice in irritation. “Do you want me to make a trade?”

  Her gut had twisted at the implication, her anxiety straining for the top of the meter.

  “No. That wouldn’t be fair. Not to you, not to Allie. She’s counting on the team she’s put together to get you to the World Series.”

  It wouldn’t be fair to the man he was suggesting to be traded, either. He’d done nothing to warrant it, except maybe break her heart.

  Her father gentled his voice. “Your happiness is more important to me than the team, and you know that.’

  Mac had always claimed it was, that their family was his number one priority but there were too many times that it took second rung because of his job, his status, his reputation.

  “Yeah, well Allie might feel differently. I don’t know whether you’ve heard but she’s gone to extreme lengths to bring this team together.”

  Her friend had married a man to get a third baseman. That she fell head over heels in love with the Cuban was icing on her cake.

  The headache had started throbbing and she wanted out. “I’ll let you get back to work but you and I are going to have a meeting to discuss my role here. Being your social secretary is not a compelling reason to stay.”

  If she went back home, she could put off the upcoming conflict indefinitely. The younger Casey would have done just that. But her father was right and although she didn’t want to admit it quite yet, she was inching her way towards resolution.

  “You can’t keep procrastinating, Casey. I should have insisted you be honest from the start.”

  Her jaw dropped open. “That really wasn’t your decision. It was mine.”

  “I’ll let you keep believing that if it makes you feel any better. But it was a bad one from where I sit. They both have a right to know.”

  She knew that at the very core of her being but every time the thought surfaced, she pummeled it back down, petrified to take the step.

  She put her attention back on the field. Charlie and Mac had switched places. Charlie was taking fielding practice, Mac hitting the ball out to her. Her daughter was keeping the ball in front of her like she’d been taught, giving up her body if she had to. She wondered how many bruises she’d have before the practice session was over.

  A smile crept onto her face without warning.

  Charlie was good. It was too bad she was female. She might have used those genetic markers she’d inherited to play professional ball. The ones she’d inherited from both sides of her family tree.

  They both have a right to know.

  The thing was, she hadn’t wanted anyone to know and had kept it a secret for months. In shock mode the moment that damn stick read yes, she’d gone on an emotional roller coaster ride, the curves and hills, creating as much nausea as the pregnancy itself. There was denial, panic, depression, grief, until she’d finally found acceptance. After she’d gone over all her options, she’d decided there’d been only one course of action. For her anyway. Allie became her confidant; sat holding her hand while she cried her eyes out and accompanied her to her first doctor’s appointment where it was officially confirmed.

  She knew she couldn’t avoid telling her parents but never in a million years did she think she’d have to have that conversation with them. Getting into any kind of trouble was out of character for her. She’d always followed their rules, tried to please at every turn, wanted to be the daughter they deserved. She’d always insisted on using protection, but there were a couple of times they’d slipped up. She was naïve enough to believe they wouldn’t get caught, and held an underlying belief that if they did, it wouldn’t be any big deal. They’d just get married sooner than anticipated. She’d never been so wrong in her life.

  A few weeks before she started college, she knew she had no recourse but to sit them down and tell them. She remembered the day, vividly. It was the second worst of her life. The first had been the break-up and all the repercussions that came with it, one she hadn’t even suspected, and it was a big one that scared her shitless.

  As if isolating herself from the shock and disappointment she knew would come, she sat on the love seat in the family room, opposite the couch where Mac and Galen were sitting side by side, a united front, waiting patiently for her to get to the point. Her tears had pre-empted the telling and when it finally came spilling out, they’d already figured out the worst.

  Her mother had cried. Face in her hands cried. It was one of the only times she’d seen her mother break down like that. Usually so staid and calm in the face of crisis, it had completely undone her. Her father had wanted to wring some necks. But she’d made them promise her they wouldn’t do anything rash, like call and tell him. She’d laid out her reasons for not wanting the father to know, like a detailed map and they’d agreed. More out of anger than consensus.

  The anger had withered over time as Charlotte became an intricate part of their lives and Mac had suggested more than once that the girl’s father had a right to know. The first time had been after Seb’s graduation from Tulane. He’d been drafted by the Greenliners and his first stop should have been Pittsfield where Mac was in talks to become the manager. She’d avoided the bullet when Seb was sent to Cranston rather than the triple A team her father eventually coached. She thought Mac would drop the subject after that, but it became a yearly reprimand, usually on Charlotte’s birthday.

  The badgering picked up speed when Mac took the job as Greenliner manager, knowing Seb would be attending spring training. Actually, it became more of an ultimatum. He all but threatened to tell him without her consent. Her mother, of course, was on his side.

  It will be impossible to keep this from coming out, Casey. We need to handle this before it becomes a real problem. Like your father said, it’s way past time.

  The long-held secret was gasping for air and she was gearing herself up to let it breathe.

  Unconsciously, she rubbed the rim of the coffee mug she held, her mind a whirling dervish of unwanted thoughts and unavoidable feelings. She was on a seesaw; to tell or not to tell. That was the question. If she told, she might be putting her heart on the line again and it wasn’t as resilient as it used to be. It had been glued back together one shattered piece at a time and it was tight and withered from lack of use.

  As she chewed on her nail, she castigated herself for not remaining back in Boston. She would have avoided the upheaval, the restless nights and secretive days. The only good thing that had come out of the move was her broken engagement. She should never have accepted the proposal, and still didn’t completely understand why she’d said yes. Greg was a good man beneath it all, but he didn’t… understand her. And there was no passion there. That had been stripped away from her arsenal of emotions a long time ago. The only thing she missed was the security blanket he’d wrapped her in.

  She brushed her hair back, pushed her glasses up and looked back over the field before snapping out
of her trance. Her dad had stopped hitting balls to Charlie, to look across the field at the man walking toward them.

  He could still make her heart flutter, but she had no time to take in the rangy body, the confident stride, the muscles that she knew rippled beneath the shirt. This was her worst nightmare taking center stage in her reality. Was it coincidence or…? Couldn’t be. Not the way it was playing out. She’d been checking her watch every ten minutes, knowing exactly when the players would start arriving and she was determined to be long gone by the time it happened. Her father’s incessant demands had hidden an ulterior motive and anger might have flared if terror hadn’t taken over.

  She jumped out of her seat and raced down the stairs, and across the concourse until she came to the rim of the green carpet that lined the diamond. But when she got there, she halted in her tracks. Should she stay quiet, hidden so she didn’t give anything away or show herself and let whatever happened, happen?

  Sebastian Layden was standing not three feet away from Charlie. She couldn’t read his expression because his back was facing her, but she heard the excited timbre of his voice when he said, “This is that kid who was at your baseball camp that day I volunteered. Did she win a trip down or something?”

  Mac appeared to be chewing the inside of his cheek. She waited with bated breath for her father to say something, but he remained mute, quietly studying the man who’d approached. It was Charlie who’d broken the ice. She had personality plus, could talk an Eskimo into buying snow and her smile was wide when she said, “You’re Sebastian Layden.”

  With a similar grin, he exclaimed, “I am. And you are one kick-ass player.”

  Casey saw a look of puffed up pride at the compliment on Charlie’s face.

  “Thanks. I saw you at the baseball camp. I wanted to be with the older kids, but they wouldn’t let me.”

  Little did Charlie know she wasn’t supposed to be there at all, that she was a month shy of the minimum age, but they’d all agreed there had to be some kind of perks that came with being the granddaughter of the man who ran the camp.

  Seb said good-naturedly, “You have to work from the ground up. It takes a little longer but then you’re ready to take on the big guns.”

  Charlie tilted her head, squinting at him in the hazy sunshine. “Are you ready?”

  “I think so. Mr. Calipari here, would be the one to answer that question.”

  “Gramps said you could be better than him.”

  Casey noticed her father’s forehead crease. He’d probably never expected her to give that secret away. If he’d set this up, and she had a funny feeling he had, it would serve him right. He should have talked to her about it before… she didn’t know whether to be grateful or pissed.

  When Mac arched an eyebrow, as if offended, Seb added hastily, his attention back on Charlie “Not sure about that. I don’t know whether you know this or not but Mac here’s a legend.”

  Charlie giggled. “Of course, I do. I know everything there is to know about the Greenies.”

  “A real fan, huh?”

  “Since before I was born.”

  Casey was holding her breath, knowing her whole life was about to become unraveled while Seb had no idea what was coming. His voice still held a tinge of amusement.

  “Not too many start that early.”

  “Not too many have a Gramps who’s a legend.”

  Casey was now walking onto the field, knowing the secret was about to pop out of the jack-in-the-box. Her breathing was labored, and her heart was racing but her stride was full of purpose. She was thrown off as her daughter came racing over and threw herself into her arms.

  “Hey, Mom. Did you see me? I’m getting good at keeping the ball in front of me.”

  Seb had turned to face them, his face draining of color as he did. All amusement was gone. His eyes had narrowed, his nostrils were flaring. He met her gaze just before she wrapped her arms around Charlie and said, “I did.”

  She was staring right into steely blue eyes that pierced her to the core. Trying to recover her balance, she kissed Charlie’s nose and put her down, taking a braid in each hand.

  “I guess there’s no denying you got Gramp’s genes and not mine.”

  Seb was staring open mouthed at the seven-year-old standing several feet away. As he moved closer, she sensed unsteady legs. He crouched down when he reached her, eye-to-eye when he extended his hand, his voice shaky when he stuttered out, “Nice to meet you…”

  “Charlie.” Blue eyes flashed up at Casey and she amended, “Charlotte Calipari.”

  Casey could see Seb’s profile as he studied the face. What was he thinking as he examined his eyes in a smaller face, his hair, only finer, more fly away, and his chin, a little too defiant, in the face of adversity?