by Croft, Rose
“Rose, I’m going to say something, and please don’t take this the wrong way. You went through something I couldn’t even imagine dealing with. However, it was five years ago. You’ve made so much progress. So much. You are a strong woman. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I admire you. However, you have got to stop getting in the way of yourself. I know it’s hard for you to put yourself out there and trust people. I know it was probably difficult hearing that girl talk about John, knowing that they slept together. But, it was in the past. Has John really done anything since you’ve been together to make you suspect he’s cheating on you? Beside the Alyssa fiasco which in reality if anyone should’ve been suspect over that it would be me because she texted Andrew.”
“No. Not really,” I conceded. “But, how many more of these stories am I going to hear? I don’t know if I can handle it.”
“I don’t know. But all of that was in the past, before you. And, if it’s such a big deal to you, maybe you should talk to him about it.”
“If I do that then I sound like an insecure person.”
“No, you don’t. If this relationship is worth it, you need to tell him about your feelings,” Loren said. On some level, I knew she was right, but it was difficult for me to express my feelings. That’s just how I’d been wired.
Actually, I was terrified to let go of all control and open myself up like that. “I know. I’m just scared that I’ll lose him, and then I’ll be devastated.”
“I understand, but if you continue to shut him out, you’re going to lose him anyway.”
“I know.” I sighed sadly. “I’ll think about it and let you know if I’m going to the game, okay?”
Loren seemed to exhale slowly. “There’s something else you should know. John was going to call your parents and invite them to the game.”
“What? How would he know how to contact them?”
“I gave him their number.”
“Are you sure you have my best interest in mind Loren?” I asked angrily wanting to reach through my iPhone and strangle her. “I haven’t even told my parents about him. Oh my God, Loren, I can’t believe you did this.”
“Rose,” she whined. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I thought he was making a nice gesture.”
“So, it never occurred to you to ask me first?”
“He was frustrated because he knew you wouldn’t return his call.”
Before I could give her more grief, my phone alerted me that I had another call. Oh great! “Loren, it’s my mom. I have to take this.” I clicked over. “Hi Mom.”
“¿Ay, por qué no me dijiste nada?”
“Mom, I’m sorry we haven’t dated that long. I was going to tell you.”
“When Rosita? ¿Cuándo este muerta?” When I’m dead? And, not only was my mom over dramatic, she also did a lot of code switching when she spoke to me. Our family was Mexican American so it wasn’t unusual to mix in Spanish and English.
“Mom, don’t be so morbid. What did he say?” I was curious how John gelled with my mother. Why, Rose, what did it matter?
“Oh, he said that you were such a special girl, and how he played beísbol y como le gustaría encontrarnos y he has tickets for the game y no sé qué.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Your father wants to go entonces dijimos que sí.”
This just keeps getting better and better in a bad way. I couldn’t believe John called my parents.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone?” Mami asked me again. I had never told my mom about anyone I had gone out with since Carlos. Of course, I’d never seriously dated anyone, until John.
I finally got off the phone with my mom and told her I would meet them at the game. I didn’t tell her we’d been broken up because I knew how much my mom had wanted me to find a boyfriend, so I acted like everything was wonderful. Of course, my parent’s were impressed that he was a professional baseball player and had the means to take care of their little girl. Old-school thinking.
I wanted to scream. John and Loren were definitely on my shit list right now for putting me in an uncomfortable position.
We were sitting in the stands watching both teams warming up before the game. I was sitting next to Loren and Andrew, and my parents were sitting next to John’s parents right behind us. This was John’s doing on the seating arrangements I’m sure. John’s parents were very friendly and happy to see me. I didn’t know to what extent his parents knew about our situation.
Since John was the visiting team, we were seated closer to third base behind the visitor’s dugout on the first and second row. I saw John across the field playing catch with another teammate. My heart thudded like a love cartoon meme threatening to beat out of my chest knowing John was about to play the game of his life and in the same vicinity as I.
Loren nudged me and pointed. “John’s over there.”
“I see that,” I said calmly although I still had not completely forgiven her. Although I still couldn’t stop staring at John Freakin’ McKeon.
As I watched, I heard Rachel tell my mom, “Well, Ana, now I see where your daughter gets her looks. You two could pass for sisters.”
“Aw, thank you. Now, which one is your boy?” I cringed because I’m certain Rachel was wondering why my parents didn’t know John.
She listened as Rachel pointed him out and talked about John and me. It was somewhat embarrassing considering the circumstances. Rachel went on about how wonderful it was to meet me the day they had us over in late August. I’m sure Mami was upset that I hadn’t introduced him to her.
As the start time neared, the players began moving to the dugouts. We were seated near the end of the dugout where the players entered, so it was easy to see each player as they approached. As John loped closer, his mom started cheering for him and pulled out a huge poster board sign she’d made holding it up as she yelled. I thought it was adorable. She probably did the same thing when her baby boy was eight in little league. Everyone in our group started cheering, so I had no choice but to clap too.
Of course, he looked our way. He seemed focused with his game face on. But when he saw me, he paused and did a double take and gave me the most beautiful smile, dimples and all, with his hand dramatically clutched over his chest. I couldn’t look away. When John put on the charm, you were a goner. He was the heartbreaker. He finally continued to the dugout.
“OMG Rose did you see how he was looking at you?” Loren asked like a fifteen year old who’d just been asked out by the star athlete.
I shrugged it off.
By the time the first pitch was thrown, the stadium was packed and loud. Chicago batted first being the visiting team. The first two batters both struck out. John was next in the lineup. Although I didn’t have a good view of him playing first, I had a great view of him batting. I basically stared at his butt while he stood on deck. My view wasn’t obstructed when he went up to the plate either since he was a right-handed hitter.
As he stood at the plate in his stance, the first pitch was thrown—whack—going, going, gone! He homered on his first pitch. Our group was yelling and high-fiving as John trotted around the bases. When he touched home he dapped his teammate on deck, and fellow teammates were standing outside the dugout to give him props. His eyes met mine, and he signaled to me.
Of course, Loren had to nudge me. “Rose, he is crazy about you.”
“Because he pointed to me?” My heart was beating a little faster.
As the top of the fourth began, the other team was up 3–1. John was on deck waiting for the guy ahead of him to bat. His teammate hit a single. Our little group that became the McKeon fan club voiced our support as John stepped up to the plate.
The first pitch was a strike. The next was a ball. Another ball. A foul. I felt my nerves pricking my skin, praying that John wouldn’t strike out. John looked like someone who didn’t even know what nerves were. He cracked his neck from side-to-side, adjusted his gloves, scanning the outfield with eyes n
arrowed. He casually brought his bat back as he bent into his stance. The next pitch seemed to be in slow motion in my mind, but I heard the crack of the bat, and John’s swing was poetry in motion. I knew it was a home run when I saw John drop the bat like it was business as usual, and do his casual lope to first base. Again, our small section went crazy while the majority of the stadium did not. Amid the hand slapping with his teammates, he again eyed me and winked. Now, the game was tied. And, my heart was fried.
By the top of the ninth, the teams were tied 4–4. It was the top of the batting rotation, and the lead off hitter was thrown out at first. The second batter struck out. John stood at the plate and fouled off the first pitch. However, on the second pitch, he sent the ball almost to the second mezzanine of the stadium. His third home run of the game.
Again, we were going insane among the home fans that sat quietly. John was doing his battle-cry thing as he approached the dug out. I was so proud of him; I begrudgingly admitted. How could I not be impressed by his play? He was amazing. He had kept his team in the game, and given them the lead back. He went into the dugout, but then I saw him pop back out to grin and acknowledge me again. He looked like a little boy having the time of his life playing baseball in the backyard. I couldn’t stop the joy I felt for him.
The game was down to the last out, and Joey was our closer. The home team was still trailing by one but had two men on first and second. The next guy hit a grounder straight to Joey who scooped it up and threw it to first base. However, the throw went far right, and there was no way in hell John could’ve caught it causing the ball to edge out towards right field. The right fielder quickly retrieved it and zinged it home, but the runner who was at second beat the throw as he touched home plate, and the game was tied.
Now, the opposing team had a runner on second and third. The following batter missed on the first pitch, but on the second throw hit a low hard ball out to right field that bounced off the wall. That was enough to send another guy home. Chicago lost. The season was over. The home crowd was going wild as their team celebrated on the field. John looked like he wanted to break something as he stalked to the dugout. My heart was shattering piece by piece for him. He did not deserve to lose the way he played.
Later, we were all standing outside of the team’s locker room waiting with the rest of family and friends. I was very apprehensive about seeing John for a myriad of reasons, obviously; especially after losing a game that they were about to win if they could’ve only not made that fatal error in the end. I knew John would probably blame himself for not catching that throw from the pitcher. However, he would’ve needed Inspector Gadget arms to catch the ball.
“I know this game didn’t turn out the way we wanted it to, but I’m still proud of you guys. You fought hard all season and got us to this point. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” Our manager was trying to point out the positives amidst a gut wrenching kick to the nuts we just took.
But, it was difficult. We made a lethal mistake at the end that cost us the game. In the regular season, you could sometimes mask errors like that and still come out on top. However, play-off baseball was a different beast. You were playing the best of the best, and everyone stepped up their game to another level. I should’ve made adjustments to the throw and realized I wasn’t going to be able to keep my foot on base. The hitter wouldn’t have been out, but then the guy at second would’ve had to stay at third and not had the opportunity to make it to home plate if I would’ve stopped the ball.
It’s unreal how up and down my emotions were tonight. When I saw the support from my family, I was really pumped. And, then, I nearly died from shock seeing Rose. She’d been there for me. That even jacked up my adrenaline more.
I knew we were going to win. I never had a doubt. My batting was on point. And every time I went up to the plate, I told myself if I hit a home run, I would dedicate it to her. In a childish way, I wanted to impress her. But, I also wanted to win.
Then, that damn play happened at the end when all we needed was one more out—just one more. I kept reliving that play. And, all my confidence and joy went to shit. I’d wanted to punch something as I left the field.
Unfortunately, I had to discipline myself to not throw a tantrum because there were reporters in the locker room interviewing us. And, of course, I was one of the interviewees. I knew the questions would be about the ninth inning, so I sat there and took it in the shorts trying to be as civil as possible.
We didn’t have that much time to hang around because we still had to fly back to Chicago later tonight. Tomorrow, players would begin clearing out their lockers and doing exit interviews with the staff, and the off-season would begin.
As we began filing out of the clubhouse, I scanned the group of people waiting for us. There were a lot of people because all the players had purchased tickets for family members and friends. Finally, I spotted Andrew and my dad because they were tall and stood out. All I wanted to do was find Rose and fall into her arms, but I didn’t see her.
My mom ran up to me first and threw her arms around me. “John, you played so well. You did everything you could. I’m so proud of you.” She pulled my head down kissing me on the cheek. She was crying. “I love you, baby.”
“Thanks, Mom. I love you, too.” I looked around, still not seeing Rose. Where the fuck was she? Did I dream this?
My dad patted me on the shoulder. “Son, you played hard.”
I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but that’s all he said. He didn’t say much, but it meant a lot to me. “Thanks, Dad.”
Then, Andrew and Loren were swarming me trying to make me feel better too. I appreciated the support, but… “Where’s Rose?” I asked scanning the area, wondering if she already left, which would’ve been the ultimate blow to an already unhappy ending to the season.
Loren pointed over by the back wall. “She’s waiting with her parents over there.”
“Why didn’t she come over here?” I was annoyed. She was the first person I’d wanted to see.
Loren shrugged. I pushed through the crowd and saw my girl standing with her parents. She had on a tee with the team’s logo and skinny jeans and sneakers. She looked gorgeous as always but wasn’t wearing my jersey. I pushed that thought aside, at least she showed up.
I pulled up in front of her, not knowing if she would allow me to touch her or not, the last time we were together was still fresh on my mind. She had her hair pulled back and glasses on which drove me crazy. I really wanted to touch her. “You came to my game.”
“I did. You played great, John.” She was trying to stay positive knowing I wouldn’t want to rehash the game. That’s how she handled me after a loss. I was pissed about the loss, devastated even, but my need to make up with Rose was so much more important to me. She turned to her parents beside her and introduced them.
Wow. Her mom was freaking beautiful, too. They could’ve passed for sisters. “There is no way that you’re old enough to be her mom.” I took her hand and caught Rose rolling her eyes, but smiling. I’m sure she thought I was so full of bullshit, but it was the truth. Her mom was hot. For a mom.
Her mother blushed and grinned. Then, I shook her dad’s hand, and he was very complimentary on my play. After a few minutes, Ana wanted to know when I would visit them. I said soon watching Rose to see her reaction. She nodded.
“That would be nice because I feel like we’re at a disadvantage since we really know nothing about you.” She frowned and turned to Rose speaking like an angry Sofia Vergara to her in Spanish.
“Okay, Mom, I’m sorry.” Again her eyes shot up to the ceiling. Rose’s go-to-I’m-done-with-you-look. Her mom was getting on her nerves.
I’m fairly certain she was pissed I’d contacted them without her knowing. However, I was a little shocked that she hadn’t mentioned me to them. When I called, it seemed her mom thought it was a prank call or a wrong number because she had no knowledge of me or of her daughter dating anyone.
I wanted
to talk to Rose for a minute without her parents around, but first I needed to do something. “Excuse me, can I steal Rose for a minute? I need to introduce her to someone.”
After her parent’s consented, I put my hand on Rose’s back guiding her around. She caught on to where we were going. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do. I told you I would introduce you.” We stood in front of the owner; Lisa wasn’t there, thank God.
After we conversed for a few minutes, I led Rose over to a private area where we could talk. There wasn’t much time left until we would have to make our way to the charter. She stood by silently gazing around.
As I studied her, I noticed she’d looked a little frail. She’d lost weight she didn’t need to lose. “I’ve missed you. Are you okay? You look thinner, too thin.”
“I’m fine.”
“You never told your parents about us.”
“I was going to, but then we broke up.”
“We broke up? You’re the one who ended it. This wasn’t my decision.”
No response, she averted her eyes. I went on. “Loren told me you haven’t been happy.”
“Loren needs to mind her own damn business. I can’t believe she gave you my parent’s number.”
“Why? She’s concerned for you, and I wanted to invite the parents of the girl I love to the game.” I said it. I’d already kind of professed it in the card with the flowers I’d sent. Her eyes widened at my admission. “Did you even get the flowers I sent?”
She nodded solemnly. “They’re beautiful.” She gazed at me still appearing unhappy and whispered, “Why are you doing this to me?” Why was she here and upset?
“What am I doing, baby?” I asked softly as I wrapped my arms around her.
“You say and do all of the right things…” Her palms were on my chest, and she dropped her head shaking it from side-to-side.
“Do you think I’m lying to you?” I lifted her chin, bringing her eyes up to mine. “Do you?”
“I-I don’t know,” she said seriously, and her eyes looked tormented as if she were fighting an inner battle with herself.