“But you didn’t. I asked you to, and you didn’t. You chose your job over me and my family, once again.”
“But I know now I was wrong. I wasn’t a team player, but I’m telling you I learned my lesson. I want to be the kind of teammate you and the boys deserve.”
Molly rubbed her face. Again with the damn sports clichés. “You keep talking like that. You keep calling us a team, but I don’t want to be your teammate.”
Duke winced. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you see? I don’t want to live my life in some grand sports analogy.”
Duke stared at her, tears filling her eyes. “So it’s just over? You’re giving up on me? On us?”
“There is no us, Duke. There’s been you and me and the boys and the game, always the game. It’s like you’ve got a mistress, only worse because I can’t even compete with a game.”
“You don’t have to compete. This isn’t a competition.”
“Everything is about the competition with you. The winning gracefully and losing with honor, you embody everything that’s good and noble about baseball, but even with your no-‘I’-in-‘team’ mentality, you’re missing the point.”
“What’s the point?”
“You should’ve asked yourself if there was an ‘I’ in ‘parent,’ because that’s what Charlie needed today.” Molly sighed. “And there’s no ‘I’ in ‘partner,’ and there’s no ‘I’ in ‘forever,’ either.”
Duke opened her mouth, but Molly cut her off. “I want to be with someone who puts me and the boys first. I don’t think you’re capable of that. You might learn to say the right things or do the right things, and you’re great about apologizing when you don’t, but we’re never going to have your whole heart, and we deserve better.”
Duke hung her head, and her shoulders started to shake. Molly’s resolve began to crumble. She exhaled as evenly as she could, but her chest trembled at the sight of Duke’s grief. She’d said good-bye enough times in her life to know what the end felt like. She knew how to shut down her emotions, to stay logical and stoic, to dissociate herself from what had to be done. She’d spent years perfecting the art of burying fear and sadness beneath a stony façade, and she’d never doubted her ability to protect herself until now. She’d stood up to threats and tears, begging and yelling, isolation and total bombardment. None of them had touched her the way Duke’s quiet tears twisted her heart.
Duke balled the cuff of her shirtsleeve in her fist and used it to wipe her eyes. The move struck Molly as so innocent, so vulnerable, and no matter how she tried to raise those old familiar walls, she suspected they’d fall again if only Duke would mount one more attack, one more impassioned speech, or so much as caress her cheek.
Instead she nodded and said, “You’re right.”
“What?”
“You and the boys deserve better. You’re amazing. This family you’ve built is so beautiful, and I wanted so much to be a part of it.” Duke sniffed back another bout of tears. “But you should have someone who makes you feel like the center of the universe. I wanted to be that person, but I failed you. I don’t know what to do now. I’m so sorry.”
Molly bit her lip to keep from crying, too. Why wasn’t Duke fighting her? Where were her catchy replies and heartfelt life lessons now? She should’ve been countering Molly’s every point, not agreeing with them. She wasn’t prepared for this. She’d expected to have to defend herself against Duke’s best. Instead, she was fighting her urge to defend Duke against her own brokenness. “You didn’t fail.”
“I did,” Duke said. “I should’ve been better, at everything. I shouldn’t have put you through this in the first place.”
Molly reached to touch her, then pulled back. If they were in agreement, and if Duke wasn’t capable of being what Molly needed, there was nowhere left for them to go. She stood and collected the suitcase.
Duke followed her to the door and opened it, but before stepping through she turned and met Molly’s eyes one more time. “I’m sorry I didn’t have enough heart when it counted.”
“Don’t say that. You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. It’s just full. You’ve got an amazing ability to love. Everyone who meets you can see it and feel it like the light or warmth from the sun, but it’s only a reflection like the moon giving light that isn’t its own.” She wiped her eyes before going on. “What we had was wonderful, but it was always going to be eclipsed. You’re never going to love anything the way you love baseball.”
Duke hung her head as the tears began to fall once more, but she didn’t disagree. Apparently she couldn’t fight the truth any more than Molly could, and maybe that was what hurt most of all. There was no anger, no blame, no more options.
Molly kissed her tear-streaked cheek. “Come on, slugger, there’s no crying in baseball.”
The corner of Duke’s mouth curled up slightly, and she nodded. Swallowing her emotions once more she managed to say, “Good-bye, Molly.”
Molly closed the door before whispering, “Good-bye, Duke.”
She stumbled over to the couch and curled into a ball before the sobs came. There might not have been any crying in baseball, but she was done with that game and the hold it had over her life.
*
“Yes, sir, I’m still interested in the job,” Molly said, then immediately covered the phone with her hand so her boss’s boss couldn’t hear Charlie singing loudly in the bathtub. She stuck her head into the hallway and snapped her fingers to get Joe’s attention. He looked up from the television long enough for her motion for him to come into the bathroom.
“We’ll have the paperwork all sorted out in the next week or so.” He continued, oblivious to the parenting juggling act she was performing. “But the job is yours.”
“Thank you, thank you.” Molly pointed from her eyes to Joe’s to Charlie, who was still splashing happily. Joe nodded, and she left the bathroom. “I promise I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t. We’re just glad no one stole you away from us. When you took off a few weeks ago, we thought you might’ve had another interview.”
Molly didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to tell him she hadn’t even considered other jobs, much less had the time to search. “I’m dedicated to being the best daytime manager you’ve ever had.”
“In that case, go celebrate. We’ll talk details about salary and benefits on Monday.”
Salary? Benefits? She felt so light-headed she had to sit down on the edge of the bed. “Thank you. Again, thank you.”
She hung up and flopped back onto the mattress. Relief flooded through her. She was moving up. No more waiting tables. No more coffee stains. No more kissing butts of picky clients. Well, maybe there’d still be plenty of that, as the manager always got called into those situations. But still, from now on she’d be giving as many orders as she followed. And regular hours, or more regular at least, no more wondering if she’d have enough hours to feed her family or too many to cover with child care. And insurance, guaranteed. Tears filled her eyes again.
Crying had become a more frequent occurrence since Duke had left five days ago. She’d rarely let herself dwell on her absence or wallow in heartbreak, but those emotions seeped through every crack in her façade. She’d never been sentimental, but now she found herself fighting tears over little things, Charlie’s bedtime stories, Joe’s evening prayers, commercials for animal shelters, and at least with this announcement, she could identify the overarching emotion as relief and not sadness.
She wiped away a tear that spilled over and pushed herself back to a sitting position. No matter what the reason, she shouldn’t be crying right now. Celebrate. That’s what her boss had said, and he was the boss, after all.
“Hey, boys,” she called out, “who wants some ice cream?”
“Yay!” Charlie called.
“Really?” Joe stuck his head into the hallway. “Why?”
“Because I got a promotion.”
; His smile spread so wide his cheeks pushed up his glasses. He threw his arms around her. “I knew you would get it.”
“Thanks, honey, you might have been the only one.”
“No, Duke knew, too,” he said. “She told me you were a no-doubter. We should call her.”
Her chest constricted, not because she didn’t want to call Duke, but because she did. Joe was right. She’d been such a big part of this process it didn’t seem right for her to not be a part of the celebration, but nothing about Duke felt right anymore. Maybe that was why she hadn’t told the boys about the breakup, or maybe she didn’t know how. As far as they knew, Duke was on another road trip. Which she was, with her real team, the team she’d consistently chosen over them.
She sighed. “Duke’s working right now. We can’t interrupt.”
Joe’s big brown eyes narrowed skeptically. She’d have to have a serious conversation with him soon, but tonight she wanted to enjoy her accomplishment. She grabbed a towel and swooped Charlie out of the bath. “Here. You get this little fish dried off and into his pj’s. I’ll dish up some ice cream.”
She headed to the kitchen and filled three bowls with mint chocolate chip, then rummaged around the fridge for some chocolate syrup. She knew it would likely turn Charlie into a sugar tornado, but she was in no hurry to put the boys to bed. A little chaos seemed so much better than a quiet house.
She listened to the sounds of them laughing. That was her family, everything that mattered. Then she heard Duke’s voice and froze.
She sounded far-off and filtered, but there was no mistaking her good-natured laugh or her easy cadence as she said, “I’m so glad to hear that, and to hear your voice, Joe.”
Molly’s chest ached as the longing to hear that voice say her name again rose to overwhelm her.
“Is she there?” Duke asked as Joe walked around the corner into the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Joe said, extending the phone to Molly.
She tried to give him a stern look. “I told you not to bother her at work.”
“I didn’t. Charlie did,” he said seriously. “He knows which button is her number in your phone.”
“I told you he was a social media guru,” Duke said through the speaker.
Molly made a mental note to add a password to her phone. She took the call off speaker and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Duke said softly. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry the boys interrupted you at work.”
“Don’t be. My heart about leapt out of my chest when I saw your number. I’ve wanted to talk to you so much these past few days.”
She refrained from mentioning she’d actually picked up the phone to call her more than a few times. “The boys miss you.”
“Just the boys?”
“Duke…”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. That’s why I haven’t called. I’m not what you need right now. We both agreed on that.”
Had they? They must have, but now with Duke’s voice soft and low in her ear, all those memories seemed hazy.
“I know we can’t be together, and I’m not going to try to win you back, but I don’t want to lose you all from my life completely.”
The statement about Duke not wanting her back stung so badly she almost missed the second part. “What do you mean?”
“We were friends first, Mol, and I know it won’t be easy for you and me to go back, but I promised both you and the boys I wouldn’t ever abandon you. I meant it then, and I mean it now.”
“I don’t know, being around you right now…” Her chest ached so sharply she couldn’t finish her sentence.
“I know. It won’t be easy for me either, but this isn’t about us. We have the boys to think about, too, and my disappearing isn’t fair to them.” Duke sighed and Molly heard a loud cheer go up behind her. The Pirates must have gotten a hit. Molly wondered if Duke’s attention was divided as she continued. “What if I didn’t come over there but planned to spend some time with them at the ballpark?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t planned on going to the games this weekend.”
“What? It’s the last home stand of the season.”
“I know, but it’ll be too hard for us all to be there together but not together.”
“It doesn’t have to be. We can all still have a relationship to each other through the game. I know you don’t want to hear about baseball right now, but this is an important time for Joe. He’s learning that people come and go, relationships shift and change, and few things last forever. He needs something constant, something steady. Baseball can be all those things, especially now as the season comes to a close. He deserves closure.” Duke’s voice had risen steadily, then dropped to almost a whisper. “Please, Molly, it’s almost killing me to know I ruined our chance at a relationship. Please don’t make me the reason those kids lose their relationship to baseball, too.”
She wanted to snap back that once again Duke had her priorities out of line. As usual, she’d put baseball above everything else. She couldn’t find it in her endless amounts of love and devotion to fight for them as a couple, but she had no trouble crafting an eloquent defense of the relationship between a fan and the sport. She should’ve hung up on her, and if Duke had made any of that about them, she might have, but Duke’s only concern had been the boys’ well-being. She hadn’t asked for a single thing for herself. If anything, taking more time off to see her ex right before the biggest games of the season should’ve been more torturous for Duke than for Molly, and yet she was the one putting the family before her own convenience. Molly had a hard time questioning the roots of her devotion when it so clearly benefitted her sons.
“Molly, please. You don’t ever have to see me again outside of the ballpark.”
“Fine.” Why did she even argue with her? Duke never pushed or overpowered her. She never yelled or browbeat or bullied. Molly could’ve withstood those tactics without struggle, but Duke always appealed to her better angles, usually the boys, and she won. “The ballpark is neutral territory. We’ll see you before the game on Friday.”
“Thank you,” Duke said quietly, “and I’m sorry we got off track earlier. I’m happy you got the promotion. I’m glad my distractions didn’t get in the way of at least one thing you truly deserved.”
Molly’s eyes filled with tears again as her emotions ran full circle. She considered telling her that their godforsaken trip to Chicago might have actually helped her in the long run, but she refrained, either because she wasn’t ready to admit that to either of them, or maybe because she simply didn’t have the fortitude to dive back into their unraveling one more time. Instead she said, “Thank you,” once again before hanging up.
She wiped her eyes and turned around to see Joe standing in the doorway.
“Is everything okay?” he asked softly.
“Yeah,” she said with a smile she knew he saw through. “Everything except our ice cream. It’s melting.”
He stared at her for a second before finally wrapping his arms around her waist and squeezing her tightly. “It’ll be okay, Mom.”
She hugged him back tightly, fearing he’d stolen her line, but if only one of them could believe those words, she was glad it was him.
*
“We’re going to be late if you two don’t get dressed.” Molly nudged the boys toward their rooms. “I already laid out your clothes. Long sleeves under your jerseys tonight. It’ll be cool once the sun goes down.”
Charlie went eagerly, but Joe lingered. “It’s only four thirty. The game doesn’t start until seven.”
Molly stopped packing a bag with Charlie-friendly foods she’d spread out on the table. Had Joe actually complained about going to the stadium early? She reached out and laid her palm across his forehead.
“What was that for?”
She cupped his cheeks in her hands and looked into his eyes, so similar to her own. “Checking to see if you have a fever, but you don’t seem sic
k.”
“I’m not sick.”
“Has your body been snatched by aliens?”
He rolled his eyes. “No.”
“Then why aren’t you more excited about your first Cardinals game in a week?”
He shrugged. The move looked so much like Duke she winced. She’d left an impression on their lives beyond what she’d shared with Molly, and pretending like that wasn’t the case simply wasn’t an option.
She motioned for Joe to sit next to her at the dining room table. She’d put off this conversation long enough. He might not know what happened, but he clearly understood their relationship with Duke had changed, and she needed to give him a chance to talk about those things even if it hurt her to do so.
“You know sometimes in relationships, things change. People change, or don’t, but relationships are complicated.” Too abstract, but she didn’t know how else to start. She didn’t want to drag him into the details of what had gone wrong. She wasn’t even completely sure of those things herself.
“Did you change, or did Duke?” Joe asked.
“Well, maybe we both did, or maybe we only thought we had.” They’d both compromised to try to sustain the relationship. She’d given up on her dream of a steady partner for someone who lived on the road, and Duke had spent time away from the job she loved in order to please her. And yet, neither of those concessions had truly been enough. They couldn’t overcome their natures. Joe didn’t see any of that, though. He stared at her blankly. “I guess I’m saying no matter how hard we both tried, we ultimately wanted different things.”
“What did you want?”
“It’s hard to explain, honey, but I need someone who’s dedicated, someone who’s one hundred percent with us, someone who will put me and you and Charlie ahead of everything else in her life.”
He nodded. “You wanted her to love you more than baseball.”
Her eyes watered at his insight. How had her sweet, intuitive little boy been able to grasp what Duke couldn’t? Or maybe she understood but simply couldn’t deliver. “It’s not Duke’s fault. Love isn’t something you can make yourself feel. It’s something that either develops naturally or doesn’t.”
Heart of the Game Page 26