Making a Comeback

by Kristina Mathews

  She didn’t bother picking up a magazine. It wouldn’t hold her attention, not when her thoughts flitted from the end of her career to the start of something with her hot neighbor. Her musical, mysterious, and magnificent neighbor.

  She’d flat out asked him if he’d been in prison and he’d denied it. He wasn’t married either. She believed him on both accounts.

  A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

  “How are you feeling today?” The doctor, a young, fairly attractive man, stepped into the room.

  “Much better, thanks.” Annabelle was grateful to be in street clothes and not some flimsy gown.

  He glanced at the chart, nodding to give the impression he was studying her case carefully.

  “Are you still suffering headaches? Confusion?”

  “The headaches are mostly gone.” As for the confusion, she knew that had more to do with her neighbor and less to do with the accident. “And I’m feeling much more myself lately.”

  “Good, that’s good.” The doctor set the chart aside and approached her. He examined her face, or rather her stitches. “The incision looks good. No sign of infection.”

  “But there will be a scar.” It wasn’t a question. She already knew the answer.

  “It will fade over time, but yes, you can expect significant scarring from lacerations of this severity. Down the road, you may be able to have plastic surgery to lessen the appearance of the scars, but it’s too early to tell how well they’ll heal.”

  The doctor reached for his tray of instruments, and selected the necessary tools to remove the stitches, one tiny thread at a time. It seemed to take forever. She imagined her agent growing restless in the waiting room. But it wasn’t as if she could take them out herself.

  Finally, he was finished.

  “What about driving?” Annabelle asked, resisting the urge to feel her skin where he’d been working. “I’m hoping to get back out on the road soon. Before my friends stop taking my calls.”

  The joke fell flat. She was a model, not a comedic actress.

  “We have a series of cognitive tests to run through before we can clear you.” He made it all sound so routine. “It’s done on computer, so we’ll get immediate results. I’ll let them know you’re ready.”

  “How long will this take?” She was getting antsy. “So I can let my ride know when we’ll be finished.”

  “It should take from thirty to forty minutes. Depending on how you do.”

  “Thank you.”

  The doctor left and she pulled out her phone to text Victor and let him know they’d be here at least another hour.

  Victor assured her that he was fine, he could catch up from anywhere thanks to modern technology.

  Twenty minutes went by before another knock on the door was followed by the entrance of another person in a white coat.

  “I’m Dr. Sherman.” The young woman smiled and offered a hand. “I’m the psychologist who will be administering your test.”

  Annabelle shook hands with the new doctor and readied herself for whatever was coming next.

  “There are several questions that will test your memory, cognitive processing, and reaction times,” the psychologist explained. “It was originally designed for athletes, but we’ve found it helpful in assessing patients’ ability to resume driving.”

  “I’ll feel better knowing I can get back on the road safely.” Annabelle hoped she was ready. She had been dependent on others for too long. She was ready to resume her independence.

  * * * *

  Cooper had finished another throwing session with Brandon. He felt pretty good even after throwing about a hundred tosses. Still not ready to get on the mound, but he was starting to believe it would be possible.

  Progress.

  “Looking good out there, guy.” Sanders gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder. His right shoulder, not his pitching arm.

  “Feeling good out there.” And he meant it.

  “You want to grab a burger and a beer?” his friend asked. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  “I’ll take you up on the burger.” Cooper tossed his glove in his bag. “And the catching up. But I’ll pass on the beer.”

  His friend raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Good. Cooper didn’t want to rehash why he felt like he had to go above and beyond being a good citizen. Avoiding drugs, alcohol, and driving over the speed limit. He paid his taxes early, made anonymous charitable contributions, and he always remembered to bring his reusable grocery sacks to the market.

  But it wouldn’t matter how “good” he was from here on out. He’d always be remembered as a cheater. There would always be that one guy in the crowd who’d call him out, heckling him, harassing him, and making sure he would never forget what he’d done to disgrace himself, his team, and the game.

  “Suit yourself.” Sanders shrugged, grabbing his worn cap from when they were Titans, the Goliaths’ double-A affiliate. “You can drive, then.”

  “Sure, why not.” Cooper shouldered his duffle bag and waited while his friend left instructions with his receptionist.

  They drove to an out-of-the-way burger joint. It was old school. No sweet potato fries or low-carb options. Just meat, cheese, bun. Greasy shoestring fries came with the burgers and a variety of condiments were kept on the table. Four different mustards, relish, and of course ketchup and mayo.

  Sanders ordered a beer and Cooper stuck with the sun tea brewed right there on the back porch, next to where the cook took his cigarette breaks. He’d been coming here long before he started worrying about every single thing he put into his body. And a little cholesterol was probably much healthier than the crap he’d ingested or injected a year ago.

  “So the arm’s good?” Sanders asked once they settled in with their drinks.

  “As far as I can tell.” Cooper took a sip of his tea, almost wishing he’d joined his friend in having a beer. “But I haven’t really challenged it yet.”

  “Holding out until you get to spring training?”

  “Just getting to the point where I feel like I can answer my agent’s phone calls.” If Stan ever had reason to call.

  “Any bites?”

  “I passed on Toronto.” Mostly because he didn’t want to travel that far only to fail.

  “I’m sure something will come up.” His friend didn’t sound too optimistic, though. “There’s always a need for lefties out of the pen.”

  “If I’m healthy.”

  “Any pain?” Sanders looked him straight in the eye. One of the few people who could ask such a personal question and get a straight answer.

  “No.” It still amazed him. “I lived with the pain for so long, I almost don’t know what to do without it.”

  “Yeah, I can only imagine what that feels like.”

  They both had known their share of pain. A ballplayer got to a certain point in the season and there was always something that hurt. But they were expected to man up. Work through it. In the minors, giving into the pain might cost a player his shot at the big leagues. Once he got to the Majors, Cooper had felt the need to live up to his contract. They’d paid him a lot of money to be available every night.

  “You think you’re a hundred percent?” Sanders asked.

  “Hard to say without throwing off a mound. Or facing hitters.” Cooper wanted to believe he could come back, all the way. But the game was more than just a physical thing. There was the whole mental component. And that was a lot harder to rehab.

  “You think you’ll make a comeback?”

  “I hope so.” Cooper gave a pained grin. “I don’t know what the hell else I’d do. I’ve played baseball my whole life.”

  “You know you could always come work for me.”

  “What about the kids? Their parents?”

  “What about them?”

  “Come on, I used PEDs. I got suspended. Who would put their trust in a guy like me?”
/>
  “Get over yourself.” Sanders set his beer glass down on the table with such force that several people turned to look at them. “You’re not a freaking priest. You’re a baseball player. A guy who’s been there. If you can help prepare these kids for the next step, whether it’s college or the pros, that’s all they give a shit about.”

  “I cheated.”

  “And you think that makes you special?”

  “So you’re saying it’s no big deal?”

  “No. You screwed up. Big time.” His friend shook his head. “But if you can’t get past it, no one will.”

  Cooper grunted, knowing that was his biggest obstacle.

  “So, you want to tell me about the car seats in the back of your Escalade?” Sanders eyed him over his frosty mug. “You adopt a couple of kids or something?”

  “Just helping a neighbor.”

  “I never thought of you as the single mom type.” Sanders laughed. “She must be pretty hot.”

  “Annabelle Jones.” Just saying her name got his heart racing.

  “That hot?” Sanders nodded as if he was very impressed. Back in the day, they’d created a rating system for attractive women. The levels were “hot,” “scalding,” and “Annabelle Jones.” The latter meaning a woman so far out of their league she might as well be Annabelle Jones.

  Their food arrived and Cooper busied himself with his burger. He loaded the lettuce and tomatoes onto the meat and spread a thin layer of spicy mustard on the bun.

  “Annabelle Jones moved in next door to me.” Cooper held his burger, ready to take a bite. “With her twin daughters.”

  “You’re kidding me? The Annabelle Jones?” Sanders took a big bite, moaning in appreciation.

  “Nope. She’s there. Right next door.” Cooper bit into his lunch, but found it less than satisfying. “She’s been in an accident. I’ve been helping her get around.”

  “Oh, come on, your fantasy girl moves in next door and you’re just helping her get around?”

  “Yeah. I’m just helping her and her kids out.” He really didn’t want to get into his relationship with Annabelle. Especially since he didn’t have any idea what their relationship was. He’d tried to keep his distance, but each day he became more and more drawn to her. She wanted him too, but that would change when he told her the truth.

  “Sure.” Sanders nodded his head, but Cooper could tell he was skeptical. “And you’re just tossing the ball around for fun.”

  “Look, I don’t know anything about anything right now.” The three bites of hamburger sat like a rock in his stomach. “I don’t have a contract. I don’t know if I can pitch even if I did. And Annabelle?”

  He sank back into the vinyl seat. He was crazy about her. But it wasn’t the image of her he’d carried around all these years. It was the real woman who made his heart pound, his pulse race, and his head spin fairy tales about one big happy family.

  “You really like her?” His friend wiped his mouth with a napkin. “You’re not just trying to live out your fantasy?”

  “Look, we both know nothing is as good as it seems.” They had both been kids with a dream of playing professional baseball. They had both lived with the reality of grueling schedules, sore muscles, playing through pain, and watching other guys move up faster. They had seen relationships fall apart and guys lose their focus because of demands from home.

  “And we both know some things are better than you even imagined.” Sanders gave him a hard look. The kind of look only a real good friend could give a man. “Remember your first day in the Majors? Was it as good as you’d thought it would be?”

  “It was better.”

  “What about Annabelle? Is she as beautiful up close?”

  “You have no idea.” Cooper’s chest grew tight. “But it’s not her beauty that… She’s great. Really great. She’s smart, funny. She’s a great mom. But she’s not the kind of woman you just fool around with. Even if she didn’t have kids. But she does. And…”

  “Kids can complicate things.”

  “And husbands.” Cooper wasn’t sure if he could get past that. “She’s in the middle of a divorce.”

  “So you’re standing by, being a good friend, waiting for her to be available?”

  “Shit. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Cooper ran his fingers through his hair. For the first time in his life, he cared more about what Annabelle needed than what he wanted. “I should just stay away. I’m no good for anyone right now. I don’t have a job. And if even I did, it wouldn’t be around here. Hell, if I’m lucky I’ll end up in Japan or Korea.”

  “Would you take it?”

  “I don’t know.” He was still young enough that a year or two overseas could land him back on a major league roster. But did he really want to go that route?

  He had money saved. He had his investments in real estate, and the market was coming back around after several years of losing equity in his properties. He could take another year off. Figure out what the hell he was going to do after baseball.

  After baseball. He’d never really thought about what would come next.

  Now it was all he thought about.

  When he wasn’t thinking about Annabelle. And her daughters. And how the four of them seemed to fit together so well.

  Chapter 12

  Cooper had dropped Sanders off at the training facility. He hadn’t meant to take so long at lunch and now he wondered if he’d forgotten what time Annabelle had her doctor’s appointment. Maybe she hadn’t said. Or maybe with everything that was happening between them he’d forgotten. But the twins would be getting off the bus in two hours, so he wanted to make sure one of them would be there.

  He pulled into his driveway and started for the back door, but for some reason his instinct sent him around to the front of the house.

  Sure enough, there was Annabelle, wrapped in a blanket on her front porch swing, staring off into the distance.

  “Is everything okay?” He asked, even though he was pretty sure it wasn’t.

  “I can’t drive.” She didn’t look up. Didn’t move at all, she just continued staring out into some unknown place. “They gave me a test and I passed all but one section. I guess you’re stuck with me a little longer.”

  “Hey, it’s no big deal.” He tried to keep his tone light. There was something in her voice that told him this was difficult for her. “I don’t mind being your slave for a while longer.”

  “Thanks.” She didn’t sound all that grateful. She sounded resigned. Defeated.

  “So can you appeal? Retake the test?”

  “I can go back in a couple of days. But what if… No, I will get better. I have to.” A little bit of the spunk he’d come to associate with Annabelle returned to her voice.

  “I’m here if you need me.”

  “I don’t want to need you.” She looked up for the first time, and he could see her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. Not any less beautiful to him, but it killed him to see her hurting.

  “My whole life I’ve had to rely on one man or another.” Apparently she had something to get off her chest. “First my father, and then my husband. I don’t need another man to take care of me. I don’t need another man to tell me what to do.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of telling you what to do.” He sat down next to her. “I don’t want to take care of you. I mean, I do, but not because you can’t take care of yourself.”

  She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself.

  “I know what it’s like to want to prove to the world, and to yourself, that you have all the answers. That you don’t need to rely on anyone.” Maybe he should tell her now. Who he was. What he’d done. “I’ve been in a situation where I thought if I just stayed strong and didn’t admit weakness, I could overcome anything.”

  When she didn’t ask questions, he kept talking.

  “I screwed up. Big time.” He never would have thought that Annabelle Jones would be the one person
he wanted to confess his sins to. But he couldn’t think of anyone else in the world he wanted to understand him more. “I tried to be a lone ranger. Tried to be so self-reliant that I forgot that life is a team sport.”

  She titled her head just slightly, as if she was seeing a piece of the puzzle fall into place.

  “By the time I realized I need help, I ended up turning to the wrong sort of people.” He raked his hands through his hair. He hated the fact that he’d screwed up so badly. But if he could help Annabelle in any way, it was worth it. “By the time I admitted I couldn’t do it on my own, I was desperate. I took what I could get. And I relied on people who didn’t have my best interests at heart.”

  “Do you have my best interests at heart?” Annabelle’s voice was skeptical, and maybe a little bit hopeful.

  “Absolutely.” He reached up and brushed her hair off her cheek. “Hey, you got your stitches out.”

  “Yes. My agent took me earlier today.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “My former agent. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “Honey, you could never be a bother for me.” At first he was hurt by the fact she’d chosen someone else to take her to the doctor. But then he realized he could use it to his advantage. “But I’m glad you have options. You don’t need me. You don’t need me at all.”

  Cooper stood as if he was going to leave her.

  “Wait.” Annabelle reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Don’t go.”

  He knelt down in front of her, taking her face between his palms. “Don’t you know I would do anything you ask? Anything you need. Anything you want…”

  “Anything?” She turned her face toward him. Lifted her chin and smiled. “Anything I want?”

  “Anything.” His heart hammered in his chest. “Unless you ask me to walk away and leave you alone.”

  Her face twisted in an expression he couldn’t quite read. Maybe he’d said the wrong thing, but it was the absolute truth. Walking away from Annabelle would be a thousand times harder than walking away from baseball.

  “I have a request.” Her voice shook, as if she was afraid to ask for what she really needed. In that moment, he hated every man she’d ever had to rely on in the past.