Dropped Third Strike (Portland Pioneers #1)

by Micah K. Chaplin

  Derek nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

  “I hope you know you can talk to me anytime. If you’re thinking about drinking or using or just feeling down, you have my number – use it. No matter what time it is.”

  “Thanks Coach. Are you going to tell Miss Marks about last night?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. How would you feel about me doing that?”

  Derek shrugged. “I suppose she has a right to know. But I feel like I got it under control. I don’t want her to worry I’m going to relapse. And I definitely don’t want anyone else thinking I’m mental or something.”

  “You’re not mental. Let’s just clear that up right away,” Reid said. “Second, I’ll refrain from telling her for now. Unless I see it becomes a more serious issue. I just want to look out for you, Derek. I’ve known other guys like you, and I don’t want to see you go down like they did.”

  Derek nodded. “Thanks. I promise I’ll get it together.”

  “Just fake it ‘til you make it if you have to. And let’s plan on getting some good pizza next week in Chicago.”

  Derek grinned and nodded before jogging out to the outfield where Sutter was waiting.

  Feeling good about the discussion, Reid continued on toward the clubhouse to see if Carson Slater was ready for a quick batting cage session. The young catcher hadn’t seen a ton of playing time yet, but as the season went on, he was likely to get a few more turns behind the dish to rest the starting catcher. Carson’s offense was still a concern for everyone involved – except Reid. He wasn’t worried about Carson at all. He’d been watching Carson in batting practice and the few at bats he’d gotten to take. The catcher’s batting average wasn’t anything impressive, but Reid saw progress. He knew it was only a matter of time before Carson really started hitting. Still, he agreed to some extra cage sessions in attempt to ease everyone else’s concerns.

  When he found Carson, he didn’t look the least bit concerned. In fact, he was whistling as he finished tying his shoes. Reid didn’t recognize the tune, but it sounded like it was off-key. Carson looked up and the whistling stopped, but only because his face split into an ear-to-ear grin.

  “Hey Coach B!” Carson exclaimed.

  “Wow, you’re really excited about this batting cage session,” Reid said.

  “Well, I’m always excited about that,” Carson said, smiling. “But today, there’s another reason I’m happy.”

  Reid studied Carson, waiting for him to reveal what had gotten into him. The guy was practically shaking with excitement. If he’d been a dog, Reid was pretty sure his tail would be wagging.

  “I’m gonna be a dad!” Carson said, unable to drag out the silence or mystery for very long.

  “Congratulations. Your first?”

  “Yeah. Due in December. We weren’t really trying, but we weren’t really preventing either, if you know what I mean. And it just happened. I can’t wait.”

  “Good going. That’ll be perfect time. You’ll get to spend time with the kid before baseball starts up again.”

  “Right. Like I said, we weren’t planning on this, but I think it’s perfect timing. This feels like my year.”

  Reid couldn’t resist agreeing with Carson’s optimism.

  “It sure seems to be,” he said. “Let’s get to work so we can see what else we can make happen in the Year of Carson.”

  It didn’t seem possible for Carson’s smile to be any bigger, but Reid’s comment seemed to cause just that. The two men headed down to the batting cage. Together, they did some arm stretches and then Reid set up the machine to let Carson take some swings. While he was hitting, Reid carefully studied his form. There was nothing wrong with it. In fact, Reid was impressed with the young man’s swing considering he’d been away from the game for an extended period of time. It gave Reid hope that maybe a little time away from playing wouldn’t hurt him either. Maybe it would even be good for him. While he was helping other players, maybe he would end up helping himself.

  After a little while, Carson put the bat down to take a break.

  “You know, I was reading about you online a few days ago, Coach B,” Carson said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you used to be a really good player. Everyone thought you were going to be an All-Star. What happened to you?”

  “That’s a good question,” Reid said. “I’ve thought about it a lot, but I still don’t really know what went wrong. I just stopped being able to hit. And once that got in my head, the rest of my game went downhill too.”

  “Do you want to play again?”

  “Of course. A true ballplayer never stops wanting to be in the game. You should know that better than anyone.”

  Carson nodded. “So then why are you here? Why aren’t you trying to play?”

  “No one wanted me to play this year.”

  “So you’re giving up?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “So then what are you doing to try and get back in it?”

  “I keep up with workouts so I’m still in shape. But right now, I’m really focused on you and your teammates. I want you guys to do well.”

  “Right, but hopefully you find time to work on your game too. Why don’t you take a few swings right now? You can use my bat.”

  Reid hesitated, but Carson was insistent, so he stood and took the bat. As he climbed into the cage, Carson went to the other end to set up the pitching machine. Reid took a few practice swings with the bat, getting a feel for the weight and nodding to Carson when he was ready. He missed badly on the first five balls and was about ready to tell Carson to turn it off. But as he stood up straight, he looked at Carson and three other players who had gathered to watch their coach. He realized he wouldn’t let them quit after just five swings, so he couldn’t allow himself to either. He got into his stance again and focused.

  Swing. Miss.

  Swing. Foul.

  Swing. Dribbler.

  Swing. Crack.

  The ball zoomed to the back of the cage.

  Reid was surprised by the sound the ball made when it came off his bat. He hadn’t heard that sound with such proximity in a long time. He was still staring down at the bat when the next pitch breezed by him. He got into stance again, and out of the next ten pitches, he hit seven of them solidly. As Carson turned the machine off, Reid straightened. He heard clapping and turned to see the other players applauding him.

  “OK, OK, enough of this,” Reid said, feeling more than a little flustered by all of the attention. “That was really fun, but this is your work time. Who’s next?”

  He stepped out of the cage and resumed his post near the machine so a few of the other hitters could take some swings. As he watched them, he kept thinking about those few moments when he’d had a bat in his hands. It felt amazing. He knew he missed playing, but those feelings were now amplified after that cage session. But he meant what he said to Carson – he was committed to helping the Pioneers for now, and he was going to make good on his promise.

  The morning after her date with Neal, Kate was still thinking about him and how much she had enjoyed his company. She was pretty sure she broke every code in the dating world when she texted him to suggest lunch. It would be at least another month before she had a chance to get to the Twin Cities again, and she wanted to make sure she saw Neal at least once more during this stay. He responded quickly and suggested a cafe for their meeting. Apparently he was equally as eager to see her, so Kate didn’t really care about breaking dating rules. Maybe it was time to make her own rules. Following everyone else’s guidelines hadn’t created much success for her in the past, so why not try something different? She didn’t figure she had much to lose with Neal anyway. If she blew it, she’d be gone in 24 hours anyway and she’d never have to see him again. If it worked, well, then they’d both find a way to see each other. Either way, her heart wouldn’t get broken. It couldn’t get broken. Neal was safe. And, for now, that’s exactly what she needed.

  The cafe he had recommended was cha
rming and unique. It was also really busy, which she took as a positive sign. Their 40-minute wait seemed to fly by as they chatted, and when they were finally seated, she saw why the place was so popular. The menu was overwhelming. It wasn’t that there was a large selection, but the dishes were so unique she wanted to try everything. As a compromise, she and Neal each chose a different dish and shared their selections. Both entrees were delicious, and while she rarely indulged in dessert, she agreed when he suggested ordering the piece of chocolate cake with salted caramel icing Kate had noticed when they walked in.

  The food and atmosphere were great, but it was the conversation Kate enjoyed the most. Neal was funny, thoughtful, and smart. He told some fascinating stories about his job and even a few about Jill’s husband. Kate looked forward to the next time she saw Nick so she could ask him about them. Kate was so caught up in Neal’s stories that she lost track of time. By the time he asked for the check, she glanced at her watch and saw that it was after two.

  “Oh no! I’m going to be late for the game,” she said.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you,” Neal said. “I had no idea.”

  “It’s fine. I should have been paying more attention to the time.”

  “Are you going to get in trouble?”

  “I’m the boss, so there’s really no one to get in trouble with.”

  “Oh, well then what’s the rush?”

  “It’s still my job, so I really need to get there. I’ve never been late before.”

  “Never? I’ll take that as a compliment then.”

  “You should,” she said, smiling at him.

  As they walked out to the street, he volunteered to drive her to Target Field.

  “It’s the least I can do for keeping you,” he said.

  She wanted to insist he didn’t owe her anything, but instead she just accepted the ride. It gave them more time to talk anyway. Conversation just came so easily for them, and Kate wished it didn’t have to end.

  “If you want, you could come to the game,” she said as they arrived at the ballpark.

  “I wish I could, but I have hockey practice in a few hours,” he said.

  “Oh, okay,” she said, surprised at the disappointment she felt.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “If I’d known I would like you this much, I would have made sure my weekend was free. Next time I will.”

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Really,” he said, nodding.

  He leaned over and put a hand on her neck, sliding it up behind her ear. Kate knew what was coming and she leaned over to meet him halfway. It started off as tentative and awkward as any first kiss, but once their mouths lined up, all of that changed. Neal’s lips were soft and inviting, and Kate’s responded eagerly. It had been months since her last kiss so she wasn’t sure if it was the drought or if Neal was really that good. It was probably a bit of both that made it difficult for her to pull away. When she finally did, he was still touching her face gently. The way he looked at her seemed to say he wanted more. She did too, but she knew she couldn’t. She smiled and pulled away slowly.

  “I have to go to work.”

  “Right. So I guess I’ll see you ...”

  “I’ll be back here just after the All-Star Break.”

  “And when is that?”

  “The last week in July.”

  “That’s two months away.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

  “Maybe you could come see me.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” he said.

  His tone was not very convincing, and Kate’s joy ebbed a bit. This wouldn’t be the first time her career created obstacles for her dating life. She should be used to it by now, but it never ceased to disappoint her. Even when she lacked investment in a guy and wasn’t interested in a relationship, it was still a tough pill to swallow.

  “We can talk about it another time,” she said. “I really have to go.”

  “Okay, yeah. I’ll call you,” he said.

  His tone was a little more reassuring this time and it helped restore her hopes a little. She gave his cheek a quick kiss and got out of the car.

  The third inning was just starting when Kate found her seat. She looked at the scoreboard and saw the Pioneers were up 2-0.

  At least something’s going right, she thought.

  Her gaze drifted to the players and then to the dugout. She wasn’t looking for Reid – or at least she told herself she wasn’t – but she found him anyway. He was perched on the top step, watching Ben Ramirez, their starting catcher who was currently in the batter’s box.

  Reid looked really good in his Pioneers uniform. Sure, he filled out jeans and suits just fine, but it couldn’t compare to how he looked in baseball pants, a jersey, and a cap. They seemed to be made for his body. She studied Reid for far longer than she should have, and she probably should have been studying Ben. His average had taken a bit of a dip this season, and she wondered if he was hurt or just needed some extra work with the hitting coach. Reid was probably wondering the same thing, but Kate couldn’t fully read his expression. He was focused on the batter, and he didn’t even flinch when Ben struck out two pitches later and punted his batting helmet into the dugout. Kate watched as Reid wrote a few things down in a little handheld notebook and then walked over to Ben, who was still fuming as he worked to put on his catching gear. He looked up as Reid spoke. He nodded a few times and actually smiled as Reid patted his shoulder and then went to high five Collin Elwood, who had just hit a two-run home run to give the Pioneers a 4-0 lead. The Pioneers’ dugout was celebrating, but Kate was still fixated on Reid and his conversation with the catcher. Ramirez was often described as being temperamental, which she had long ago decided was just man-speak for moody. When he was upset, he festered for a long time. She wondered what Reid had said to get Ben’s mood to shift so quickly.

  Her curiosity about the conversation lingered for the rest of the 7-1 victory. There was another home run and plenty of good pitching, but she was distracted by Reid and Ben’s interaction. Distracted enough that after the game, she headed down to the clubhouse to find Reid. It was the first time since March that she was actually seeking him out.

  Reid was surprised when one of the other coaches tapped him on the shoulder and said Kate was looking for him. He was in the middle of a talk with Ian Davis about his follow-through, but he quickly finished up with the infielder and went out into the hallway where Kate was waiting for him.

  “You might be good at this coaching thing,” she said as he approached.

  “Oh yeah? What makes you say that?”

  For a moment, he thought maybe she’d somehow gotten wind of the incident with Derek Beaman. He didn’t know how though. There’s no way Derek would have told her. Maybe someone on the hotel staff mentioned it. Maybe another one of the players overheard them and the word had made its way to her. As his brain was cycling through all the possibilities, she put his thoughts to rest.

  “I saw you talking to Ramirez after that ugly strikeout. He was on the verge of a full-on tantrum. Trust me, I’ve seen a few of them, so I know the signs,” she said. “But then you talked to him. He was smiling, and in his next at bat, he took a walk. What did you say to him?”

  “Nothing much, really. I just told him to relax a little.”

  “That’s it? Are you sure?”

  “I may have said something else, but it’s not appropriate for you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re a woman.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I try to be respectful about what I say in front of women. Trust me, you don’t want to hear what I said. As I said, it’s not appropriate.”

  “Oh. Well, whatever it was, it obviously worked. So, good job, Reid.”

  Reid smiled. She’d actually complimented him, with no hint of condescension and no room left to end to backhand him with an insult. It was pure prais
e, the first she’d offered him since he started this job. He wanted to gloat and ask if she’d finally come around on him. He wanted to grin with arrogance. He wanted to hug her. He even kind of wanted to kiss her.

  But he did none of that. He knew there was only one way to preserve civility.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. See you in Chicago.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Nice save last night,” Reid said to Derek as they sat down at Lou Malnati’s a few days later.

  They had debated the other Chicago pizza places – primarily Geno’s and Uno’s – but Derek said he heard Malnati’s was the best. Reid wasn’t about to argue with that selection. The pizza and the atmosphere, in his opinion, were superior to the other options.

  “Thanks,” Derek said, grinning. “That was pretty wild. I never thought I’d get a major league save.”

  “It was kind of an unusual situation,” Reid said.

  During their Monday night game with the White Sox, the Pioneers’ starting pitcher struggled out of the gate. He gave up five runs in the first inning, and Manager Don Carroll had to bring in a reliever by the third inning. The bullpen was already taxed from the series in Minnesota, so even though Portland was working on a slow rally, they were running out of serviceable arms.

  During the rally, the coach asked Derek if he could get three outs. He nodded and jogged out to the bullpen in the middle of the eighth inning. Reid had been nervous for the kid. Derek had just started the game on Saturday – the same day he found out about Keely’s engagement – and it hadn’t been a good outing. He was done after just four innings. On top of that, he hadn’t come out of the bullpen in years, and he’d never been in a save situation. Still, Derek showed no signs of doubt as he took the mound in the bottom of the ninth to protect a 9-7 lead.

  He started out kind of shaky, walking the first batter on five pitches. Reid watched Derek kick the dirt and circle the mound as the runner trotted to first. Derek looked around at the infielders. Ian Davis nodded at him as if to say, “you got this.” Derek sucked in a breath and settled back on the rubber, looking at Carson Slater, his catcher, who punched his mitt a few times and signaled for the pitch he wanted. Derek exhaled as he got set to deliver what Carson asked for. It was a called strike on the outside corner. It was perhaps a generous call, but Derek and the Pioneers would take the break. Four pitches later, the White Sox first baseman struck out, and Derek relaxed a little. It was just one out, but one out was better than none, especially with Chicago’s toughest offensive weapon stepping up to the plate. With one swing, he could tie the game.