by Pamela Aares
“I can’t do it, Donovan. I just can’t.” She backed away a step. “I won’t.”
“Do what?” He’d never been so out of his depth.
She opened her eyes, stared into his. “Be an oodle. It’s not in my repertoire.”
She kept staring until Scotty felt she was searching his soul the way philosophers searched the stars, hoping to understand but guessing they never would, guessing that what was foreign and unfathomable would remain so forever.
Then she smiled at him, just a lifting of her lips. But before he could speak, she pulled her hand free and thrust both hands out in front of her, a clear sign any ballplayer understood. “I want it all. The memories and the dreams, Scotty.” And then she turned and walked up the stairs, head high, not once looking back.
Scotty stood watching until she disappeared, ignoring Laurie and paying no mind to Smokey nudging at his legs.
He wanted the memories and the dreams too, wanted everything that had brought them to this moment as well as a long, long future with Chloe.
He squatted down to rub Smokey.
“We’re not out yet, boy.”
Whatever an oodle was, he was going to move heaven and earth to overcome it.
Chapter Twenty-nine
This, my friend, requires a full court press,” Alex said as he tossed back a swig of whiskey. “Nothing else will do. This screw-up requires that you do it by the book.”
Alex must’ve seen the puzzled look in Scotty’s face. He pulled an envelope off a stack of mail on his coffee table and began writing on the back of it.
“Basically, if you want to win Chloe back, you have to do everything you’ve always imagined was hokey and unnecessary. I’ll make a list.” He scribbled on the envelope. “The first step you have covered in spades.”
“And that would be?”
“Make her jealous.” He made an exaggerated check mark on the first line and then grinned up at Scotty. “Check.”
Scotty wasn’t having nearly as much fun with this as Alex was. But the man knew women; he’d give him that. And neither the fact that Chloe was rich nor that she owned a baseball team fazed Alex. He’d grown up in a castle, he reminded Scotty. He’d argued that it was just walls and bathrooms and kitchens and the like. What mattered was what you did in the places you lived and who you did them with.
“Okay,” Scotty said, giving in. “So how about step two?”
Scotty knew that step two was going to be even more painful than step one had been.
Scotty ran the last of his wind sprints in the outfield. But his attention was on Max, the teenager he mentored.
He watched as Max made his way to where Chloe sat in the stands. Jackie was in the seat beside her and Chloe’s friend, Brigitte, sat on her other side. Max settled into the empty seat next to Brigitte and shot Scotty a subtle thumbs-up. Scotty could feel Max’s excitement all the way in the outfield. Max had been thrilled to come to the game and honored to have a mission. But Scotty still thought that having him deliver the note to Chloe after the game was over the top. Scotty had protested the plan, but Alex had insisted it was perfect.
Just last week he’d nearly caved, had nearly called Chloe after their road trip, but Alex had cautioned him not to. Trust me, Alex had said—he’d won Jackie, hadn’t he? Scotty couldn’t argue with that. Then Scotty shot a glance to Jackie when it occurred to him that he’d never heard the full story of how Alex had won her. He should’ve asked.
Scotty walked off the field feeling ridiculous. Caveman days, when all a guy had to do was fling a woman over his shoulder and carry her off, were sounding pretty good to him.
But this was Chloe McNalley. She wasn’t the type to appreciate the desperation of such a move.
Scotty showered and changed into his game jersey, but going through the motions didn’t dissolve the dread that gnawed at his gut. His teammates chatted around him as they prepared for another game. Business as usual. For them.
He walked out onto the field and threw a few warm-up pitches to Aderro, his catcher. His arm was loose, his body felt good. He glanced over Aderro’s shoulder. He hadn’t counted on seeing his mother, father and G’maw walking to seats behind home plate. Alex must’ve sprung for tickets. G’maw waved at him, and he tipped his head. She scowled. Maybe she’d expected a wave, but he was on the mound, for jeez’ sake.
But he had to admit—it felt good to have his family in the stands. If the plan failed, at least he’d have allies to fall back on.
He scowled up at the scoreboard. That part of the plan was really, really hokey. Not to mention it’d cost him a huge wad of cash. And it might backfire—Chloe hadn’t wanted to flaunt their relationship. But that was when she owned him. The field was level now. At least he hoped it was.
It was all Scotty could do to keep his pitching sequences in his mind. He knew the Rockies’ hitters, had kept himself from going out of his mind the past few days by obsessively memorizing minute details on every single one of them.
In the top of the seventh, the Rockies got two hits off him. When they brought up their left-handed slugger, Walsh yanked Scotty from the game. It made sense to bring in Torres to throw against a powerful lefty, but it jangled Scotty’s already-raw nerves.
He sat on the bench, and the fist in his gut tightened with every throw. He ran the scenarios of the plan he’d crafted with Alex, deciding he shouldn’t have gone along with it. It’d made sense over beers in Alex’s living room, but now that it was unfolding, the whole thing seemed absurd.
Torres got them out of the inning, and Scotty relaxed. The runs would’ve been his if the guys he’d let reach base crossed the plate, so he owed Torres a beer. But as his teammates ran off the field and began crowding into the dugout, he couldn’t swallow down his rising agitation.
Alex grabbed a bat, shot Scotty an okay sign and headed up to the on-deck circle.
Scotty shook his head. Nothing was okay. Having his future depend on a scoreboard message and a note passed to Chloe from a kid she didn’t know made absolutely no sense. She was more important than that.
They were more important than that.
He flew off the bench and ran up the dugout steps. He grabbed hold of the rail and leaped over the fence, charging past gawking fans singing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” and ran into the stands. He kneed his way past a very surprised-looking Jackie, grabbed Chloe by the arms, stood her on her feet and pulled her into the aisle. In a flash the whole stadium was calling kiss, kiss, kiss. Scotty leaned down to an elderly couple sitting in row beside where he stood with Chloe and whispered to them. They laughed and embraced and the camera framed their kiss. Scotty took advantage of the diversion and threw Chloe over his shoulder. She wriggled against him and said something in protest, but he held firm. He was in no mood to stop and discuss anything. The noise from the crowd told him the stadium cameras once again had him and Chloe in their sights. If they wanted color, they had it, but not for long. He charged down the stairs past a laughing security guard and into the tunnel that led to the clubhouse.
Once inside, he set Chloe on her feet. She teetered and leaned against the wall.
“I suppose this is your way of making me trust you?” she said as she thrust her hands to her hips.
“Nope. This is my way of making you marry me.”
Before she could say anything to deter him, he dropped to a knee and took off his cap.
“Chloe McNalley, I love you. Marry me.”
It hadn’t come out as romantically as he’d practiced, not even close. But he couldn’t believe it when she just stared down at him. Maybe Jackie had read Chloe wrong. Maybe everybody had been wrong. Maybe he’d been wrong.
“No oodles, just you, Chloe. Just us forever.”
Her eyes widened.
“You’re supposed to say something.” He put his cap back on and stood, scanning her face.
“I’m thinking,” she said.
“No, don’t think. Do not think.” He pulled her to him and crushed
her lips with his. She pressed her palms to his chest and pushed him back with a light laugh.
“Don’t you want to hear my answer?”
“Not really. I’d rather do this.” He pulled her to him, backed her against the wall and smothered her lips in a kiss.
“Ahem.”
Chloe wriggled out of Scotty’s arms. They turned to face Joe Rafelli, the Giants’ GM.
“Do I detect a lady in distress?”
The look on Joe’s face would’ve been comical in any other situation.
“No, Joe,” Chloe said with a wink. “You detect a woman who’s just decided to marry one of your players.”
Scotty saw worry creep into Joe’s puzzled smile as he looked from her to Scotty and then back to her.
“He’s not going back to the Sabers,” Joe said, wagging a finger at her.
“You bet he isn’t,” Chloe said with a laugh.
A roar from the crowd shocked through the tunnel. Scotty felt heat rise to his face. “Uh, Chloe? That’d be my message to you on the scoreboard.” He ran a hand through his hair and shot a grin to Joe. “You already know what it says.”
“You didn’t!” Chloe said, punching his arm.
“No fair attacking my players.” Joe waved his hands in mock alarm, though he smiled.
“You can take it out on Alex,” Scotty said, sliding his arm around Chloe’s waist and tugging her close. “All his idea. Too bad I couldn’t wait that long.”
Epilogue
Sun slanted through the garden surrounding the reflecting pool at Woodlands. Chloe ducked through the hedge at the end of it and slipped into the rose garden. Vibrant reds and golds painted the surrounding trees with color, and late fall blooms scented the air. Though she’d come out for a quiet moment, she could still hear the sounds of laughter and the orchestra playing under the tent up near the house. Woodlands felt alive. She felt alive.
Scotty’s entire family had come out for their wedding. G’maw had already tried the patience of Agostin, Chloe’s gardener, with her questions and quirky suggestions about what she thought he should plant and where. But as Chloe had watched the two of them scrapping over the past few days, she was pretty sure that secretly he liked having the feisty old lady around.
Scotty’s parents, Meg and Sam, along with his sister Dara, had sat in on the lecture she’d given at Stanford earlier in the week. It felt good to be teaching again, even if it was just a guest lecture here and there. Maybe when she hired a new general manager she’d have even more time for teaching. But she wasn’t ready to let go of George Ellis, not quite yet. He was one of the last ties she had to her dad.
Her dad.
He would’ve been happy to see her surrounded by friends and family, and she was pretty sure he might’ve approved of Scotty. One thing she knew for sure was that he would’ve been happy to know that she no longer felt the deep loneliness that had haunted her since his death.
The wide skirt of her wedding dress caught on a thorn and she bent to release it. Brigitte had helped her find the perfect dress and plan the myriad details of the wedding and party. She’d cried when Chloe had asked her to be her maid of honor. Chloe had been lucky to have her help. Wedding planning made running a baseball team seem like child’s play. To Chloe’s surprise, Brigitte had shown up with Royce Berenson as her wedding date. Chloe had introduced them on a whim and it turned out that Brigitte had an interest in cosmology after all—particularly if the lessons came from a handsome Brit.
Scotty had invited the boys from the Big Brothers program, not just Max but all those sponsored by the players. Agostin had set up archery targets in the field west of the house, saying boys needed something challenging to put their energies into and that chatting with wedding guests wouldn’t cut it. Though she was wary, she hadn’t argued. She could only hope he’d be as watchful as he’d promised.
Jackie and Alex had driven down from Sonoma and were staying with them at Woodlands for a few days. Chloe loved seeing Alex and Scotty together, and Jackie was more than the sister she’d always wanted—she was a peer, a colleague, someone Chloe could romp with and yet also talk science to.
Sabrina, Alex’s sister, had come with them. Her charm and good advice had helped Chloe calm her nerves when Scotty’s family descended on Woodlands. Sabrina had guts. She’d risen to stardom in a matter of months when the indie film she’d had a lead role in became a box office hit. No one could ever be ready for the onslaught of public attention and the harassment of paparazzi that Sabrina described, but Sabrina had handled it well. She’d left her bodyguard down with the drivers and appeared to be enjoying the day.
Chloe had even invited Alex’s cousin Alana. Alana had cooked up a bridal shower with Sabrina and hosted it at Alex’s castle in Sonoma. It was there, sitting in a tent in the courtyard, that Chloe had realized that Alana, too, had to face finding her way. Though she seemed confident, over the past few months Chloe had come to see that like many of Chloe’s wealthy school chums, Alana was a bit lost, untethered, as if she hadn’t yet found a life purpose to anchor her. Chloe had grown to like Alana, so maybe they’d even become friends. Besides, if Alana hadn’t made Chloe jealous that day at the Sabers picnic . . . Well, who knew how events would’ve played out?
She grasped the lace of her dress, but the thorn had caught in its intricate layers and held firm. Using both hands she untangled the lace and pulled it free, happy to see that neither the rose nor the skirt was any worse for the encounter. At the sound of footsteps on the gravel path, Chloe turned, pulling herself back from her thoughts.
“Married less than an hour and already fleeing?” Mike Thomas chuckled as he walked along the rose-lined path toward her.
“Married less than an hour and still amazed.”
She leaned down to the rose that had snagged her gown and inhaled its vanilla-laced scent. “It’s called Celestial. My dad bought this rose for my mother. I remember the day they planted it.”
“She’d be happy for you, Chloe.”
Chloe reached her hand to him. He folded it in his.
“I wouldn’t be here without your help.” She felt the tears welling, not for the first time today.
“I’m not so sure about that.” He tugged his hand away and scraped it through his hair. “There’s something I need to give you. In the library. Mind if I take you away from your party for a few minutes?”
She followed him up to the house. He knew the place nearly as well as she did and took the back path that led away from the wedding guests and around to the back doors of the library.
But he didn’t stop in the library. He motioned her through the passage that led to her dad’s study. She’d become more comfortable going in there and had moved in a few personal items of her own. Yet as they walked toward her dad’s desk and she saw the wooden box sitting on it, returned to its usual place, a shiver rippled through her. Maybe she wasn’t as comfortable as she’d thought.
“You brought it back.” She fingered the polished box and noticed that the small gold padlock hung open.
“It’s time you opened it. I promised your father.”
“So cryptic,” she said as she lifted the lid. “I’d never have pegged you as one for such mystery.”
Nestled in the velvet lining was a single folded piece of paper. A chill prickled along the nape of Chloe’s neck as she unfolded it. When she saw her father’s familiar script, tears pooled and she blinked them away so she could read the words that rambled down the page.
Dear Spitfire,
I’ll keep this short, as I know if you’re reading this that Mike has dragged you from your handsome groom. I wouldn’t want to keep him or your guests waiting.
The quiver in her stomach fought with the humming delight of his words. It was as though she held a piece of him in her hands. Snatches of memories darted lightning fast into her mind, and suddenly she guessed that the events of the past months hadn’t unfolded quite as she’d thought.
You may remember that over the ye
ars we talked about intuition, about how one often knows things far beyond what can be observed. You have that gift, Chloe. Your mother did too. And I hope you’ll forgive that I acted on what bit of that gift the universe allocated to me.
When I saw you laughing and dancing with Scotty Donovan, I knew he was the man for you.
I was ill and couldn’t orchestrate things as I might’ve liked and I knew you’d balk at any blatant attempt on my part to encourage you to give the boy a chance. So I bought him for the Sabers and left you the team.
I knew the two of you would work the rest of it out. I can only hope that the ride wasn’t too rough.
She pressed her hand to her mouth, holding back a laugh, biting back a sob. She didn’t know which was more determined to get out. Trust her dad to go with understatement.
Knowing that you’d have a good man to share your life allowed me to go in peace. I hope you’ll forgive an old man his last indulgence. Even if you can’t, at least I know you are happy. It’s a cliché to say life is short, I know. But it’s true. Savor every moment and savor each other. There are some gifts that we can only humbly accept, living our lives in such a way afterward to deserve them.
Give my best wishes to Scotty.
My love is with you always,
Dad
Chloe reached a hand to the table to steady her wobbly legs. Tears fell, loosening the knot of sadness that had held her since his death. That he had little right to do what he did hardly mattered. Maybe there was some special dispensation for parents when it came to the well-being of their children.
“Hey!” Scotty shouted as he rushed into the library. “I’ve covered about three miles in this place looking for you. They want us to”—she turned to him, and he slowed when he saw her tears—“to cut the cake,” he stammered. He crossed to her and folded her in his arms.
“What’ve you done to my wife, Mike?” he said over the top of her head.