Third Strike's the Charm

by Nicci Carrera

  Cara was struggling to take in this information, to put it together with what Jason had said about why he was so mad at her at the wedding. He’d said he had just found out he would never play baseball again, and that’s why he was so unreasonable and judgmental. Oh, she didn’t blame him so much for being angry, but a year later to explain it all and not mention he’d chosen not to return, irked. Her heart swelled with pride in what Jason sacrificed for his mom, but she was confused. Why would he tell her he couldn’t go back? Why didn’t he tell her the truth? Opportunities to come clean existed, especially since he wanted to get back together.

  Cara reassured Doc again she wouldn’t expose the secret. On the drive to GameCom, they didn’t talk much. She hugged him and reassured him once more before meeting up with Rick.

  She and Rick were both preoccupied on the drive home, thankfully, because Cara really wasn’t capable of small talk at the moment. Her mind was spinning even as her heart ached for Jason and Francie.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cara couldn’t deal with the fact Jason hadn’t told her the truth, not over the phone. She had to get her head around the reality he’d thrown his career out the window for Francie. Then there was the fact he made himself look bad by pretending he’d wasted all his money when in fact he’d spent a big chunk of it buying out his contract. Cara loved him all the more for his sacrifices. Yet maybe because she was so busy, she couldn’t reconcile him sitting in Francie’s living room telling her the reason he’d reacted so strongly at the wedding was because he’d just found out he couldn’t go back to baseball. Well, Francie was in the back room, so of course he couldn’t come out and say the truth, but then why not talk to her someplace else?

  Jason bought that she was too busy for phone calls. They texted and emailed instead. She kept her messages brief and concentrated on getting to Chicago. Once she was there, she would call him and sort it all out. She was lucky to find a place last minute with a friend from grad school named Tia who was renting a condo on the west side of the Lincoln Park neighborhood. Tia’s roommate took a three-month assignment in Japan and was only too happy to have Cara sublet her room.

  Cara learned to negotiate the commute to work. She wore sneakers with her business suit, packing her heels in her shoulder bag. Navigating the Metro and the elevated train, or “el,” as locals called it, took some wardrobe planning. Temperatures hit the eighties with high humidity. She relied on washable silk tank tops. When she took off her jacket, she could stay somewhat cool. As a bonus, she kept her jacket from wrinkling in transit.

  At work, they threw her into the deep end handing her the five clients of the employee who had the accident. Within a week, she’d learned the downtown area fairly well in the process of getting to clients’ offices. But the work wasn’t done after long days of meetings. She worked late into the night and relied heavily on Chicago deep-dish pizza for nutrition.

  Jason worried about her. She reassured him, warmed by his sweetness. She even took his advice and parted with the cash for a taxi home when she worked late, which was pretty much every night.

  Her goal was to use the money from her first paycheck to fly home to Lobster Cove and talk to Jason in person. Things weren’t quite that simple though. Living expenses were high. Plus she started making payments to Maya with her first paycheck. Maya said she didn’t have to right away, but Cara insisted. All her life, Maya had sacrificed to help the family. So Cara worked through another paycheck.

  Tia was nice. On weekends, Cara sometimes had a chance to share a meal with her or go out. “I can’t believe you’re dating that totally gorgeous hunk of a baseball player, Jason Ward,” Tia said one night.

  “Former baseball player,” Cara reminded her, wrestling with the fresh reminder of the magnitude of what Jason had given up.

  “Call it what you will,” Tia said, before taking a sip of wine. “He’s a hunk. So, how is the relationship going?”

  “Not bad for a long-distance relationship.” Cara took a sip of brown ale.

  Tia smiled and ran her hands fingers through her stylishly short highlighted brown hair. “Sounds like you need a visit.”

  “I’m scraping together my pennies, so I can go visit him.”

  “No fair. I want to meet him.”

  Cara laughed. “What about Evan?”

  Tia giggled. “Oh yeah.”

  “Talk about a hunk. He’s gorgeous.” Evan was a good-looking guy, about six foot two, blond, an avid runner, and smitten by Tia.

  “Do you want to borrow some money to go home?”

  “I already borrowed about six years of my life! I don’t think I can afford to go more into debt, but thank you.” Cara wished she could go because keeping her communication with Jason short and brief had turned into a habit. When she finally did call him, their conversations were awkward. She ended up talking about her job, the last thing on her mind. He talked about his job, which warmed her. He was enjoying the catering. Francie was doing pretty well, but Jason was struggling with how to get her additional therapy and dreading the day she had her next panic attack.

  In one of their phone calls, Cara said, “I’ve done some research and there are some psychologists in Bar Harbor and Trenton, but none who specialize in Francie’s condition, unfortunately. And I didn’t have any luck finding someone who could work with her on a therapeutic level for strengthening the muscles needed for breathing.”

  Jason was quiet for a moment, then said, “Thanks for doing that, Cara. I’ve come to the same conclusion. I’m worried we might need to move to Boston.”

  His words were wrenching. Circumstances were pulling them further apart. She took a breath. She was being selfish. Jason needed to go wherever necessary for his mom’s care. What if they were gone by the time she scraped money together to visit? Panic twisted her stomach. Should she invite him here to this tiny apartment? No. Somehow, she just needed to be on home turf when she had this conversation with Jason.

  Maybe she could offer some hope. “You know I’m still working on that other idea about the assisted living homes. I’m starting to get some traction with understanding what would be involved. My network is, unfortunately, mostly in Berkeley and Chicago, but I’m going to start making calls to people. We would want more specialists in physical therapy and gerontology to come and work at the hospital in Lobster Cove. So I’m working my contacts to see if we can tempt any of them to locate their practices. I know it’s a long shot. If I had the money raised already, enticing talent would be easier.”

  “Don’t worry, Cara. You don’t have to solve this. It’s not your problem.” Jason’s voice was resigned.

  “I want to, Jason. Hang in there.” Her words felt empty. She didn’t know why. Maybe because they sounded like she was trying to be “just a friend.” Maybe because he always insisted his and Francie’s problems weren’t hers. Why was he distancing himself and his family from her yet again? Did he not believe in her and him anymore? Or was it the effect of having a long-distance relationship? Everybody knew the challenges of staying close when geographically remote.

  Too tired to think any more, Cara fell into bed. The next day, and the next day, and the next day, she went to work. Even weekends were a blur of trying to catch up at the office and fit in a bit of social time with Tia and her friends. Jason and her life in Lobster Cove fell further and further away.

  ****

  When Cara’s alarm went off, she didn’t know where she was. Light came in around the edges of taupe curtains. Her bedspread was hand-me-down brown. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. When she opened them again, she remembered she was subletting a room and living in Chicago. What in the world was she doing here? She sat up and checked the phone, which had been muted while she slept. A text message. A smile entered her heart. She tapped the icon. Jason. Then her heart really tripped over itself.

  If I send you a ticket to come home for the Fourth of July, would you get on the plane?

  Y—That’s all she had to do because the softwar
e on the phone finished the word: Yes.

  Cara pressed Send.

  ****

  Jason was waiting in the beautiful Hancock County-Bar Harbor Airport. Seeing his tall muscular build and that wayward and growing-longer-by-the-day hair stole Cara’s breath. A moment later, her stomach knotted. She was going to have to confront him about his “strikes.”

  His stride ate the distance. His arms circled her with powerful strength, and his kisses were a scattering over the top of her head. Jason held her away far enough to look deeply into her eyes before he planted a greedy kiss on her mouth.

  “Welcome home, Cara.”

  Breathless, she managed, “Thank you.”

  Jason took hold of her bag and pulled it with one hand while he looped his arm around her shoulder, guiding her to his truck in the short-term parking lot.

  Cadillac Mountain towered in the distance, beckoning. As they neared Thompson Island, she pressed the button to lower the window and breathed in the air, her eyes feasting on the rugged unpopulated scenery.

  “Can we stop here? For a moment?”

  He glanced at her. “Okay.” They exited, headed down to the information center, and parked.

  Pulling the handle to the door, she said, “Let’s go for a walk.” She put on her sunglasses and jumped out.

  Jason joined her, taking hold of her hand. They ambled down to the picnic area where grass gleamed in the bright light of high noon. A family enjoying lunch occupied the tables, so Jason and Cara made their way down to a private spot between two tall trees where water trickled amid black rocks trimmed in moss green.

  Looking out to sea, Cara said, “While I was in California, I went down to the South Bay to have lunch with Blanca.”

  “How is she doing?”

  “She’s too busy. The company appears to be in some sort of crisis, but she’s okay.”

  “Sorry to hear about the crisis, but I’m glad she’s okay.”

  Cara tipped her head to look up at him. “Afterward, I paid a visit to Doc.” She felt Jason’s body tighten through the hand she was holding. His jaw muscles tensed and released. Behind the glasses, his eyes were focused on the horizon.

  “Doc Olson?” His voice was tense. He studied her through his dark glasses.

  “Yes.”

  “How is he?”

  “Fine.”

  “Cara, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Okay…” Maybe she wouldn’t have to come straight out and say Doc had betrayed his trust by telling her his secret. The waves sloshed rhythmically. Briny air she could almost taste grounded her, slowed her pulse, eased her stomach. She was wise to do this here at home instead of over the phone.

  “I got better. But I didn’t go back to baseball.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because of Mom. I kind of…lied.” He looked back out to sea, his jaw muscles working. “I told the owner and the insurance company. Also Coach and my agent. I asked them to keep it quiet though. I didn’t want Mom to know I quit so I could stay and take care of her.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “The summer we were dating, Mom’s muscles weakened. She needed the wheelchair a lot more.”

  “I remember. We didn’t talk about it though.”

  “I was still hoping to get back to the game, and I was fighting…Everything. Fighting the growing realization Mom would need more help even as I was working to recuperate. Between physical therapy and working at the food truck, I was busy enough not to have to think. I guess I should have been thinking about things and talking to you, but I didn’t.” The sunlight glinted off Jason’s sunglasses.

  “I remember that, too. I didn’t know what you were avoiding talking about, but there was…I don’t know. We kind of were dating, but there was just no spark in you, Jason. You wouldn’t let me in.” Her voice hitched on the last words.

  “I know.” He took a deep breath. “All the stuff I was denying came to a boiling point when my pitching speed hit 90 miles an hour during a training session. During the next training session, Coach was there. I didn’t top 60. He asked what was going on. I told him I couldn’t come back.” He explained what she already knew about devising the story with Doc.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her words came out soft and low. Had he heard her over the sloshing waves?

  “It was right before the wedding. You were busy with your sisters and your mom…and everything. I was going to tell you after the wedding. I was kind of torn up about it. I still have to admit I wasn’t exactly happy about not going back to the game. I was also pretty torn up about Mom. But I couldn’t let her down. Not after Dad did.” He jerked his gaze back to the horizon.

  What he went through tore at her, too. But she had to address her own feelings. Now was the time. “But, Jason…you told me the reason you were so harsh with me at the wedding was because you’d just found out you couldn’t go back to baseball. You didn’t tell me you had chosen not to go back to baseball.”

  He gave a slight nod. “I—wasn’t ready to take that risk. You’re so close to Mom…”

  It was a fair judgment, especially right when she was first back for the summer and seeking to hang out with Francie while avoiding Jason. But how much had things changed? Was theirs the primary relationship now, the way it needed to be? “I understand, but it worries me. I’m not saying our communication issues are all your fault. But here we were making a fresh start and beginning with a lie. More drawbacks to my best friend being my boyfriend’s mom.”

  “It’s confusing. But I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  She nodded, reassured. Maybe it was time to put that concern to rest. But there were more concerns to take its place. “You also didn’t blow your money.”

  “Oh. Well, yeah. No. I mean, I did waste money on stupid stuff. When you have a lot all of a sudden it’s so easy to take it for granted like it will always be there, you know?”

  “No.”

  He cocked his head. “Oh. Well, think about lottery winners.”

  “That’s true. It’s really common for lottery winners to end up broke.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you didn’t do that. You set aside money for your mom, and you had enough to buy out your contract, too.”

  “Doc really filled you in, didn’t he?”

  “Aw, don’t blame him. I really pressed. We’re practically family too. I don’t think he’ll tell anyone else.”

  “Fortunately no one will think to ask him.”

  “Well there are others who know.”

  “It could leak. I live in fear of that.”

  “It wouldn’t be the end of the world. It’s not like you did something wrong. Gee, if you think about the skeletons in some people’s closets.”

  He chuckled. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “You weren’t going to tell me about the money either, were you?”

  “Well, I didn’t see the point.”

  “That’s just it, Jason. There are so many secrets. We can’t have secrets like that between us.”

  “I know. I don’t want to have secrets from you any more, Cara.”

  “It’s a pattern between us. I just don’t know—” At his stricken expression, Cara couldn’t bring herself to voice her concern that they would never be able to form a true couple. “Thank you for telling me now, Jason. Let’s talk about this later. It’s been a long day.”

  On the ride home, Cara stared out the side window, using her right thumb to brush away tears so Jason wouldn’t see the gesture. He had given up so much for his mom. She loved him for it. But he hadn’t confided in her, even as they were trying to rebuild their relationship. She had kept secrets from him as well but not really important ones. Nonetheless a pattern of lies seemed to underlie their relationship. Funny their loyalty to the same person kept them from forming a unit.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Jason pulled to a stop in front of Mama’s house, the silence between them had grown beyond awkwar
d, acquiring the heaviness of swimming underwater in the deep end. Once she had control of her emotions, she planned to say something reassuring to him, that she understood, but she had already said that. She never did get control of her feelings, but she spoke anyway. “Jason, I’m sorry. I’m so tired, and probably overthinking things.”

  He turned to her, looking so cool with his sunglasses and strong jaw. “You don’t believe in us anymore. It’s been that way for a while. I can’t say I blame you.”

  “This isn’t about blame. I understand, Jason. I really do.”

  “I just—the timing wasn’t right when you first came home, and then I thought I had all summer with you. I’m sorry you found out from Doc.”

  “It was an accident.”

  “It’s okay. He’s a great friend. And you’re like family. I don’t blame him. I’m just really sorry, that’s all.”

  “I know.” She patted his arm. The hair was silky and his skin warm to the touch. She longed to close her fingers over his muscular forearm and hang on.

  He pulled away and came around to open the passenger door, but Cara was already out, her sneakers firmly on home soil. Was this still home? She might crawl back to her job in Chicago and be grateful to have it, happy to sleep in a borrowed room, relieved to be too busy to think about Jason or Lobster Cove.

  Jason grabbed her suitcase from the back of the pickup and carried it up the steps. He set it on the deck so carefully the wheels connected with the wood planks without a sound. He looked her in the eye. “I’m sorry, Cara. Please enjoy your weekend, and don’t let this ruin it.”

  The door to the screened deck whooshed gently, thanks to the controlled door closer he’d installed when they were upgrading the house for vacation rental. She owed Jason…lots of things, but she didn’t have anything to offer at the moment. Her heart ached, and her brain wasn’t functioning.

  Opening the front door blasted away any doubts about where was home. Mariachi music played softly on Mama’s kitchen radio. The fragrances of cooking onion, coriander, and chocolate wafted to Cara’s senses while hot peppers tickled her nose. Mama, wearing a colorfully embroidered apron, danced between the frying pan and the cutting board. Her white smile flashed bright against her warm bronze skin tones. “Welcome home, Cara!”