Lucy laughed as she put the kettle on the burner. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“But the book didn’t really bum me out that much,” he said. “I need to tell you something else.”
Lucy came back to the table and sat down across from him. “Okay.”
“It’s just, you’ve been really great, helping me like this,” he said. “Everybody in my life, like you said, they act like they care about me, but it’s because I can hit or throw a ball. With you, it almost feels like…” His face flushed red, and he looked down, embarrassed. He got up from the table and grabbed his jacket. “Sorry,” he said. “I gotta go.”
“Wait,” Lucy said, stepping in front of him. “Tell me. Something’s on your mind.”
“They’re sending me back up,” he said.
“Oh,” Lucy said. She didn’t know how to feel about that. She knew how she should feel, but it wasn’t at all how she really felt. Her heart sank.
“I guess what I was trying to say was that, you’re the first person in a long time to treat me like a real person,” Bo said. He waved at the book on the table. “All this. Helping me. I just don’t know how I could ever return the favor.”
Lucy stepped closer to him. She put her hand on his chest, felt his heart beating under her palm. She brought her face close to his, her lips close to his.
“I have a few ideas,” she said. She closed her eyes and kissed him, feeling the stubble on his face. He kissed her back, slow and strong, finally putting his arms around her.
The kettle began to whistle loudly. Lucy pulled back from him, feeling out of breath.
“Uh, you still want tea?” she whispered.
He shook his head, and this time it was his turn to lean in and kiss her.
Lucy walked over to turn the burner off, then walked back, took Bo by the hand, and led him to her bedroom.
9
Lucy woke to the sunlight peeking through her blinds. She blinked and was momentarily startled when she saw a hand on the comforter on top of her. She was so used to sleeping alone. He lay asleep next to her, his dark hair tousled. And then she remembered.
The sex had been amazing, better by far than any in her life. His body was all muscle, taut and lean. She almost felt like she was having sex with a marble statue come to life. And again he had surprised her with a gentle, giving demeanor. She thought he might have been the kind to be rough in bed, or overenthusiastic. She might not have actually minded that. But he had taken his time, caressing her slowly, kissing her gently all over her body. And that was pretty nice, too.
His eyes opened, then squinted at the light. “Hey,” he said.
“Good morning,” she said.
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Lucy said. “You want some coffee?”
“Sounds great,” Bo said. “Mind if I use your shower?”
“Go right ahead,” she said.
He sat up, then leaned in and gave her a soft little kiss. He smiled, then climbed out of bed naked and padded to the shower, his tight bare buns barely jiggling as he walked.
I could get used to this, Lucy thought, before remembering what he had said. They were sending him back up. As she got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, she wondered how it would work out. She certainly didn’t feel like just another conquest of his, but maybe she was being silly. Better just take it for what it was, a beautiful night. They weren’t meant to be together. Or were they?
She measured out tiny plastic cupfuls of coffee and imagined moving to Houston. It was a big place. She could find a job there, for sure, maybe even with his team. Then she realized just how horrible an idea that was. This whole time, she hadn’t slept with any players because she wanted to be professional. How would it look if she got a job at the major league level, and it came out she was sleeping with Bo? And she hoped it was more than just sex.
She smiled and hummed to herself as she heard the shower go on.
10
Bo put his head under the stream of hot water. It felt great. He felt great.
Last night had been incredible. He’d been with a lot of women, but it had always felt recreational, like playing a video game or riding a motorcycle. With Lucy, everything was different. She wasn’t just beautiful, though she was that. She was kind. She was smart. And she’d connected with him in a way he didn’t even know was possible. He realized he’d probably never been in love, and thought this was probably what it felt like.
Now he felt bad for making a fool of himself the very first time they’d met, and about the stupid bet. He’d won, technically, but that didn’t matter anymore. He wouldn’t even tell Scully about tonight. In fact, the first thing he was going to do when he got the clubhouse this afternoon was tell Scully the bet was off.
And then what? He’d never felt this way about anybody before, so he wasn’t sure what to do next. Asking her to follow him to Houston just seemed arrogant.
He looked around the shower at the array of bottles. He finally found the shampoo and began to lather up his head. Maybe for once in his life he’d just be honest, tell her how he felt, and go from there.
11
Lucy poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table. She sat in her favorite blue robe, taking little sips. She felt like the smile on her face might never come off.
The phone on the table gave a little burble, an electronic notification that she had a new message.
She picked it up and swiped the message open before realizing it wasn’t her phone.
What she read there made her heart stop. She almost dropped her coffee.
Scully: Hey man. You seal the deal with Lucy last night? That was your last chance. You owe me a grand. I’ll take it in twenties.
What the hell was this? Her hands started shaking, and she put the coffee down slowly. She felt sick. How could she have been so stupid? Of course this was all some stupid game.
She heard the shower cut off and the bathroom door open.
“Hey,” Bo said from a crack in the door. “You got a towel I could use?”
Just a few minutes ago that voice would have made her heart flutter. Now it made tears of humiliation and anger stand out in her eyes. She stood up and stormed to the bathroom, picking up his clothes from the floor as she went, a breadcrumb trail of their ecstasy last night, and now just a horrible reminder of what a piece of garbage he was.
Bo smiled at her through the crack in the door, his face and hair wet. She threw his clothes at him.
“Hey,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Congratulations, Bo. You won.” She reached out with his phone.
He reached out and took the phone, reading Scully’s message. “No, Lucy,” he said. “This is…it isn’t—”
“—what I think?” she finished for him. “You know what? I really don’t want to hear whatever lie you’re about to make up right now. I just want you out of my house.”
Tears welled up in his eyes. If he was acting, he was doing a great job. She almost felt sorry for him, but then realized he was probably just upset about being caught. At least he had the decency to be ashamed, but that wasn’t even close to good enough.
“Did you hear me?” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks now. “I’m going in my bedroom. You have three minutes to get the hell out of here, then I’m calling the police.”
“Lucy,” Bo said, his voice cracking. “Wait.”
But she didn’t, turning and walking down the hall, slamming the bedroom door behind her.
12
They sent Bo up the next day, and the day after that, Lucy turned in her resignation with the Mustangs.
She was packing up her things in the clubhouse when someone gave a light knock on the door. She turned to see Scully, standing in the doorway with that flat, slightly bent nose of his, looking like a sad puppy.
He walked to her, wringing his glove in his hands. “Hey, Lucy,” he said. “I just wanted to say—”
She sla
pped him across the face. “No,” she said. “You don’t get to apologize. I’m tired of hearing men make excuses for their disgusting behavior.”
He nodded and looked at the ground. “That’s fair,” he said.
The slap didn’t seem to have fazed him, but the right side of his face was already welling up red. Lucy didn’t mean to hit him that hard. It just came out.
“I know it probably don’t mean much,” he said. “But I wish you luck, wherever you end up.”
She didn’t respond, just stood there staring at him with tears in her eyes.
Scully glanced up at her one more time, then slunk out of the room.
Lucy turned back to the cardboard box and looked in. A Mustang’s coffee mug, some pens and notebooks, a box of rubber bands. She wanted to just break down into another crying jag, but she wasn’t sure she had any tears left.
Another knock came at the door.
“I told you to go a—”
Jackie stood in the doorway, her hair up in a ponytail, wearing the Mustang’s jersey. She held the a foil-wrapped hotdog and waved it at Lucy. “One for the road?”
Lucy broke into a smile and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “It’s eight in the morning.”
“Breakfast of champions,” Jackie said.
“Sorry, I’m not hungry.”
Jackie stepped into the room. “How ‘bout a hug instead?”
“That sounds pretty good,” Lucy said.
They hugged each other, and Lucy put face on Jackie’s shoulder and began to cry.
“Dammit,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jackie said, putting her hand on the back of Lucy’s head. “I’ve got like ten of these jerseys.”
Once she’d had a good cry, Lucy lifted her head and took a step back. She grabbed a towel off a nearby stack and wiped her face, then blew her nose into it.
“What’re you gonna do now?” Jackie asked.
“There are lots of physical therapy jobs,” Lucy said. “Maybe I’ll do rehab with the elderly. At least something like this is unlikely to happen again.”
“You never know,” Jackie said. Then they both laughed.
“Ma’am?” a deep voice came from the doorway.
Jackie and Lucy both looked up to see a huge man dressed in a black suit filling the doorway. He held a white envelope in his hands.
“Are you Lucy McAllister?”
“Yes,” Lucy said.
The man stepped forward and extended the envelope toward her. She reached out, almost taking it, then withdrew her hand.
“It’s from him, isn’t it?” Lucy said. “Get out of here. Tell him he knows where to put that.” She pointed at the envelope. “And if he keeps harassing me, I’ll call the cops.”
The man stood like a statue, the envelope still extended.
“Get out!” Lucy yelled.
Again, the man didn’t move.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Jackie said. She snatched the envelope out of the man’s hand and stepped back, ripping it open.
“That’s for Miss McAllister,” the man said.
“Jackie, please,” Lucy said. “Just throw it in the trash.”
Jackie scanned it, then put her hand to her mouth. “You’re gonna want to read this,” she said to Lucy. She held the letter out to her.
Lucy sighed and took the piece of paper.
The writing was like that of a child, scrawling and messy.
Dear Lucy,
I’m stupid. I thought I had everything. I was wrong.
You don’t want to hear I’m sorry, so I won’t say it.
I don’t deserve anything, but I hope you will do just one more thing.
Marcus has a car outside. We have a game at one o’clock. He has a ticket for you. Please come.
You helped me. That was real.
That night together. That was real.
Please come.
Bo
Lucy found herself crying again by the time she finished the letter. He must have had someone help him write it, and that must have been hard. She wanted to hate him, to have nothing more to do with him. But in spite of herself, she wanted to see him again, if only one last time. She knew she was being foolish, but couldn’t help it.
“This game,” she said. “It’s in Houston?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the man named Marcus said.
Lucy looked at Jackie. “Can I bring a friend?”
Jackie smiled.
“Yes, ma’am,” Marcus said. “That would be fine. The drive’s about three hours. I can call ahead and get another ticket.”
“Hot damn,” Jackie said. “Let’s go.”
13
The car was actually a limo, and it was stocked with drinks and snacks. There was a TV with a video library if they wanted to watch anything. Lucy wasn’t hungry and didn’t want to watch anything. Almost as soon as they go on the road, she began to second-guess herself.
“What am I doing?” she asked. “This is beyond stupid.”
Jackie sat across from her. She popped a potato chip in her mouth, chewed, and took a sip of champagne from a tiny bottle.
“You didn’t have any other plans today, did you?” Jackie asked.
“I’m an idiot,” Lucy said.
“No, you’re not,” Jackie said. “Believe me. I know some real idiots. We’ll enjoy a nice ride and a nice game. That’s all.”
Lucy put her head back. The leather seats were extremely comfortable. She hadn’t slept much, so when she closed her eyes, she fell asleep almost at once.
The last thing she thought she heard was Jackie whispering something to Marcus up front and giggling like a little girl.
14
It was a beautiful day for a baseball game.
The sun was bright and high in the sky. Lucy could smell the freshly-cut green grass on the field. She and Jackie sat on the first-base line, just ten rows up. She hadn’t seen Bo during warm-up as she scanned the players stretching and tossing the ball.
The stadium filled up, and she could smell popcorn and hotdogs, but she still hadn’t eaten anything at all that day. She was a little dizzy and still not sure how she felt. She thought this was probably a huge mistake, but she couldn’t help it. She still wanted to see him.
A local elementary school choir sang The Star-Spangled Banner, and even with the teams lined up outside their dugouts, she still couldn’t see Bo.
“Do you know what number he is?” she whispered to Jackie after the anthem was done.
Jackie opened her mouth to say something, then pointed across the field. Someone was coming out of the dugout, jogging toward the mic. He was wearing the home uniform, number fifty-two stenciled on the back, but Lucy recognized him at once without knowing his number.
He stopped at the microphone, turned, and cleared his throat as he looked toward her section, locking eyes with her.
The crowd grew quiet.
“Afternoon, everybody,” he said. “I know ya’ll came out to see a baseball game today, but there’s something important I need to say to someone very special to me.”
Jackie grabbed Lucy’s arm and squeezed so hard it hurt. But Lucy didn’t feel a thing.
Bo took off his baseball cap and held it to his chest.
“When we first met, I was crude,” he said. “Then I made a bet with a teammate that was even more insulting to you, even without you knowing about it. But then when you found out something embarrassing about me, you didn’t laugh. You offered to help. And then we became friends. And finally we became even more. I’m ashamed of the way I behaved. I took your friendship for granted. But I’d be even more ashamed if I didn’t act on the way I feel. I love you.”
The crowd oohed at that. Lucy was stunned. She didn’t know what to say or do. But then Bo did something that shocked her even more. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. She saw a glint from the sun even this far away.
Bo took the mic off the stand, then knelt in the dirt ar
ound home plate.
“I’m not going to apologize,” he said. “I know you don’t want to hear that. But I humiliated you, not once, but twice. I’m giving you the opportunity to humiliate me, if you want. Lucy McCallister, will you marry me?”
Jackie was still squeezing Lucy’s arm. She must have realized it, because she let go. Lucy stepped past her into the aisle, then walked down to the dugout. A staff member opened a door for her and she ran across the field.
Bo stayed on one knee as she ran to him.
She tried to catch her breath. The ring was enormous. She put out her hand and let him slide it on.
Tears were running down her cheeks. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He smiled that boyish smile, stood up, and took her in his arms, lifting her up and spinning her around. The crowd didn’t need to hear what she had said. It was clear that she’d said yes. They cheered. Jackie cheered loudest of all.
Bo’s team went on to win the game five to two. In the bottom of the fourth, the opposing team’s pitcher, Roddy Dooney, threw a curveball that would have fooled just about every other hitter in the league. Bo Gannett cranked it into right field, driving home three runs.
15
Three days later, Lucy and Bo stood at home plate. She wore a white wedding dress, knee-length with no trail so it wouldn’t get dirty from the field. Bo wore a tuxedo, his muscular chest and arms filling it out beautifully.
The only audience in the bleachers were friends and family. Lucy looked over her shoulder at Jackie, dressed in a pink satin dress. She had her arm hooked in Marcus’. She thought they made a cute couple.
Lucy turned back to Bo, who was looking down at her with absolute adoration.
“I never thought it would turn out like this,” he said.
“Me neither,” she said. “You kind of threw me a curveball.”
He smiled. “I’d say you hit it out of the park.”
They kissed, a minor breach of tradition. Then they turned together to face the pastor, who cleared his throat and began to speak.
Wicked Curveball Page 3