Playing the Field

by C. J. Pinard

  But then while I was in college, I was playing baseball for the college team. Why did I decide to play? A number of reasons. First being that I played baseball growing up. From the time I could hold a bat, my dad had me in baseball. I played through high school and loved it. But more than that, I realized much later that part of the reason I’d joined the team was because I missed the camaraderie of the Marine Corps. A tight-knit group of guys bent on having each other’s backs and protecting one another. A group of like-minded guys with one common goal. In the Marines it had meant staying alive and serving our country. On the team, it meant learning how to play the best we could, and winning.

  I really, really need you to understand, Miranda, that winning isn’t everything to me. It’s a means to an end that makes my fellow players happy with me. It’s a political game I play, one with a minor (and sometimes comical) local “celebrity” status that really doesn’t hold much interest to me. Yes, the attention and looks are nice… and before I met you, I had exploited that to the fullest extent. Not my most proudest of moments, but it was part of the game.

  I can see why you call me a player. I must come off that way. I’m not. I don’t have a game to play with you, Miranda Lee Cates. I love you so much and would give it all up for you. I have a little less than two years left on my Marine Corps contract with the reserves, and I’ll get out when it’s done, if that’s what you want. But not a minute sooner.

  I will also quit the minor league baseball team. It’s fun, it’s good exercise, but at the end of the day, it’s just a game and in the long run won’t mean jack shit if I’m a 50-year-old bachelor in a few short years that I know will fly by me.

  I love you, my queen. I love your daughter. Yes I said it, I love Ashlynn. She’s seeped into my heart and planted herself there with her big brown eyes and beautiful laugh. Can’t you see that? You have to have seen that. You have to see how I dote on her when she’s with us. You have to see how she smiles at me when I talk to her. That has to mean something to you.

  I’m sorry, beautiful. I’m so sorry for keeping all of this from you. I was wrong – oh so wrong for doing it, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.

  Love & Apologies,

  Jace

  If that letter didn’t at least let me explain things to her, I give the fuck up.

  Chapter 13

  The Mustang turned the corner to Miranda’s house. Her familiar beige-colored home came into view, and I parked in front. Her car wasn’t in the drive, and I didn’t know if I was relieved or upset by this. She owned an older home, the kind where the letterbox was attached to the front door with a slot, and I knew I had to drop the heartfelt letter through the slot in order to do what I came here to do.

  I don’t know how long I sat and stared at that mailbox. That small, brass-encased slot fixed into her door. The letter was in my hand, sealed in an envelope, and ready to go. So why couldn’t I deliver it? I let out a sigh and ran a hand through my hair. Spying an antique-looking wicker rocking chair on her porch, I plopped myself down into it and sat still. What was I so afraid of? Could I lose Miranda forever by delivering this letter? I didn’t think so. Hell, I’d even had my sister Darcy look it over before I carefully penned it out. She had called me a pussy-whooped sap, but then added, “If she doesn’t at least hear you out after reading this, she’s a witch – move on.” It had made me smile at the time.

  I twirled the plain white envelope in my hands, her name scrawled across the front in my atrocious handwriting, contemplating what I should do with the letter. I stood up and pushed the worn brass flap to shoot the envelope through the slot when I heard the crunch of tires. I turned around to see Miranda’s little red Honda pulling into her driveway. I quickly folded the letter and shoved it into my pocket.

  Deciding I had no other choice but to stand there like an ass, I folded my arms across my black USMC T-shirt and stood with attitude oozing off me like it could penetrate the ozone.

  Miranda’s eyes met mine. It was a mixture of hurt, anger, and then longing. She got out slowly, pushing the front seat forward in her two-door car to let Ashlynn out of her car seat.

  Ashlynn bolted out of the car and yelled, “Jace!”, launching herself into my arms. I had to damn near fight back a tear that threatened to fall at seeing the little beauty.

  “Hi, princess!” I replied.

  With her head resting on my chest, I watched as Miranda slowly made her way up to the porch, her purse slung around her shoulder and a single plastic bag in her hand. She was in her prison uniform, a light blue polo shirt and dark blue cargo pants that reminded me of someone on a SWAT team.

  With her whiskey eyes not leaving mine, she stared at me. Before she could say anything at all, I said, “Can we talk?”

  She slowly nodded her head, drifting her gaze away from mine and to her front door.

  I followed her inside, still holding Ashlynn. I set her down once we reached the kitchen, and Miranda unwrapped something to eat and gave it to her. She took off toward the living room and turned on the TV. I watched her for a minute, then turned to Miranda, who was leaning against her kitchen counter with her arms folded over her chest, staring at me. I saw her gaze drift down to my USMC shirt, then back into my eyes. I wondered what was going on behind those eyes. Did she want to roll them at the sight of my shirt? Or was she secretly happy to see it? It didn’t matter. I had nothing to hide now. With silence blanketing the air between us, I started.

  “You ready to hear me out?” I finally asked.

  She nodded, continuing to look impassive, if not a little angry.

  “Look, baby, first I’m going to apologize for not telling you sooner about the reserves. You seemed to really hate military men, and I was just… a coward, for lack of a better term. It won’t happen again.”

  “I don’t hate –” she started, but I cut her off.

  Oh, hell no. She wasn’t gonna interrupt me with that lie. “Let me finish.”

  She swallowed hard and just stared at me, her arms still folded across her chest.

  I realized that letter was in my pocket, and decided now was the time to tell her in person. Was I going to save the letter? Maybe. But for now, I was going to man-up and look into her eyes as I poured out my heart with all the honesty I had inside of me.

  I began, “I’m gonna shoot totally straight with you, since obviously I haven’t been. Right outta high school, I joined the Marines. I was fulltime for four years, until I got out and went to college with my GI Bill. I started playing ball in college and that’s where that scout spotted me. I’ve only been in the minor leagues for a couple of years. It’s fun, but it’s not a career. I have no aspirations to make it into the big leagues. Let’s be real here, I’m 27; I’m practically at retirement age.”

  She just looked at me, still saying nothing, and the silence was starting to get to me. Although I did just cut her off. So I continued, “I joined the reserves after I got out because I still feel a duty to the Marine Corps. Ever heard the term, ‘Once a Marine, always a Marine’?”

  “Only a million times,” she snorted.

  I smiled. “I figured. Well, I’m not gonna stay in the reserves forever, but it is a part of me, Miranda. I just really hope that you will be a part of me too. It is possible for me to give myself both to you and the service. I’ll quit the baseball thing if it means I get to keep you. But I won’t leave the reserves. Not yet, anyway. Not until I’m ready.”

  Gone was her angry look. Her face began to soften and tears glistened in her eyes. Immediately, fear and sadness bolted me through me. What had I said? I was about to say something else – to ask her if she was all right – when she pushed herself off the counter and came to me. She raised her hand to my face, and while I stiffened my body, preparing to be slapped, she took a manicured hand and grabbed both sides of my face in her grip.

  “Do not ever lie to me again, Jace. I mean it.”

  I shook my head, and then leaned down and
kissed her. I had to. I needed to. And when her tongue snaked in my mouth and her fingernails raked through the hair on the back of my head, I went instantly hard in my jeans and wanted nothing more than to take her to the bedroom and show her how truly sorry I was and how much I’d missed her and her delectable body.

  That would have to wait, though, as Ashlynn’s giggles bolted us from our makeup kiss. And honestly… I didn’t really mind at all. That baby girl always made me smile.

  ***

  Thankfully, the following night, Ashlynn stayed with her parents and we did a lot of making up. In fact, she’d made me put on my dress blues. I found this more than amusing, and of course filled me with pride. She can say all day long that she doesn’t like military men, but the truth was, I think she loved them. Or was at least turned on by them. The uniform, the power, the masculinity. She had torn off my uniform and we’d banged it out at least three times that night. But my beautiful girlfriend wasn’t the only reason for my sleepless night. Some guys dream about being a hero, but unfortunately, I had nightmares about it.

  But they had been especially fierce that night. Maybe it was putting on the uniform and all the military talk that did it, I didn’t know. But I had the same dream about the small child in the village in Fallujah at least two times, and when I woke up gasping, I’d woken Miranda, and that killed me in so many ways, I couldn’t even begin to explain. But the most amazing part was her reaction.

  I awoke to feel warm hands gripping my shoulders. She made me look at her after flipping on the light. Once I’d calmed and lay back down, she smoothed back my hair at my forehead.

  With her head on my chest, she began whispering positive things to me until I had drifted back to sleep. As simple as this gesture was, it was one of the kindest things I’d ever had someone do for me. It wasn’t anything I was going to forget anytime soon, either. I had to solidify this thing with Miranda. I had to make her mine permanently.

  I had to put a ring on it.

  Chapter 14

  How was I gonna propose to the love of my life? I thought about putting the dress blues on again and getting down on bended knee in the middle of a crowded event in the town square, ring in hand, but I knew the military thing was still a bit raw for the both of us, so ditched that idea. I couldn’t do just some lame proposal at a restaurant or in a park. It had to be epic. It had to be memorable. And it had to be in public.

  I knew deep in the depths of my soul that Miranda would say yes. The way she looked at me… she tried to be hard-edged and guarded but I knew better. She acted rough around the edges but it wasn’t a turnoff. It was like she was guarding some part of her heart that she wasn’t going to let anyone see. It was like she was reserving it for the right guy, and once she met him, she’d let those walls down. I just hoped I was the guy¸ because those rough edges she was putting out didn’t make me want to run away. They made me want to dig deep and find out why she had them to begin with. I had stripped back her layers of protection and had gotten deep into her heart and I just knew she wouldn’t turn down my proposal, so I had to make it special for her.

  I thought I knew her well enough to know that while she worked in law enforcement and was a strong, single mother, I also knew there was a side of her that embraced her femininity. How was I going to find both a ring and a proposal that would embrace them both? I didn’t know, but just had to. I had made it my mission over the past two weeks to do just that. I didn’t think I had to charm her to get her to say yes, I just had to show her that I understood her. That I had learned to appreciate all the sides of Miranda Cates, and that I loved every part of her. The stubborn edge that had pushed me away, and the soft side that had taken me back and made me regret having ever having been away from her for even a minute. My heart ached it was so full because her. I had never felt this way. Not with Samantha. Not even close. Looking back now, that silly, childish infatuation I’d had with Sam was nothing like this. I found myself feeling sorry for people who actually got married and had children with someone with whom they’d had that sort of relationship with. It was a childish crush and nothing more. True, real, deep love went down into the marrow of your bones and implanted itself into your soul until she was all you thought about, until she ruled your heart and mind, and being apart from her was pure and utter torture.

  I found myself wandering the aisles of the large warehouse in San Francisco. Supposedly this place was the largest jewelry wholesaler in the Bay Area, or so I’d been told. My mom had been here before and had let me use her card to get in. There were aisles and aisles of jewelry. I tried not to let myself get overwhelmed by it all. People of all walks of life and races and ages were in this place, looking for the perfect piece. I’d never given much thought to jewelry at all. I certainly never wore any. I had worn a watch on occasion, a simple black digital deal when I was doing bomb-squad training in the service, but only because I had to. I hoped – knew – one day I’d be wearing a wedding ring. I smiled at the thought as I perused the aisles of this jewelry warehouse.

  I stopped at a glittering case of diamonds that seemed to call to me. Peering with glazed eyes, all the rings started to look alike. Something just had to appeal to me, I thought. But nothing was jumping out at me.

  A shadow loomed over the glass. I looked up to see a middle-aged blonde man in a pressed 3-piece gray suit and charming smile was staring at me. “See anything you like?” he asked.

  I grinned back and shook my head. “I’m not sure. I need something perfect.”

  “Proposing?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Yes. That obvious?”

  He grinned back. “Not at all. You are looking at engagement rings.”

  “You have a point,” I muttered.

  “Tell me about her,” he inquired.

  I chuckled a little. “I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. She’s my queen – elegant and beautiful, with a few hard edges. Takes no crap from me or anyone, and still manages to kick ass without breaking a nail.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, the hair on his head so shellacked with hairspray, it didn’t even move. I watched this curiously, then stared at him.

  “You’ll need a princess cut diamond then. But I have an idea for it.”

  I raised a curious eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

  He pulled a key attached to a retractable device from his belt and unlocked the case we were both standing in front of. Delicately lifting a platinum ring with a large square diamond sitting on top, he showed it to me. It had no other features or stones; just the diamond. The florescent lights of the place shimmered off the ring and into my wide, curious eyes.

  I held it close to my face, as he said, “I suggest we take this diamond and set it so it’s perched literally in a diamond shape instead of a square when you look at it. Kind of like a baseball diamond.”

  He had me at baseball diamond, and I bit back a grin. “Start the paperwork.”

  That was a lot easier than I thought. Thank God for slick-talking salesmen who have an eye for clueless bachelors in love with beautiful women.

  ***

  The screams and whistles of the fans were deafening. While I had thought last week’s game we’d played would be our last, I was wrong. This was it, the World Series of minor league, and our team had made it. I knew Miranda, her parents, Ashlynn, and my entire family were in the stands. Did this make me nervous? Not sure, but I knew I had to perform at the very peak of my game.

  The stands were packed. The stadium was loud and bright, and my adrenaline was on overdrive. I shifted from foot to foot as my team was at the bottom of the eighth, the score tied, praying we could score one more homerun so we wouldn’t have to go into overtime. As silly as it was, I knew Miranda and Ashlynn, along with my sister and her kids, had been in the stands for hours and I’m sure they wanted to get their kids home.

  Since when I did I turn into such a softie?

  I was up to bat and the pitch coming my way was pathetic at best. I smack
ed the ball out of the field and watched in amusement as it went over the back fence. Tossing the bat away with my left hand, I trotted my way to home plate while the crowd erupted in cheers. I checked the screen and saw red hearts begin to explode all over it. It was my cue.

  I gulped back my nervousness before hesitating just a brief few seconds. Knowing I had already committed to this, and it was go time, I went behind the dugout. Staring at the fence for a brief second, I then quickly jumped over it. I heard a few gasps. I sprinted up the steps to the seats I knew Miranda and her family would be. They were all staring at me in disbelief, the rest of the crowd gasping as I ran by. I saw a few hands reach out and try to touch me. I heard my name being called and ignored them all. I was on a mission and nothing was going to stop me. The eyes of thousands of people were on me, I knew, and I had to keep my head in this.

  Hoping the ring I’d placed in the pocket of my tight baseball pants was still there, I reached in and glanced once again at the huge electronic screen, seeing WILL YOU MARRY ME? scrawled across it.

  Cheesy? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

  Miranda’s face was a mask of incredulousness and happiness. I got down on one knee and said: “Miranda Lee Cates, the queen of my kingdom, the absolute love of my life, please make me the happiest man on the Earth and say you’ll marry me?”

  She gasped, staring at me for longer than was comfortable. You could hear a pin drop in that stadium.

  Oh, God, Miranda, say something! I screamed inside my head, the smile still plastered on my face.

  I saw her mother’s elbow make connection with Miranda’s ribs. She looked at her mother, then back into my eyes, then down at the ring. “Oh, my God,” she breathed.

  I was still smiling, trying to keep it together. I’m not sure I was breathing at all at that point.