Elizabeth smiled down at her nephew. She was feeling better now. “You’re always welcome to visit me. Or to invite me along on a family fun day.”
“Where are you going?” he asked, indicating the dress.
“To do something helpful for Jon.”
“I’m glad.” Brandon lifted his arms to hug Elizabeth, and when she bent down to meet him, he whispered in her ear, “I think you should marry him.”
She squeezed him tight. What could she say to that?
“Take as good care of your mom as you took care of me,” Elizabeth whispered to him.
“I will,” Brandon said.
“We’ve got to be going.” Ashley herded Brandon out the door and down the stairs.
From the parking lot, Elizabeth watched their car drive away, Brandon’s pitch-back net tied to the roof of Sharma’s car.
* * *
CINDERELLA MADE IT look easy.
Elizabeth ran tripping into the Wellness Hospital auditorium, already late for the fund-raiser dinner. She’d brought her hospital badge with her, and had somehow convinced the women standing at the table out front to let her in, even though her name was not on the list, and even though the charity bachelor auction was long over.
Tables were set up in the large room, and hundreds of men in suits and women in cocktail dresses mingled about, talking and laughing. The podium was empty and the dishes were cleared, evidence that the main action had finished.
Elizabeth hoped she hadn’t missed Vivian Sharpe. She only knew what the lady looked like from her photo in the Sunshine Club brochures.
Elizabeth circled the perimeter of the room, searching faces, but she didn’t see Vivian. Maybe it was too late. She didn’t see Jon, either, which, given that he’d been traded, wasn’t such a surprise after all.
Dejected, she headed for the ladies’ room. There must be something else she could do. But what?
She reached for a tissue on a shelf by the mirror. She had to maneuver around an elderly lady applying bright red lipstick.
Elizabeth tottered on her heels. That elderly lady was Vivian Sharpe.
“Ms. Sharpe?” Elizabeth asked. “I’m Dr. Elizabeth LaValley. I’m an anesthesiologist at Wellness Hospital.” She held out her hand and smiled at the lady.
To her shock, Vivian took her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, dear.”
Elizabeth smiled harder. “My nephew was the boy who made the commercial for the Sunshine Club.”
“Oh, wasn’t that wonderful! It was played for us tonight on an oversize screen.”
“I’m glad you like it. I saw it this afternoon on an airport television.”
“Your nephew could have a future in show business,” Vivian said.
“Actually, he is smitten with baseball.”
“Of course.” Vivian placed her lipstick inside her purse. “Is he interested in being a batboy for the team?”
“He would jump at that in a heartbeat.” Elizabeth licked her lips. Breathe. “But that’s not why I introduced myself. I want to talk about Jon Farell.”
Vivian’s lips pursed. “I’m afraid I don’t want to talk about him,” she said in a dismissive voice. She turned for the door.
Don’t stop. Keep going. Elizabeth dug her nails into her palms and followed Vivian. “I got to know Jon through his work with my nephew. What was written about him in the newspaper doesn’t reflect his character. It wasn’t the whole truth.”
“It never is, dear.” Vivian stopped and patted her hand. “I’m afraid there’s nothing more for us to say. I never talk about team matters in public. I’m sure you understand.”
* * *
JON BRACED HIS HANDS on his balcony railing at the Back Bay Towers, overlooking Boston and all its twinkling lights. Two hours since he’d left Lizzy, and he still felt like hell.
Because he was in love with her. He felt it with an ache that pulled at him.
But it was hopeless. Even if he wanted to, there was nothing left to say between them. He’d put it all out there. Told her things about himself he hadn’t even realized until this weekend.
And now?
The call he’d been waiting for finally came in. Jon answered it on the first ring.
“I’m doing this under protest,” Brooke said. “But my father agreed to see you.”
“Thank you,” Jon said quietly. “I won’t forget it, Brooke.”
Fifteen minutes later, Jon met her outside the lobby coffee shop at Wellness Hospital.
“They moved Max out of intensive care.” Brooke led him down a hospital corridor. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you upset him.”
“I won’t.”
Inside the private patient room, Jon’s agent was hooked into tubes and IV lines. Max looked like a shell of his former self. It just showed Jon how fragile life was, how important it was to focus on what really mattered.
Jon took the chair beside the bed. “Hey, Max. It’s good to see you.”
Max reached out and weakly clasped Jon’s hand. “Brooke says you want to find an East Coast team to offer the Captains something better in a trade for you?” His voice was faint, but he sounded alert.
Jon nodded, feeling guilty for asking, but Max could say no if it was physically too much for him. “I’m thinking of Baltimore.” A short, seventy-five-minute flight from Boston. “Tell them I’ll do whatever it takes to get there.”
Max shook his head. “My advice is to save Baltimore for when you’re a free agent. For now, you should go where the Captains send you.” Max waited, expecting, no doubt, that Jon would do what he recommended because he had been following Max’s advice ever since the day the man had brought him the deal to be a Captains pitcher.
Jon had grown up watching the Captains with his dad, and that was their team. Jon loved the Captains. His dad loved the Captains. His brothers loved the Captains. His grandparents before him had loved the Captains.
But maybe Jon was ready to start over someplace new on his own terms, using all he’d learned during his time with the Captains.
“No, Max,” Jon said. “Baltimore is the team I want.”
“Why? Baltimore is a smaller-market team.”
The past weeks had shown Jon there was an advantage to that. He would have the respect of being a top ace rather than a back-of-the-order guy. A smaller market also had fewer sports-talk shows and sportswriters, and less intense fans. The atmosphere was more relaxed.
Lizzy would have an easier time.
“A smaller-market team has actually become attractive to me recently, but that’s not the major factor.”
“What is the major factor?” Max asked.
Lizzy. The West Coast was too far away to sustain a new, budding relationship with her. “I want the ability to commute back to Boston more easily.”
“Ah.” Max made a small smile. “Family ties, I presume?”
“Something like that.”
“You’re in love with a woman?”
Jon gazed back at Brooke, but she shrugged and stayed out of the conversation.
Jon leaned forward. “Yes,” he whispered in Max’s ear. It felt like a confession. But he wanted to protect Elizabeth’s privacy the way that she’d requested of him.
“What will you do if San Francisco is your only option?” Max asked.
Jon clasped the arm of his chair and tried not to think about this possibility.
His whole life, what Jon had really wanted—not what his family wanted, but what Jon had wanted—was to be a great pitching ace. Hall of Fame worthy. If he was going to knuckle down and be true to his goal, then now was the time. Being a bigger fish in a smaller pond might help him, and he’d come to see the advantage to being traded, the way that would help him. Jon had been painted with the tar brush in the Boston media, and there was no convincing Vivian otherwise.
But if the team he went to was San Francisco, then he could not have Liz.
She was what he wanted, too. In his heart, he knew it. She needed this town, this hospit
al. If he went to San Francisco, essentially, he was choosing baseball over Liz.
Which, on the surface, made sense. The guys on every team he’d ever played with would be yelling at him right about now.
It wasn’t as if he and Lizzy had been close lovers for years. He’d known her just a little over a month. A big part of that month was spent not seeing eye to eye.
But, always, there had been that strong connection between them. She had encouraged him to be true to himself, rather than doing things to please others. He had brought her out of her shell and shown her more of the world, more of what she could be if she only dared.
What if, in a lifetime, Elizabeth LaValley was the one perfect match to his pair? What if she was his destiny?
He had always imagined himself with a great love. He wanted to feel about someone like...his dad had felt about his mom. For Jon, Lizzy was that woman.
And she loved him, too. That was solid between them. He knew it.
In essence, he had two things he wanted. Baseball—his life, his purpose, and his dreams from his earliest age.
And Lizzy—a chance at a true life’s partner.
If Jon didn’t get an East Coast team, then he couldn’t have both.
“Max,” Jon said, “you’re a legend. You know people in management in every clubhouse in baseball. Do what you can for me with Baltimore.”
“Would New York work?” Max asked.
The Captain’s archrivals? Jon almost laughed aloud. Frank would have a heart attack. Bobby would never wear his team colors. His father would insist that his father was spinning in his grave. Even Brandon would pitch a fit.
But New York was close by, and Jon would still be playing baseball at the highest levels. “New York works for me. Just not San Francisco.”
“I understand,” Max said. “Any place but the West Coast.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ELIZABETH FINISHED HER shift as usual that rainy, cloudy Tuesday, and went about her usual routines feeling anything but usual.
As she headed toward the elevator that led to her route home, she realized that her gait was slower than normal. Instead of staring at the white hospital floor as she hastened along, she walked more slowly and looked about her. At the couples and families that entered the hospital for their appointments. At the nurses and doctors and support staff that comprised their bustling, scrubs-wearing community.
And she was headed back to an empty, lonely condo?
The ache in her heart intensified. It had been about forty-eight hours since Jon had found out he was getting traded and leaving Boston, and the pain was only getting worse. She missed him like she missed her books if they were taken away from her. Like she missed her freedom if it was curtailed.
But wasn’t freedom more enjoyable and interesting with someone to share it with?
An ally, that’s what Jon had called her. She’d been insulted at the time because she’d wanted him to tell her he loved her. And he had told her. Now she had an unshakable feeling as certain as New England bedrock, that Jon would always be her ally, if she allowed him to be himself, and found a way to integrate him into her life.
She hadn’t realized how slowly she’d been softening this month, getting used to seeing Jon, looking forward to his amusing comments that made her laugh, to the stories of his day, the comfort and love of his embrace.
She and Jon and Brandon had made their own little family together and, without the two of them, Elizabeth’s heart was ripped in half. It was true that she couldn’t have Brandon back because he belonged with her sister, but she could have Jon. She could, if only she allowed herself to let go and shed the old habits that just didn’t work for her anymore.
Elizabeth stopped. To her left was a waiting room; a television might be playing inside. She didn’t know, because she typically didn’t look—it was not part of her routine. But televisions played press conferences, especially press conferences from local sports teams.
She had woken this morning vowing that she wouldn’t watch Jon, that she wouldn’t torture herself. But she was overcome by a desire to see him, to learn more about his decision. If she learned more, maybe she could adapt herself to it.
An elderly gentleman, assisted by his wife, stopped Elizabeth in the corridor. They made eye contact with her, and she didn’t look away. “Can you tell us where to find Outpatient Check-in?” the wife asked. She showed Elizabeth their appointment slip.
“Certainly. We’re close by, let me show you.” Elizabeth led them to the huge waiting room on the main floor. Not one but two televisions were both turned to the local cable news station.
A feed was being broadcast from the Captains press offices at Captains Field. The camera was focused on Jon—her Jon, her heart said—with his mystical good looks and his quiet, calm eyes.
She stood in front of the television between a burly man standing on crutches and a boy about Brandon’s age. “Is there any way to turn on the sound?” Elizabeth asked the man.
He shook his head. “I asked already, and they said no.”
Elizabeth concentrated on the television screen. If only she could lip-read. Jon sat at a table with his hands folded in front of him. He was speaking in what looked to be a focused, measured voice into a microphone. To Elizabeth, it felt eerily like he was talking to her alone.
“He’s apologizing,” the boy about Brandon’s age said.
“Do you think so?” Elizabeth asked.
“That’s what the news on the radio said. They said he wants to make a statement to his fans.”
“The team scapegoated him,” the burly man muttered. “Everybody knows it’s bullcrap how Jon got blamed.”
“Really?” Elizabeth asked. “Is that what people think?”
“My wife’s uncle works with Jon’s brother. Believe me, that’s the inside scoop. But you’ll never hear it in the press.”
“Still, it’s nice he’s apologizing,” Elizabeth said.
The man grunted, but the boy smiled up at her. On television, Jon certainly seemed more at peace. The line on his forehead that had gotten starker as the scandal wore on seemed smoother now. His eyes still looked pained, though. It had to hurt him to give up his Captains affiliation. That had been his life and his identity and his dream for so many years.
Farell Traded to San Francisco, flashed the headline on the screen.
Elizabeth sighed. “Did the radio say when he is leaving?” she asked the boy.
“I dunno.” The boy shrugged.
“This week,” the man answered. “I told you, I know the family.”
Elizabeth hid her smile. She knew the family, too.
Quietly, she watched the press conference until Jon’s face was no longer on the television screen. Seeing him there focused her intent.
She went back upstairs to her station and dug out her iPad. She turned it on, and connected to the hospital internet. Maybe it was crazy, but she searched on Google for San Francisco. The city had an extensive network of hospitals and medical centers. She went through a few sites, scanned through the doctors’ names.
She paused at one name. She knew this person. Yes, she had one contact. She scanned more lists, found more names. Cross-referenced those names with directories, made some phone calls, and...found someone who would talk to her.
Three hours later, she called her scheduler. “Please, I need to take off two days from work. It’s...a family emergency.”
And it was.
* * *
ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, Jon sat in the airline’s first-class lounge at Logan Airport, and answered the incoming phone call from Brooke.
“I just got off the phone with San Francisco,” Brooke said. “They want to lock up a deal with you. Max is playing hardball—the money should be big. If we don’t get what we want from them, then we’ll go to arbitration. Either way, it can only turn out well for us.”
Jon nodded. Half of him was thoroughly crushed. “Thanks for the update,” he said quietly.
�
�Hold on, Jon—I have another call.” Brooke sighed happily. “You’re on your way to the big time, do you know that?”
He knew. It gave the other half of him a quiet, humbling satisfaction.
But to leave Elizabeth—that wasn’t what he wanted. He’d tried to sleep last night, but his thoughts kept returning to her. Even now, even when it was certain that the West Coast was his destiny, at least for the next few years.
He would probably always think about Lizzy. Always wonder “What if?”
What if he had stayed with her and given her what she needed?
But if Jon had learned anything these past thirty days, it was that if he sacrificed too much of himself, then he would have nothing left to give anybody. Lizzy had shown him that. She knew what was good for her and how to take care of herself, and he would always carry that with him.
He leaned his head back on the airport seat and let his mind drift. To the days and nights spent with her and Brandon. To the trip they’d taken to Phoenix.
To that last goodbye.
Brooke called him back. “Sorry about that. It was Max. I thought it was about your contract, but it wasn’t, he’s leaving the hospital today and he needs me to pick him up.”
“Thank Max again, for everything.”
“He did tell me something interesting,” Brooke said. “After the press conference, he got a call from Vivian Sharpe.”
“Did he?”
“She was appreciative. She called you a ‘humble young man.’” Brooke sighed. “Whatever, Jon, it was classy what you did, apologizing like that.”
He hoped so. “There are a lot of kids in Boston,” he said quietly. “I wanted them to hear it from me.”
Jon had already heard from Brandon. BRANDON! would always be keyed into Jon’s contact list, though he’d switched the number to the boy’s actual home phone number. Jon had asked the kid about his aunt, but Brandon didn’t say much, and Jon had inferred that Lizzy was living life alone again. He wondered if she missed the boy as much as he did.
“Vivian also said something else that I thought you might like to hear,” Brooke said. “She said that a doctor at the hospital—a pretty, female doctor at the hospital—showed up at the end of the bachelor fund-raising auction and cornered her in the ladies’ restroom. The doctor wanted to talk about you, Jon. What do you think that was about?”
Out of His League Page 27