by Sean Michael
“Oh, Benj. Thank God. Thank God for that.” Jean whispered the words, grinning ear to ear.
“Yeah. Amen,” Benj agreed as Ralph let Jean and the little one go. “And he’s eager to get out of the hospital, so I figure he’s not feeling too bad.”
Ralph nodded. “What I read said the pain isn’t too bad in these things.” It was the emotional issues he was worried about. Benj looked happy, though, so for now, things seemed to be going well.
Jean sat with Benj for a while, the two of them chatting away.
Ralph wandered around the room, trying to be unobtrusive.
Brett’s eyes opened, and he tracked Ralph’s movements.
Ralph wandered over to the bed, gave the man a grin. “Hey. Benj told us the good news—about it not being cancer. Congratulations, man.”
“You’re welcome. I mean, thank you.”
He grinned and leaned against the bed. “I bet you’re about ready to break out of this joint, though, huh?”
“Yeah. Let’s go. You drive.”
Ralph chuckled. “It won’t be long, man. Just hang in there. At least you’ve got Jean bringing you decent food.”
“I want out. I need to start moving again, working out.”
“I’ll give you this, Brett—you are one tough son of a bitch. I suggest, though, that you let those stitches in your head heal before you go at it a hundred percent.” He leaned in and murmured, “Your Benjamin would kill me if I let you do anything that made your head pop off.”
Brett almost laughed. “Hey, you’re supposed to be focused on my shoulder.”
“I’ll try and remember that, man.” He winked.
Brett looked over at Benj quickly, then grabbed Ralph’s arm. “Tell me the truth—the walking thing, it’s gonna get better soon, right?”
“It is, man. Your brain is rewiring, you know? Plus, the whole surgery thing. It tires a body out.”
“You’re not shitting me?”
“I don’t do that, man.”
“Okay.” Brett sighed, nodded. Winced. “Man, it pulls the stitches when I do that.”
“Yeah, give them a few days too, huh? It’s all going to come together for you. You just have to try not to go crazy until that happens.”
“I want out of here. I need things to stop being fucked.”
“Three days, man. Then you’ll come back to our place, and you and I will be back to duking it out.”
“Okay. Three days. Take Benj home, huh? He’s got to be fucking exhausted.”
“I’m sure he is. But he keeps saying he made you a promise, and I’m not sure if we should try and make him break it.”
“He’s a stud.”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
Brett snorted. “There’s no surprise.”
“There is to those of us who don’t know him. It’s a good surprise, though.”
“He’s one hell of a man.”
“He is. You both are.” He patted Brett’s shoulder. “You’ll both get through this.”
“Maybe.” That didn’t sound hopeful.
“No maybes about it, man. Hey, you survived meditating with me and Jean, didn’t you?”
“Meditating? Oh right. You mean your nap.”
Ralph chuckled, gave Brett another wink. “If Jean calls it meditating, then that’s what it is.”
“You are so whipped.”
“I am.” He patted Brett’s shoulder again. “I doubt I’m the only one here.”
Brett tried to growl, but he was almost asleep again, blinking slowly at Ralph.
“Sleep, man. Jean and I’ll be back tomorrow to bug you some more.”
“Uh-huh.”
Boom.
Asleep.
Ralph chuckled and turned to where Benj and Jean were still talking together, the little one looking like he was half-asleep himself.
“Hey, babe, we should probably go. Come back tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Are you sure you won’t come back with us, cher?”
Benj shook his head. “No, my place is here. I can catch up on my sleep when Brett’s better.”
“If you’re sure.” Jean hugged Benj again, patted his back.
“I’m sure. I’m just going to curl back up with him, listen to his heartbeat.”
“That sounds good, cher.”
“Yeah, it is good.” Benj kissed them both on the cheek and said good night.
Ralph put his arm around Jean’s shoulder. “Come on, babe. Home.”
“Yeah. Yeah, chou.”
Ralph thought Jean looked almost as tired as Brett did. He was going to have to make sure he took better care of his man.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
BRETT WAS going to take the cane and shove it up someone’s ass.
Sideways.
He crept down the hall, the walls seeming to tilt and move as he walked.
“Dude! Bat man! What’s up?”
He looked up and saw Mickey and Raul heading down the hall toward him.
Fuck.
“Hey, guys.” Look at me. I’m a gimp with a cane.
“Hi, guys.” Benj squeezed his arm, just the once.
“Look at you.” Mickey walked around him. “Brain surgery. Man, some people will do anything for a little attention.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
Raul hooted, clapped. “Still the sweetest motherfucker in the game.”
Benj giggled softly but had mostly faded into the background.
“I couldn’t quite believe it when we heard the news, but I’m seeing it with my own eyes. They leave any brain behind when they took it out?” Mickey didn’t say it, but the question hung there anyway. Was it cancer? Are you okay?
“Nope. They just sucked the whole fucking thing out. Good thing, because now I can talk at you fuckers’ level. Where the fuck is Jack?”
Raul shrugged, black eyes rolling. “You know Jack, man. He’s scared of fucking hospitals.”
“Liar!” The little red-headed pitcher came running, squealing to a halt in front of Brett, making him stumble back. “Dude! A cane! Can you run? Does the brass know? Fuck-a-doodle!”
Mickey grabbed Jack by the collar and hauled him back. “The man just had brain surgery. Give him a fucking break. Asshole.”
“Brain tumors…. You know, that’s high-dollar fucked-up, Brat.”
Brett rolled his eyes. “You are just a doll baby, you mouthy asshole.” Still, it felt sort of good to get shit out in the open.
“Jack’s got a point, though. What’s gonna happen come spring? Team won’t be the same if we don’t have your ancient ass warming the bench.”
He looked at Mickey. “I intend to be back, man.”
Maybe.
For one more season.
“For real, man?” Mickey’s face broke into a huge grin. “All right! That’s the best news we’ve had in months.”
“Yeah. For real.” He answered Mickey’s grin, but he wouldn’t look at Benj. “Hell, it might be my best season yet.”
“Woohoo!”
The guys shared a round of high fives, ending with Mickey holding a hand up to him.
He went to high-five, and his hand slipped on the cane, sending him careening forward. His head knocked into Mick’s shoulder, and right before the world blinked out, he saw the wall.
Fucking hell.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
BENJ DID not freak out.
Okay, he didn’t freak out on the outside. Inside was a totally different story, but he was the only one who knew about that so it counted as not freaking out.
Marcus and Ken, who’d clearly been hovering out of sight while he and Brett walked, had swooped in and gotten Brett back to his hospital bed with a minimum of fuss, leaving Benj to reassure Brett’s buddies that everything was fine.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” he told Mickey.
“Dude, Ben. Dude. He… he ain’t coming back, is he?”
Benj wanted to say that no, Brett wasn’t coming back. He wanted to say that a
lot, but he didn’t. “Oh, don’t count him out yet. You know how stubborn he is—and the doctors say it’ll take a few days for his brain to remake connections. This is all perfectly normal.” Perfectly normal. Right. He nearly laughed, but he didn’t think he’d be able to stop.
Raul shook his head, then grabbed Jack’s arm. “Come on. Ben needs a fucking coffee.”
“Huh?”
“Cof. Fee. For Ben. You and me. Buying. Walk.”
He opened his mouth to tell them he didn’t need one, but then he clued in that Raul was trying to make this easier for him, so he nodded and found a smile from somewhere for them. “That would be great, thanks.”
“Yeah, man.” Raul nodded and went, leaving him to face Brett’s best friend.
“Tell me the truth, Ben. I ain’t gonna rat him out—not to anyone.”
“I don’t know, Mickey. The doctors said that best case, he’s well enough to play in the spring. Worst case was he died on the table, so we’re already ahead of the game here.” He was not going to let Brett forget that, no matter what else happened. Brett was alive and wasn’t a vegetable. That right there was a victory, goddammit.
“How’s the shoulder?” Mickey’s green eyes were sad, serious but unflinching. Mickey had been in the minors with Brett. Brett had talked management into moving Mickey up. The man was rock solid.
“Not great. But Ralph was only just starting to work on it with him when we found out about the tumor. He’s had it for years. Years, Mickey.”
Mickey nodded. “He’s had headaches since he was in the minors, man. We all just thought… I guess that it was just Brett.”
Benj nodded. “I know. Me too.” He sighed and tried not to feel guilty about that, about it taking someone they’d only known a short time to insist he get checked out. “You know him, Mickey. He’s stubborn. If there’s any way for him to get back out there by spring, he will.”
“Yeah, but… Ben, is that the good thing? He’s not hurting for money—Brett’s wicked smart with it. Maybe… maybe it’s time. I’m going to announce my retirement in the spring. We got another baby coming. I don’t want to miss her.”
“Oh, congratulations, Mickey! I’m so happy for you—Brett will be too. As for the other.” Benj shrugged. “He doesn’t want to go out like this. He has it in his head that if he can do one more season, then he’ll be going out like a man.” Benj didn’t believe that, but Brett was Brett, and he’d support his lover.
“Well, if you need someone to talk to him….” Mickey sighed, rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d rather have him go out a season early and not hurt the rest of his life.”
“From your lips to God’s ears, Mickey. Or at least Brett’s.”
“Yeah, well. You know how to reach me. I’ll come if you need, but….” He lowered his voice. “Don’t mention it to Jack, huh? Raul I trust, but Jack… he ain’t mean, but….”
Benj nodded. “He doesn’t have Brett’s back like you do.”
“Yeah.” Mickey’s gaze went to the door. “You think he’s okay?”
“I sure hope so.”
Brett had to be okay, there was no other choice.
“Shall we go see?”
EVERYTHING WAS swimming.
A lot.
“I’m gonna hurl.”
“No. No, man. That’s too much pressure. We’ll give you a patch, huh? It’ll settle you.”
Another voice sounded. “Do you remember what happened, Mr. McCallister?”
“I fell.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“Hospital. I was talking to Mick. I fell because you assholes sucked out a chunk of my brain.”
There was a chuckle, and he was able to see enough to recognize Marcus. “That about sums it up. You have to be careful until you’re steady on your feet, man.”
“I want to go home.”
Now.
Now would be good.
“Soon, man. Trust me, we want to see the back of you.” Marcus gave him a wink.
“Fuck off. Where’s Benj?” He winked back, though.
As if drawn by his name, Benj appeared at the door, with Mickey right behind him.
“Baby.” He held out one shaking hand. “Sorry, Mick.”
Benj came rushing over, took his hand. “Oh, love. You gave us a scare.”
Mickey followed more slowly “Hey, I’m just glad I’m not responsible for any permanent damage, man.”
“No. I’m just off balance.” And a klutz. And a bit of a loser.
“Oh, so nothing’s changed.”
“Fuck you.” God, he was…. Shit.
Mickey laughed and clapped him on the shoulder—the good one, thank God. “Fuck you too.”
“How’s the wife? I didn’t get to ask.” Brett couldn’t remember her name for the life of him.
“Nina’s great. She’s got another bun in the oven, man.”
“Really? Congratulations!” Mickey was a damned good father.
Mickey’s grin was suddenly full-on and totally real. “Thanks, man. We’re excited.”
“When’s it coming?”
Brett kept holding on to Benj’s hand; it was like a lifeline—warm and solid.
“May, man.”
“Oh, cool.” Wait, did that make her only a little pregnant?
“Yeah, I’m….” Mickey looked over at Benj, who nodded. “I’m announcing my retirement in the spring, man. I want to actually spend some time with the family, you know?”
“No shit? How’s—” Nancy? Nelly? Nita? Nina. Nina. “—Nina feel about that?”
“She said something along the lines of ‘it’s about time, asshole.’ I might be paraphrasing some.”
“Yeah? You’re not… regretting it?” Because God knew, Brett was starting to think about…. “Does it feel like giving up?”
“No way, man. I put in my time, worked hard. I deserve to retire and spend some time with my family.”
He saw Benj nodding out of the corner of his eye.
“We should get a place on the Cape, man. Next summer. All of us, and the kids.”
“You’re on, Brett. I’m gonna hold you to it.”
He nodded, then groaned again, his head throbbing.
“Soon that won’t hurt,” Benj told him, petting his hand gently.
“That’s what they say. Fuck.”
“I should go,” Mick said. “I’ll grab the guys up from the cafeteria. We’ll get together when you’re back in town, ’kay?”
“Hey, Mickey. Thanks, man. Huh?”
Mickey grabbed his hand, shook hard. “Anytime. You get better.”
“I will.” He didn’t know how much better, but he would. “Tell Nancy I said congratulations.”
“Nina. Sure. She’ll be happy to know you made it through okay. She’s always had a soft spot for you and Ben.”
“Yeah. She’s a doll baby.” Nina. Jesus, man. Cope.
“Okay. We’ll see you guys.”
Mickey shook his hand again and then headed out.
“That was nice of them to visit,” murmured Benj.
“Yeah.” Brett closed his eyes for a second, trying to sort shit out.
“Are you all right, love?”
“No, baby. I’m pissed off.” Maybe more than pissed off.
“Don’t be mad at Mickey—he didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I’m mad at me, Benj. I made a fucking fool out of myself.”
“No, you didn’t!” Benj hugged him tight. “Mickey understood.”
“Benj, I fell down and passed out from a motherfucking high five!”
“And had you done a high five since the operation? No. The doctors explained how your brain needs to rewire itself.”
“I know. It doesn’t mean it’s okay.”
“Getting mad at yourself isn’t going to help.”
“What am I supposed to do?” He didn’t want to growl.
“Let your body heal! You don’t have to go out there and play baseball today. Or even tomorrow.”
“I just don’t want to fall down.”
“So tomorrow you won’t. One day at a time, love.”
He looked at Benj, shook his head. “Are you going to keep on being calm and shit?”
“I think I can manage it for another day or two. I’m counting on you being sprung by then.” Benj gave him a wry smile.
He met Benj’s eyes, serious, sure. “This is fucking weird. I hate this shit.”
“I know. Me too.” Benj leaned in and kissed him softly. “It’s going to get better, though.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“It will. I won’t accept anything else.”
“Hardass.” That made Brett laugh, hard.
Benj giggled right along with him. “That’s me. Ass of steel.”
Brett rolled his eyes, kept grinning, so fucking in love it hurt a bit.
Benj curled up against him, fingers sliding over his chest, warm through his pajama top. “I love you, Brett McCallister. No matter what.”
“Tell me we can leave tomorrow. Even if it’s a lie.”
“We can leave tomorrow, love. Ralph and Jean will take us home and feed you smoothies.”
“And after that?”
“After that I’m taking you to bed and making love to you. It’ll last for hours. Like that tantric sex you read about but never quite believe.”
“No shit?” He grinned, drew Benj closer. “What else?”
“Well, I don’t know. I think we’ll be pretty exhausted after the hours and hours of sex.”
“Baby. Benj. Imagination. Use your imagination.” He closed his eyes, listened to the sound of his lover’s voice, felt Benj’s cheek on his shoulder.
“We could eat. We could take a walk around the park, and then you can teach me and Jean and Ralph how to be big, bad baseball players. And then we’ll plan the trips we’re going to take when you retire.”
“Mmmhmm. Paris. Rome. Rio, maybe. Then home for Christmas.” It didn’t sound like a bad life. In fact… what had Mickey said? He’d put in his time?
“And then a cruise or two during the winter months.”
“And springs somewhere not on the ball field.”
“Someplace where we can see all the flowers and trees blooming. Can you imagine it, love? You and me kissing under a cherry tree in bloom? It would be very romantic.”