A League of Her Own

by Karen Rock

  “Are you tired?” he asked without turning. “We don’t need to talk.”

  Better they didn’t, she thought, but said instead, “No. I mean, not unless you want to go to sleep.” She curled up sideways and rested her face against the seat.

  He leaned back, his eyes lifted to the ceiling. “Still too keyed up from the game, I guess.”

  “You did a great job, Garrett. Your pitching has been top-notch.”

  He turned so that his cheek lay on the headrest, his forehead an inch from hers. Her pulse skittered. A slight move and their lips would touch. Not that they could kiss on a bus full of players, even if more than half were asleep and they were in the last row.

  “Thanks.” His voice lowered to a husky whisper that did something funny to her heart. “Your advice made the difference.”

  “And all your hard work,” she insisted. “Smythe says you haven’t missed a day of the pitching program. He wishes he could sleep in sometimes with his bad hip and all, but you’re always there waiting for him.”

  He searched her eyes. “When I make a promise, I keep it.”

  If only she knew that was true. He’d vowed to work hard at never drinking again. She’d give anything to believe him, to trust her feelings and follow her heart.

  She couldn’t deny it. She’d fallen for Garrett.

  Maybe it was his troubled past that reminded her of her own. Or his drive to make up for it with his present. It could be the warm way he looked at her, like he understood an unknowable part of her and cared. Whatever it was, she felt closer to him than anyone in her life. Yet circumstances couldn’t keep them farther apart.

  “How are things going?” Garrett surprised her by asking. A change of topic. Good idea.

  “The team is good. The baseball camp is doing well. Fans are finally coming back. Even Holly Springs is getting some commerce. Overall, great.”

  He considered her, his eyes delving into hers. “I meant personally.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are things working out with your mom?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing the conversation had taken a different direction.

  “If by working out, you mean she does her stuff and I do mine, then yes.” She opened her eyes to peer at him. “I guess.”

  His brows rose. “So you haven’t tried to talk things out?”

  “Why would we?”

  A burst of air escaped him, and his chest rose and fell. “I would have given anything for a parent. Seems right to work things out with the one you have left.”

  His words swarmed around her, biting.

  “She can’t replace my father.”

  Garrett inclined his forehead so that they touched, his skin warm.

  “No one can take his place. But your mother’s trying to help you. She got the pros down here for an alumni signing night, lets veterans in for free on weekend games, holds after-hours concerts...overall, the actions of someone who wants this as much as you do. Considering that, our improved record and the baseball camp, you two make a good team. Like it or not.”

  She didn’t like it, though deep down she knew it was true.

  “We’re better off apart. As long as I hear from her only through emails and phone calls, I can handle it.” She moved back a bit, his proximity making her stomach jump and flutter.

  “You’re going to have to hash it out one day.”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “So that’s your strategy? Cut out anyone who might hurt you?” His voice rose slightly. She glanced around at the still snoozing players before turning back.

  “It’s the way I learned to survive.”

  “How about living?”

  Her eyes stung. When was the last time she’d done anything for the simple enjoyment of it? For as long as she could remember, everything had had a purpose. To keep her mom healthy, to impress her father, to save the Falcons... When had she just existed in the moment? Heat crept up her neck as she recalled Garrett’s kiss at Looking Glass Falls. That had been pure, thoughtless pleasure.

  Something they couldn’t repeat.

  “What about you?” She pulled back slightly, her tone accusing. “What do you do for fun?”

  He ran a knuckle over his upper lip, his expression pained. “Fun’s not an option for me.”

  “Why not?” Heather pressed. “You should get out. Make the most of this second chance.”

  His quiet words pierced her. “What’s the point when you have no one to share it with?”

  You could share it with me.

  Just as quickly as the thought came to her, she brushed it away. If his words were intended to make a point, they hit the mark. She pulled out her blanket and scooted to the edged of her seat. Withdrew. “I think I am tired.” She was beyond caring if the move looked suggestive; she needed space.

  Disappointment flashed in Garrett’s eyes. He didn’t dwell on her comment, however. Instead, he tucked the cloth higher around her shoulders.

  “We both are.”

  * * *

  “ONE CINNAMON DANISH and a double double.” A smiling woman with a long gray braid passed Heather her breakfast order. “Have a nice day.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Mapes.” Heather dropped her change into the tip jar and turned, bumping into a slight woman behind her.

  “So sorry,” Heather exclaimed, tightening her grip on her cup of coffee. “I didn’t know anyone was—” Her words trailed off when she met her mother’s wide eyes. “Oh.”

  “It’s nice to see you, Heather. In fact, I was planning on mailing some paperwork for you to sign, but this will save me the trouble.” Her mother pointed to an envelope under her arm. “Will you wait a moment?”

  “May I help you?” Mrs. Mapes, the owner of Cupa Java, looked expectantly from Heather to her mother, no doubt noting their resemblance and recalling their dramatic history—past and present. Heather held in a sigh. The proprietor lived to gossip. Was practically the town crier and more informed than the local newspaper. If Heather left in anger, the news would spread fast. It was bad enough she’d reacted so strongly after the lawyer’s meeting. She wouldn’t give the public anything else to speculate about. Especially when it came to the Falcons.

  “I’ll be over here.” Heather pointed to a small, marble-topped round table beside the door, then sat. The nearby exit comforted her.

  After Heather added a third cream to her coffee and scalded her tongue with an impatient taste test, her mother joined her.

  “Nice to see you, Renee!”

  Heather’s mom returned the owner’s wave and sat across the table, her eyes crossing.

  “Apparently Mayor Watson is out of the office for heel spur surgery, and Peggy Carlton’s husband visited the fertility clinic in Raleigh this week.” Her mom twisted her slipping hair back into a bun and sighed. “Really? Do we need to know these things before we’ve eaten?”

  Heather held in a laugh. Her mom was right. Breakfast at Cupa Java came with a side order of rumors and scandal. Still. She wasn’t here for a Hallmark moment with her parent. No bonding was about to happen. Just scribbling her name on whatever paper her mother had and beating it out of here.

  “You said you had something for me to sign?” She fought to keep the resentment out of her voice, especially now that Mrs. Mapes approached. With no other customers, the owner pulled out a broom and swept it slowly around the spotless floor beside their table.

  Could she be more obvious?

  Heather avoided her mother’s laughing eyes and bit into her Danish. The sticky, sweet glaze melted on her tongue, and she chased it with her coffee. Not in a million years would she have believed she’d be breakfasting with her mother. Apparently it wasn’t having an effect on her appetite. She had the pastry down to half when her mother produced the paperwork.

  “I need your signature to approve these purchases.”

  Her mother ran down a very practical list of equipment and other acquisitions that were long overdue for replacement.

&
nbsp; “Did Reed and Smythe take a look at this?” Heather asked, her eyes running over the inventoried items and prices. How could her mother have identified all of these needs on her own?

  “Of course. We’ve been holding those weekly meetings. It’d be wonderful if you’d stop in.”

  “I’ll stick to emails, thanks,” Heather said dryly, pitching her voice low. The proprietor, blast her, now carefully wiped the sparkling tabletops beside them. What Heather would give to really say what she thought...

  Her mother sucked in her lower lip and nodded, her features composed. “Of course.”

  Heather scrawled her name on a few pages, then stopped on the last.

  “You’re booking a party planner to celebrate the Falcons getting into the playoffs?”

  Her mother lowered her coffee and nodded. “We’re going to clinch a spot.”

  “Mom!” Heather leaned forward when her rising voice brought Mrs. Mapes’s head around. “You can’t know that.”

  “I can bet on my daughter. Have faith. You and the Falcons have had an incredible month. You’ll pull this off.”

  Heather stared at her mother, incredulous. Her pupils looked normal-size, her eyes shining but not glassy. When she spoke, her words were crisp, not slurred. It didn’t seem like she was using pills... Could this inflated certainty be genuine? After years of harping from her father, it was hard to take in.

  “And what if we don’t?” Heather’s eyes smarted when she thought of how hard they’d all worked to turn the team around.

  “Then we’ll have an end-of-the-season party. You’ll deserve it. What do you say?”

  “We still need to conserve costs,” Heather grumbled, liking the idea but unwilling to give. She sensed that if she did, she might slip right back into becoming that trusting girl who did whatever her mother told her, including getting into the car that fateful day.

  Her mother waved a hand. “This is my money. You just need to approve its allocation. Please sign, Heather.”

  The industrious barista gave up all pretense and simply stared at them, a dishrag dangling from her hand.

  Trapped. To say no sent the message that she and her mother weren’t working as a team. Signing would encourage her mother to plan more of these get-togethers. Lose-lose. But when it came to her mom, Heather never won.

  She scrawled her name across the line and stood. “Enjoy the rest of your day,” she said as graciously as she could, conscious of their avid audience.

  Her mom’s hand alighted on hers before she could escape. Despite everything, Heather’s heart skipped a beat. It’d been a long time since she’d felt her mother’s touch. “You too. Have a good one, sweetheart.”

  Heather forced her feet out the door, wondering why they dragged with each step.

  Did a part of her want to stay?

  Impossible.

  Yet she couldn’t explain her smile...or the way her hand tingled long after her mother let go.

  * * *

  “SQUARE YOUR HIPS to the plate,” Garrett urged the next day as Levi stood on the mound, his glove to his chest. “Push hard off the rubber.”

  “There’s too much to remember,” Levi protested, dropping his arm and rubbing it.

  “If you do it often enough, your muscles will remember so your brain can do the thinking.”

  Levi laughed. “Hah! Muscles having memory. Good one, Mr. Wolf.”

  “It’s true.” Garrett pulled a ball from his pocket and tossed it to Levi without warning. The boy caught it and looked up at him in surprise. His freckles seemed to have multiplied under the midday sun.

  “See.” Garrett smiled. “You didn’t have to think to catch that, did you? Your muscles knew what to do. It’s instinctive.”

  Levi nodded. “You’re right.”

  “So let’s keep practicing. Eventually this is going to feel as natural as riding a bike.”

  “I never rode a bike.”

  Now it was Garrett’s turn to stare in disbelief.

  “Never?”

  “None of the foster families let me near them once they read my record about running away. At the group home, we only have the backyard. Never had a chance to learn.”

  Garrett’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t meant to get close to Levi. Wished like anything he hadn’t, but something about this kid, his tough life and need for someone to believe in him made him impossible to ignore.

  “That ends now. Get your stuff.”

  Levi looked around the empty ball field. Like usual, he’d gotten special permission to stay longer and work on specific skills with Garrett.

  “Am I in trouble?” he asked in a small voice.

  For some reason, that irritated Garrett more. He knew what it felt like to have people assume the worst.

  “No, kiddo. We’re riding bikes.”

  Levi’s eyes widened. He bounced on his toes, excited. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Now hurry up before I change my mind.”

  Garrett strode out of the stadium, Levi hot on his heels.

  “Where are we getting the bikes?”

  “The team has some in the training room,” he replied once he’d crossed into the cool, shadow-filled tunnel. Since Levi was tall for his age, he could handle an adult-size bike.

  Levi tugged on Garrett’s shirt. “Where are we riding?”

  “The skate park.” He ushered his charge into the locker room.

  “The big one in Holly Springs?” Levi pranced ahead of Garrett, his face bright with excitement.

  “Yes.”

  “But that’s just for skateboards.”

  Garrett shrugged as he pulled open the training room door. “They have a bike path there.”

  Levi stopped short as Garrett lifted the bikes off their hooks.

  “What if I fall and look stupid?”

  “I’ll laugh at you.”

  A snort escaped Levi. They each wheeled a bike outside and down to Garrett’s car. He reached for his keys and came up empty.

  “What’s wrong?” Levi’s anxious eyes took in Garrett’s frown.

  Garrett forced a smile. He wouldn’t let anything stop their outing. “Left my keys in the locker room. But I always keep a spare set here.” He reached for the magnetic box beneath his car and pulled out another set.

  “See?” He dangled the keys. “All set.” After opening the trunk and shoving the bikes in as far possible, he tied the top to the bumper with string, securing it. He glimpsed a familiar brown bag, the whiskey he’d yet to throw out. What was he waiting for? He knew he played with fire, keeping it in there, not telling his sponsor, AA group members, Heather...but whenever he went to get rid of it, something stopped him. A low hum of warning that urged him to wait until he was sure that this incredible direction his life had taken wouldn’t swerve off course. He had no intention of drinking, but somehow he couldn’t pour the bottles out, either.

  A snuffling sounded behind him and he turned, catching Levi wiping his eyes.

  “Hey, bud. What’s going on? Change your mind? Would you rather go home?”

  He watched as the boy’s shoulders rose, his body tightening all over.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Levi said, his voice defiant.

  “Do what?”

  “Be nice to me just because I’m a foster kid.”

  His words slid between Garrett’s ribs, slicing him.

  “I’m not.” He stepped close and put a hand on Levi’s bony shoulder. “You’re a great kid. Who wouldn’t want to hang out with you?”

  “No one would.” Levi kicked a piece of gravel. “Not superstars like you.”

  “This one does.” Garrett angled his head, trying to catch Levi’s eye. “Besides, I’m counting on you falling to make me laugh.”

  Levi guffawed and lifted his face, his expression relaxing. “Thank you, Mr. Wolf.”

  “It’s Garrett.”

  The boy threw his thin arms around Garrett’s middle. “Garrett,” Levi murmured, holding on tight.

  Garre
tt’s heart jumped. He squeezed Levi back, remembering his last hug with Manny, then opened the passenger door before scooting around the car to slide into the driver’s seat. He started the engine and headed into town, his eyes on the road, his mind inward.

  Was he taking a risk, letting himself get this close to another troubled kid? Maybe. But Levi eased his pain over Manny. He could shower the boy with the attention he wished he’d given his foster brother. The wound would never heal, but it was more bearable.

  He wanted to be a part of Levi’s life. Planned to stay in touch when he moved to the Majors. Levi wouldn’t think Garrett had given up on him. The more time he spent with the boy, the more he believed that he could have a real human relationship. One that didn’t end in tragedy.

  Could that be possible with Heather, as well?

  A sign flashed by. Holly Springs, 10 Miles.

  Amazing how much he’d come to care for this sleepy town and the incredible woman determined to save it and the Falcons. How could he convince her to trust that he wouldn’t fall off the wagon? She’d said she’d always wait for the day he slipped. He shook his head.

  It was impossible.

  Especially given the bottles lurking in his trunk. She’d never understand that.

  If only his brain could convince his heart to stop wanting her so much. He looked forward to being around her each day. Needed to, if he was honest. If he went to the Majors, he’d rarely see her. The thought rattled around the lonely space inside him.

  He nodded along, his mind still full of Heather, as Levi chattered excitedly beside him.

  Once he would have considered sobriety impossible, but he’d conquered that. A second chance at a professional baseball career had seemed even more out of reach. Yet here he was, getting scouted by his home team, the Falcons one win away from clinching a spot in the playoffs, his bronze AA coin still untarnished, despite his close call.

  If he could manage all of that, why doubt that he could have something even more important? Heather. Every conversation they had, small or big, touched him deeply. Laid him bare. She’d come to mean a lot to him. He couldn’t imagine his future without her. His fingers tightened on the wheel as he steered them into the skate park.