by Kristy Marie
I motion to the half-dead palm tree still sitting on my kitchen table. “Mac can’t even keep a house plant alive. You expect me to believe she’ll be able to work and keep an eye on you?” I want to ask him if Mac plans on picking up this monstrosity anytime soon, but I don’t. One issue at a time.
Pops shrugs. “I don’t need sunlight, just water. I think she can manage that while working, don’t you?”
Heaven help me. “No, actually. I don’t think she can manage.” Does he not remember Mac’s broken toe, dirty clothes, and skinned knees? If anything, Pops would have to look after her.
“Relax, Coop.” Brushing past me, Pops pats me on the shoulder as if I’m some puppy. “We’ll be fine.”
I can feel the anxiety rising. “What if you fall?” And I can’t get to you?
“What if you shit your pants on the mound?”
“Pops.”
“Cooper,” he mimics. “Just because I let you pretend to be the adult in this house, doesn’t mean you are. I’ve raised you from when you thought underwear was optional. The way I see it, you either let me hang out with Mac or call your brother who will chew both of our asses like the big ol’ bore he is.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” Surely, the old man isn’t stooping that low.
“Nope, just telling you the facts. Which is that you just fired poor Cynthia—” He looks at his watch. “—and are due on the field in twenty-two minutes.” He pauses, letting those issues sink in nice and low. “I’d say you’re out of options, sport.”
Unbelievable.
“Fine.” I all but growl, running a hand through my hair. “Grab your things.” Pops grins, and I point a finger at him. “But if Maverick asks, you had a great time with Cynthia at the park, and you will not, for any reason, leave Mac’s side.”
“Deal.”
“I’m sorry, what?” McKinley cups her ear with her hand. “Could you repeat that? I’m having a hard time hearing you over the crowd.”
This was the worst idea I’ve ever agreed to.
Narrowing my eyes, I try focusing on anything but McKinley’s tits as they push against the t-shirt sized too small. “The gates haven’t opened. There is no crowd.” More accurately, there won’t be crowds for another two hours.
Right now, players are dressing, doing pre-game meetings before batting practice. And vendors… well, they should be getting their carts prepped, but it seems like Mac is enjoying torturing me, so I’m late getting downstairs.
“Come on, Grumpy Grandson, let me have this little victory. How many people can say they saved The Closer?”
“Never mind.” I turn and bark at Pops that he can sit in the family box with some of the players’ wives. I don’t know them and haven’t even bothered making friends, but surely, the old man can woo them with his sarcastic charm.
A hand latches on to my arm. “Okay, I’m sorry. No more teasing. I can look after the old geezer.” She shrugs and flashes me a smile, revealing a dimple on the right side. “It’ll be like any other day except She-Devil won’t be side-eyeing me, chanting out spells.”
“She chants spells?” Who the hell did I hire?
McKinley, as bad as she is at asking for help, can’t hold in her laughter. “I’m joking about the spells, but the side-eye and bitch-face are true.”
“Did she ever say anything to you?”
Two brows arch. “Why?”
Why is right, Cooper? What do you care if Cynthia said something awful to Mac? She isn’t your friend.
“Just curious.”
Mac removes her hand from my arm, and I use the opportunity to secure my own hands in my pockets.
“I really appreciate you looking after Pops. I promise I’ll find a replacement soon.”
“It’s not a problem. Besides, I owe you both anyway.” Her voice seems less excited than when I walked up to her cart, practicing the word please the whole way. She made me say it six times before I got pissed off.
“We’re not keeping score.”
She hitches a shoulder, giving me her back as she walks behind the cart. “Sure we are. You helped me, and I don’t like being indebted to anyone, therefore, I am helping you to even the score.”
Why? Why is this his best friend? Why couldn’t it have been one of the other players’ fathers? Why is it this eccentric little spitfire that I want to spank and toss over my shoulder like a caveman?
“Go to work, Cooper. We’ll be fine.” She dismisses me with a wave of her hand that has me grinding my teeth. “I’ll bring Pops downstairs when the crowd clears.”
And for the first time since meeting her, I don’t argue, because… fuck! I can’t go into the locker room with a hard-on.
Pissed off doesn’t accurately describe what I’m feeling right now as I jog through the open corridors. Mac specifically said she would bring Pops down when the crowd cleared. Did she? No. Is Pops answering his phone so I can yell at him? No.
I knew leaving him with her was a terrible idea.
Rounding the terrace-level seats, I spot Mac’s cart, and of course, it’s empty.
“Are you fucking serious?” I shout into the empty stands.
“You looking for Mac?” I whip my head around and find a guy emptying the trash can. “She’s on the field.”
I glance to the open space, and I’ll be damned if it isn’t Pops stretched out on the grass, Mac next to him, as they eat what looks to be a Costco-sized tub of popcorn.
“Thanks,” I mutter, tipping my chin at, clearly, the most helpful person at the park today. “I appreciate it.”
I take the back corridor, which connects to another, before swiping my badge and entering the outfield where pain in the ass number one and two await me.
“Seriously, though. You shouldn’t have tripped him.”
I stop at the edge of the field at Mac’s laughter. “Had you not started babbling nonsense, I think he would have punched you.”
Pops takes a swig of his soda. “Nah, guys like him are all bark. He only wants to pick on pretty women, not crazy old men that would shove a bat so far up his ass, it’d tickle all that ear hair of his.”
Mac rolls on the ground, holding her stomach as she snorts every other breath in laughter. “I love you, old man.”
Pops grins at this mess of a woman. “Maybe next time he’ll think before he tries embarrassing you again.”
Wait, what? Who embarrassed Mac? And what in the fresh hell did Pops do to him?
I think it bears repeating that I knew leaving Pops and Mac together would be a disaster. And from what it sounds like, I could have been picking them up from security today instead of on the field, which is currently being littered with popcorn.
“Please tell me I’m not getting sued.” I advance toward the two troublemakers and they immediately sober.
“Oh, hey!”
I cock a brow, refusing to wave as she did.
“We were waiting for you—”
Pops chimes in. “And then I had to pee.”
“So we headed to the bathroom.”
“And got sidetracked by popcorn?” I add, filling in the rest of their story.
McKinley shoves the tub toward me. “It was freshly popped. They were going to throw it away if we hadn’t intervened.”
She shoves the bucket closer, and reluctantly, I dip my hand in and toss back a few pieces.
“Good, right?”
I nod but don’t admit that I almost moaned swallowing. How long has it been since I’ve indulged in empty carbs? Years? Hell, I can’t even remember, it’s been so long.
Dusting my hands off on my pants, I offer Mac a clean one and help her to her feet. “Thanks for keeping an eye on the old man.”
Pops mutters something about not being an infant that I ignore.
“I hate to ask you again, seeing as I’ll now owe you a debt, but would you mind—”
“Tomorrow isn’t a problem. I have to be here anyway and well…”
She looks at Pops and grins, sticking
out her hand, helping him up like I did for her. “Today was the best day I’ve had in a very long time.”
McKinley
One game turned into three. And I was loving every minute of spending my days with my best friend at my side. I’d even moved a chair behind the cart, so Pops and I could talk freely and heckle Cooper when he marched up to the mound all badass, like he didn’t get smacked on the back of the head daily.
For the first time since Griffin’s death, I felt like I had most of my old life back. But like any high, a low always follows, and today, mine swan-dived to its eternal death.
“I want to speak with your manager.”
A muscle in Ear Hair’s cheek twitches—I bet it’s an asshole too.
Inhaling, I raise my head and face him like the lady I’m not, signaling Pops not to approach with our Slurpees from the neighboring cart (Coop doesn’t need to know). “He’s not available.”
“You’re lying.”
True. I am lying, like a MOFO, ‘cause no one is in the mood to be fired today.
Ted, the owner, is a reasonable man, but not when someone is as loud as Ear Hair. His voice draws unwanted attention that Ted will have no other option than to deal with me. At least that’s what he’s said before. It’s about the company’s reputation apparently.
I take a deep breath and swallow back all the cuss words bubbling up in my throat. “Look, I apologize for your wait, but like I explained, we sold out of hot dogs.” I motion to the empty bin in front of Pops’s chair, where the hot dogs usually are. “If you could just be patient, our sister company is on the way with more.”
That’s reasonable, right? A few minutes wait? It’s not like he’s going to die in sixty seconds if he doesn’t get his wiener before the seventh inning.
A noise, much like a person who wants his ass whooped, hisses across the counter. “Get. Your. Boss. Now.” His fist bangs on the aluminum ledge.
I flinch, taking an extra second to steady my voice before I respond, “Okay, just a moment, please.”
Another moment.
He won’t wait on his hot dog, but he’ll wait on my boss so he can complain. That makes total sense, right?
I don’t know what I ever did to this guy to cause this much hatred, but I swear, if this was my stand, I’d have a big yellow sign that said, No assholes. Violators will be advised to go fuck themselves.
“Finally,” Ear Hair mutters to the guy behind him who, from the looks of it, hasn’t been paying attention. That’s a relief. The fewer people who witness my dismissal, the better.
“I just need to text him,” I tell Ear Hair, pulling my phone from my pocket and dialing, a wave of nausea hitting me like a Tsunami.
Oh no. Not now. Not in front of Jerk Face.
But it’s too late. Nothing, not even the palm slapped over my mouth stops the explosion of vomit that plows through my fingers, finding the most deserving target, and splattering the entire front of Ear Hair’s jersey.
“Are you fucking serious?”
I’m afraid so, Shit Head.
Chancing a look, Ear Hair’s face is red with fury. Dammit. “I’m so, so sorry. I’ve been sick and—”
Each word he forces out is laced with hatred. “Get. Your. Boss.”
Right. Ted. He’ll be seriously unimpressed with my customer service today. “Sure, I’ll be right back.”
Pushing away from the stand, I grab a paper towel and wipe my face before walking toward Pops. “I need you to stay in your seat and not move until Cooper calls for you, okay?” I don’t need Cooper pissed off at me too.
Pops wraps his arms around me, his hands still full of Slurpee, and squeezes. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo. Upchucking in that prick’s face was better than me tripping him any day.” He pulls back and eyes me seriously, his grin turning to one of concern. “Take this Slurpee. I’ll have a ginger ale waiting on you when you get back.”
I almost cry taking the drink, but I don’t because if I cry, it will upset Pops, and who knows what Pops would do to Ear Hair. And Cooper, he might actually need to worry about a lawsuit. No, I need Cooper and Pops calm. “Promise me you’ll wait for Cooper to come and get you?”
Tears sting the back of my eyes. I’m totally failing at this keeping Pops calm thing. “I need to go get my manager, but if I get—” I almost can’t get the words out. “If I get fired and can’t make it back, text Cooper to come and get you. Tell him I’m sorry.”
I don’t like making promises I can’t keep, and the thought of being fired and not seeing my best friend sends a rolling wave of unshed tears I have to fight to keep back. “You promise, don’t you?” I know he’s a stubborn ass.
“Yeah,” he says absently, looking over my shoulder at where I left Ear Hair covered in vomit. “I promise. You tell Ted to call me.”
I nod, but I would never involve Pops, who I’m sure intends to involve Cooper, to save my job. I know that sweet old man, and I can’t allow him or Cooper to stick their neck out for me like that. Again, I made this mess, and I will suffer the consequences, and in the process, not owe Cooper another favor. I like being ahead on the favor meter.
“I’d kiss you, but I’m afraid that would be utterly disgusting,” I tell Pops with a watery laugh. “How ‘bout an air-high-five instead?”
Pops doesn’t return the laughter. Instead, his gaze volleys between me and Ear Hair and the audience my projectile vomiting drew.
“You’re feeling better though?” he finally asks.
“Yeah, I am.”
In more ways than one. Even if I lose my job, the memory alone of Ear Hair’s mouth opening in shock as chunks of this morning’s pickle landed on his cheek will be worth it. He had it coming, and while I’d rather have seen him get puked on by someone else, I can live with just knowing he finally got what he deserved.
“Go get your boss, kid. I’ll still be here when you get back.” Pops says it so confidently, so sure that I won’t get fired, that I almost believe him.
“See ya later, old man.”
With one final look at my friend, I walk down the corridor to the management offices where I’m sure I’ll find Ted and a nice pink slip that will send me on my way. But at this point, I’m just going to roll with whatever happens. It isn’t like my life has been this exceptional story that I’ll one day tell my children. It’s just another day on Survival Island.
Pulling out my phone, I bring up my texts and type out a quick message to Cooper, who reluctantly gave me his number after the first day I kept an eye on Pops.
I might get fired. I made Pops promise to wait for you, but you know how he lies.
I don’t expect an answer. Cooper is out in the bullpen, waiting to see if they need him to pitch the last inning. So far, the Tides are up by four runs, so I doubt they’ll use him. Secretly, I hope he doesn’t have to go out tonight. He looked exhausted when he walked Pops to his seat earlier. I think he could use a week or so of sleep. Who knows, it might improve that crabby attitude of his.
At the manager’s office, I take a deep breath, readying myself to be ripped a new asshole while I literally take the walk of shame out of the ballpark since I still can’t afford to pay for Lu’s repairs.
You got this, Mac. You have control of how Ted makes you feel. Don’t give him the power to make you feel bad for upchucking on a man that deserved way more than that.
My phone buzzes, and I look down and see that Cooper actually texted me back during the game.
Why would you get fired?
Eh. That’s not a story I’d like to discuss over text.
Ear Hair is tired of me being prettier than him. It was inevitable. I text back, grinning, but he doesn’t let it go and fires off another response quickly.
I’ll find out one way or another, he threatens.
Do I care if Cooper finds out that I puked on Ear Hair?
No.
My bigger concern is him finding out why I puked in the first place. Not that I’m hiding my situation. I’m not. I’m
just not ready to admit what I did to put myself in this position to begin with.
A cold sweat of shame coats my skin as I stare at his text. I might not know Cooper as well as his grandfather, but I still have some dignity left, and I’d rather not admit to a man who made all the right life decisions that I’m a complete and utter fuck-up.
Inhaling, I look up at the sky and hope Griffin is up there, happier than he was here, then sigh, tapping out my response.
I’m sure you will, but not through me. Make sure you sneak out early so Pops doesn’t try pushing through bodies to get to you.
He doesn’t text me after that, and I’m glad. I need all the leftover energy to get through this discussion with Ted.
McKinley
Ted fired me.
Big time.
He even threw his drink against the wall. I can’t blame him. Someone caught the epic puke showdown on video, and it went viral before I even opened his office door to explain what happened.
Honestly, I expected it. Ear Hair is a loudmouth. Even if Ted had kept me around, Ear Hair would have just found another way to get me fired.
It’s fine.
I’ll be fine.
I’m sure I can find another job.
I used to waitress for a while before I started working at the stadium. I didn’t hate it, though my toe would after an eight-hour shift. But like Griffin always used to tell me, this too shall pass. Hopefully, though, it passes quickly, and I find a decent-paying job and health insurance. So far, all the jobs I’ve worked at didn’t offer healthcare coverage. It was okay since I stay pretty healthy, but now… Well, now, I probably need it.
That’s not entirely accurate. It’s not so much probably but more of a definitely need it type of thing.
But I’ll figure it out. I always do.
“Get in.” The deep and very pissed-off voice jerks me to a halt as the familiar black Audi screeches to a stop next to me. “Now.”
Leaning down, I glance through the window and find the scowling Closer.
“Did you get Pops?” I completely ignore that hate-glare and the order he barked out.