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Adventure
SUTTON
“Sutton!”I hear a voice shout over the sound of the crowd and the season-end celebration on the field. “Duckling!”
I’m used to hearing my name called when I’m on the field, it hasn’t happened for a while where I’ve been catcalled or heckled by a fan, usually from the opposing team, but that comes with a certain tone of voice. This voice is familiar. This is a voice that I’d recognize anywhere. And there’s only one person who calls me Duckling.
I turn around and scan the thinning crowd and then I see him.
His beard is a little longer, his hair is a little shaggier, and wow is it strange to see him in a stadium wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, but there he is. My Maxwell.
I love baseball movies. I especially love baseball rom-coms, even when the baseball itself is less than accurate. There’s always this moment at the end, when the hero has hadtheirmoment, or the team has won it all, that the hero scans the crowd and finds their girl in the stands. He runs to her and sometimes jumps into the stands himself – not so easy now that we have safety nets that stretch from foul pole to foul pole – and he sweeps her into his arms.
I’ve always kind of wondered about those moments in the movies; why run to her? Why not wait until you’re both in the parking lot or on the sidewalk. Shower and change out of your sweaty, smelly uniform instead of grabbing her and kissing her after you’ve just finished nine innings of baseball. But when I see him standing there my heart stutters and I want to get to him as quickly as I can.
I told Maxwell when thisthingbetween us first started that I could never be his girl in the stands, but I never imagined that he’d be mine. For just a brief moment I turn out to the field, the city in the distance. I never imagined that I’d behere,and ifthisdream can come true, then so can any other dream.
I run to him.
Through the access doors behind home plate, I climb not so gracefully over the concrete partition and railing that separates me from Maxwell. My momentum carries me right into him, like running into a brick wall. A brick wall in a well-worn, soft sweatshirt fraying a bit at the neckline. Cupping his face in my hands I crush my lips to his. Maxwell wraps his arms around me and deepens the kiss. I breathe him in. The familiar scent of soap and leather and coffee. His arms tighten around me and the world around us fades away.
“Maxwell,” I break the kiss, catching my breath. “I love you. I want a future with you. I should have told you that before you left that day. I want a future with you, wherever it leads us. I just want to be yours. Forever.”
“Forever?”
“Yes. Forever. I’ve had enough time without you to know that I don’t want that ever again.”
“Forever starts tonight.” He pushes the brim of my cap up and leans down, giving me a quick peck against my lips. “Go change into something comfortable. I went home and Elise helped me pack you a bag. We’re going on an adventure.”
I don’t ask questions.
I don’t have to ask questions with Max, because I know I can trust him.
I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him in for one last kiss before quickly making my way through the tunnels and hallways under the stadium to my office, where I shed my uniform and haphazardly toss it in the laundry cart nearby. The most comfortable clothes I have with me are my workout leggings and the long sleeve tee shirt that I stole from Maxwell but, somehow, I don’t think he’ll mind.
Normally on the last night of the season I take my time, carefully closing up my office, packing up a few things to bring home. Roger always gifts his staff with a line-up card from a game he thinks is significant for us – mine is from the night I was his bench coach – and I always hang it in my office and then find a place for it at home, but it doesn’t sound like I’m going home tonight. I can worry about my office later.
I step into the clubhouse with every intention of making quick rounds and saying goodbye to my players, but something tells me to take it slow. To take my time with them. I go from stall to stall, talking to my guys, wishing them the best for the off season. Nico gives me a hug that leaves me in tears, and then Luis Perez hits me with the gut punch.
“Thank you for a great year, Coach. I’m sorry for the way I acted at the start of the season, and I’m so thankful to have you as a coach. I’m not a patient person, but you’ve helped me with that.”
“I appreciate that, Luis.”
When I get to Roger’s office, he’s wrapping up his press conference and I hang in the back until he’s finished.
“Sutton,” he wraps me in a warm hug, “it’s been a joy to have you on my staff.”
“Roger, do you know something I don’t?” I ask, pullingaway and looking him square in the eye, but his expression gives nothing away.
“Just…trust your gut, okay?”
“Okay.”
When I walk out of the clubhouse, I find Maxwell waiting with Jerome’s family. He’s crouched down at eye level with Moriah as she animatedly tells him a story and I think about what it would be like to come out of this tunnel to find him waiting with our own kids, something we haven’t talked about yet, but we should. We will. We have forever in front of us.
“You ready to go?” Max stands to his full height, wincing a bit as he does, and takes my hand in his. I look around one last time, memorizing the tunnel and the clubhouse and the faces of the staff, wondering if I’ll be here next year. “Sutton?”
“Yeah. Yeah…I think I’m ready.”
