We all laugh.
“I didn’t know you professional athletes could even get nervous,” I say.
The other two snort, but Sean says, “Everyone gets nervous. That’s how you know you care.”
“That’s kind of precious,” I say. “I like the old diamond. It feels real. Romantic, even.”
Duke and Sonny laugh at this. “Nothing says romance like raccoon-infested dugouts,” Duke says.
I chuckle at that. My eyes wander over the field, at Fletch yelling something, at the team.
“You okay?” Sean asks
“Meh,” I say.
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not great,” I say. I pop the straw up on my water bottle and take a long drink as the Sandcats pitcher walks oneof the Mudflaps. “I just found out the town council’s planning to enforce an ordinance that says I have to be a Mullet Ridge resident to own the team. Evidently I had ninety days from the time of acquisition to get an address in the zip code. And Sugar Maple doesn’t count.”
“What?” The question explodes from Sean’s lips. He shakes his head. “That’s not the point of the ordinance.”
“The town council disagrees. Scottie heard through the grapevine that there’s going to be a meeting next week. If I can’t find some legal loophole by then, ownership of the team will transfer back to the MiLB until someone more suitable can buy it.”
Sean leans forward and fixes his whole attention on me. His brow is deeply furrowed behind his sunglasses, and he’s shaking his head in small, fast movements. “Kayla, there has to be some way for you to keep the team. They can’t just force a sale, can they?”
I watch one of our guys hit a single, and I clap along with the crowd. “Unless I can find a time machine or a husband with the right zip code, it sounds like they can.”
He sits back. “I’m sorry. Serena must have done this.”
“I thought it wasmyevil ex because he bought the Outlaws, but I think it might just be the town showing me how they really feel.” I say, a throbbing pain in my throat.
“What does your lawyer think?”
“I haven’t asked him yet. And I don’t know if I will.”
“Kayla, youhaveto. You can’t let anyone chase you away.”
His concern is sweet, but it does nothing to alleviate the deep sense of defeat and even sadness I feel.
I am not wanted.
Anywhere.
Though my most recent text from Meryl suggests otherwise. A video of her begging me to come to Phineas’s next soccer game. I’m more tempted than I care to admit.
“It’s not the end of the world. I didn’t grow up dreaming of owning a baseball team in a town that hates me. I have a job I can go back to and a family who actually likes me. I’ll be fine.”
I smile at Sean, but it’s heavy, and the effort to keep my cheeks up is harder than doing afouetté.
“Is that what youwant?”
“Does it matter?”
Sean looks at Duke and Sonny, then turns his gaze to the team. And the muscles in his face all shift. His eyebrows flatten, and his jaw hardens as something like resolve takes over him.
What on earth could he be resolving?
“Why don’t you come by the rink tonight? Some of my old teammates and I are running a scrimmage. And invite your team. Fletch, Scottie, whoever you want.”
