I sat on the sofa wondering if I could leave her this way.Probably best if I waited until she passed out.
What if Vinny needed something in the night?Looks like I was stuck here for a while.
She collapsed next to me on the sofa.The areas where her thigh touched mine ignited a fire I knew it best to ignore.
Her head rolled my way.“Losing Dad sucks.I didn’t know Hope well.”
“She was a nice lady.”I dropped my chin.“Everything is so messed up now that they’re gone.”
“I don’t get it,” she murmured, blinking hard.“Why they died.Whynow?”She reached out and brushed a strand of hair off my forehead, sending a bolt of tingles down my face.I jerked back on instinct.She leaned away a little too far, squinting at me like she was trying to refocus.
“Tonya said my father helped you when you…you know, crashed and burned in undergrad.”Her words wobbled together, not slurred but definitely loosened.“So, what happened with baseball?Why’d you quit?It was your love… Yourlife.It mattered more to you than anything.”
“It gave up on me.Sophomore year in college, I hurt my arm after a game.I had to have Tommy Johns surgery.”I pulled up my sleeve to show her the scar.“The coach cut me after that even though I swore I could be back after physical therapy.”
“Why didn’t you fight to play?”
“I screwed up in my personal life at school.Not with women, but with partying.That played a big part in Coach’s decision.”I sagged to rest my head on the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling.Maybe I should’ve fought harder.No one had cared if I kept playing, not my parents or friends.No one who mattered showed up to my games in college anyway.“The team had other catchers to take my spot.They cut my scholarship.”I sighed and threw an arm across my eyes.“Coach said they didn’t need me on the team.It was a pretty solid boot in the ass.”
“You could’ve transformed…transferred schools.Something like that, right?”
“I spent the summer after I got cut in a dark place.I ended up in jail twice for starting bar fights.Then I crashed my car.The day I got out of the hospital, your dad showed up, believe it or not.He sat with me in his truck, talking.Said that if I wanted baseball, I should go after it.Then he pulled out some proverb from the Dad Handbook: ‘If wishes were horses, beggars could ride.’Still not totally sure what it means, but it sounded wise.”
A loud laugh shook her body.“Dad loved to spew stupid sayings.”
I chuckled more at her laugh than the fact her dad said stupid things like that.“He gave me a job as a kennel hand with a promise I’d always have a job waiting for me.A month of working at his clinic made me realize that was what I wanted to do.I got my school loans figured out and went back in the fall.I gave up baseball.”
“How great of him to help you.”A huge bite of sarcasm tinged her words.Softly she said, “He never believed in me like that.”
“He didn’t have to.”
“He gave up on me when he found Hope.”She waved an overzealous hand-chop gesture.“More like gave me the cut.I was old news and outta his life.”
I caught my breath when she traced the muscles in my arm.
She asked, “Don’t you miss baseball?”
I miss it like an open wound in my soul.I gazed sightlessly above her head.“I go down to Independence Park at night sometimes and throw a few pitches.”I’d also built my own batting cage in my backyard where I hit every night, not that I’d admit that out loud.
“Maybe you can join a league for old men?”
“I’m not old.”
“You are now.”She wagged a finger that didn’t quite stay steady.“We’re just a few sneezes shy of thirty.Practically over the hill and already rolling down the other side.”She gave a dramatic sigh.“There’s gotta be some grown-up baseball team you can join.Or you could still try out for the pros.”
“I’m not that good anymore.I’m not even sure my knees would let me do it.”
“Such a whiny baby,” she said, then immediately dropped into a dramatic, nasally impersonation.“My knees hurt.My arm had surgery.” She rolled her eyes and slipped back into her normal voice.Well, as normal as she got when she was buzzed.“If it’s your dream and you want it in here…” She poked a finger over my heart, a little harder than necessary.“Then fight for it.Fight for your passion before you can’t do it for real anymore.We both have to.’Cause if we don’t what do we even have?”
My passions…
“Dreams change.”I stared at her lips.“What passion are you fighting for?”
But she didn’t answer.Instead, she murmured, almost to herself, “Does Milly kiss as good as me?”Her eyes slid down, slow and deliberate, landing exactly where she wanted them to.“Is she as good as me when her mouth’s on you?”
The words hit like a punch.
Two thoughts crashed into me at once.
