“That’s a lot going on in your head.” I steal a bite of her cake and think about what she’s just shared. “Emma, your momisspecial to me. So are you. Being in Arizona or Seattle or on the road is not going to change those feelings. But you’re totally right about the timeline and I’m sorry. When I told you my plan, I meant it. Then my agent and my new boss had a meeting and they think a little extra time to prepare before the rest of the team shows up would be good.”
“It’ll be weird not having you at school too.”
“I know.” Teaching will always be a bizarre chapter from a time I felt the world was over. My brain doesn’t associate it with positive feelings overall, but today I told the kids about my contract with the Seafarers and I saw their faces. Some ofthem thought knowing a pro baseball player was better than being in the same room as Taylor Swift. Still, there were some who genuinely looked shocked. My little group—Jonah, Ian, Blake—told me they’d never have paid up their bets in peanut butter M&M’s if they knew I was just going to leave them before the year was out.
“What if I don’t like the new P.E. teacher?” She stabs her cake.
“You might like them more than you like me—I bet they’ll even let you make up the mile run without making your mom mad.”
She pops a piece into her mouth and chews. “That’s true. I’ve never met anybody as dumb as you.”
The couch callsmy name like a runner heading toward home plate. I hobble over and lower myself into it, releasing an elongated, dramatic, “Ahhhhh.”
“Are you still that sore?” Nola calls from the kitchen. Where I lie, I can’t see her but I hear the opening of boxes and the arranging food on plates.
“Woman, whatever sorcery that was would take down the fiercest villains on the planet.” I reach for the fireplace remote and push a few buttons until the flames roar to life, illuminating the living room in a soft glow.
“We went snowshoeing, Maxford. A pair of twin four-year-olds passed us on the trail.” She laughs at my distress and walks into the room with a tray of all my favorites from Gin and Bear It. I’m greeted to nachos and mozzarella sticks, burgers and fries. Foods I haven’t tasted in what feels likemonths. They are going to be worth the heartburn and acid reflux for sure. “Oooh, good song.”
Charged with playing DJ, the Spotify channel I picked started us off with Band of Horses’ “No One’s Gonna Love You.” She sits on the couch and sets the tray between us. I pick up a curly fry and point it at her. “I’ve never done winter sports, and you did not warn me I’d be utilizing muscles I’ve never met before.”
Her adorable face tries and fails to look sympathetic. “You literally walk with funny shoes on. That’s it.”
“There were hills. A few were even steep.”
A hand flies to her chest. “I’m so sorry for being the world’s worst fake wife and single-handedly ruining your big comeback. I’ll be sure to send thoughts and prayers to your GM as he navigates how to deal with you.”
She reaches behind her to produce a large bottle of ibuprofen from off a side table. Tossing it to me, she says, “Here. Good thing I’m getting rid of you. This has been a fascinating glimpse into your pain threshold from the man who calls himself a ball player. Luckily, you’ll be the Seafarer’s problem soon.”
I move the tray to the coffee table, wrestling Nola into my arms. “That’s all it takes?” I nestle my nose into the crook of her neck as she squeals and plant a kiss on her collarbone. “I’m a little whiny after a day in the mountains and you’re packing me off to spring training without looking back?”
She levels her gaze to mine. “A little whiny is how Emma behaves when she wakes up five minutes past her alarm because she hits snooze by accident. This is next level. You could barely climb the three-step ladder to change Stella’s lightbulb without grimacing.”
“You know what? I like this. It’s a lot easier to leave mywife when she’s making fun of me.” I unhook my arms from her and start to place her back in her spot when she latches on, arms around my neck like her life depends on it.
“I take it back!” she cries, tightening her grip.
I pretend to push away. “Nope. I know when I’m not wanted.”
Her arms hold on, threatening to squeeze me to death. “I hate that you’re leaving. I’m being mean because it’s easier than being sad. I’ve been sad enough in my life.” Her body stills and so does mine. Her voice goes quiet. “I think saying goodbye to you is going to be the hardest thing I’ll have ever done. And I don’t mean when you get on the plane tomorrow. In a few months when we decide it’s time to go our separate ways . . . I can’t even think about it right now.”
“Here’s the thing: I’m not going anywhere, Nola. I don’t have the answers for how it’s going to work exactly. My schedule is going to be busy, but that’s only part of the year and I’m only playing for five more years. Then I get to retire on my terms and I’ll go wherever you are. Here, New York City, Paris. I can live anywhere. If you look deep into your heart and decide what you really want out of life is to be a Ben Franklin impersonator and move to Philly, I’ll be there with a kite and key.”
“And what would you do?”
“I have a history degree and a pirate costume. The options are literally endless, Adler.”
“You don’t mean it.”
“I do. There will be no stopping me when it comes to being with you.” I mean it wholeheartedly. I’d go to the ends of the earth for this woman. “What is it going to take for you to realize you’re never getting rid of me?”
“You’re going to change your mind once you’re back onyour own. We’ve been living in a curated, make-believe world and once you’re back in reality, doing the thing that makes you most happy, you’ll realize it doesn’t include a mom and a kid.”
I lean my forehead against hers and close my eyes. Lavender shampoo tickles my nose. I can’t get enough of it. “We need to let that crap go.”
She chuckles. “I’m sorry?”
“We both have some deeply seated and, potentially, rightfully earned misconceptions of ourselves thanks to our pasts. We need to let it go.” I feel her relax in my arms. “I need you to trust me when I say I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”
