“That’s good, that’s good.” I don’t know if he is reassuring himself or me. “What about the resort?”
“They are closing down some of the restaurants and amenities on property but aren’t making us leave. How are things there?” I didn’t want to rehash my current situation again. Dad worried when I traveled, especially if I wanted to go somewhere alone. It wasn’t easy to escape the public eye. Past trips have not been as smooth as Belize has been so far. Well, except the whole getting stranded part.
“A bit up in the air. The association and the league are working out arrangements and a schedule but no news yet. We can’t even have group or team practices. The facilities were open for a bit but we’ve had to close those too.”
“Damn, I’m sorry.” A Mike Crenshaw without baseball was not someone I knew. He has no life outside of the sport. I can only imagine the effect this shutdown will have on him.
“It’s nuts. I’ve never seen anything like this. Restaurants and bars are closing. I’m a little worried about what this means for the town. Without baseball and tourism, it could get dicey for some people.”
“I worry about that for the cast and crew too. What is the team doing?”
“I told them to go home or do whatever they do but to stay near the phone and stay in shape. One of the dumbasses went on fucking vacation. He better not get stuck like you are.”
All the puzzle pieces fall into place at once. “Oh no. That would be very, very bad…for him.” I try to keep my voice and face even as I struggle to hide the awareness his words created.
Oh my God, Preston is Preston Fields. My dad’s player.
“Oh yeah. His ass is grass when he gets back. That’s for fucking sure.” I laugh out loud, keeping the part. Dad smirks on the other end. He doesn’t play games when it comes to baseball. His players know that.
“You pretend you don’t cuss and then get to talking about your players and the bombs start flying.” I try to keep my composure but my mind is reeling.
Dad laughs. “Those boys get me riled up more than anything. You know that.”
“I know, but you love it.”
“I do.”
“Hopefully you’ll get back on the field soon.” Just not too soon.
His face grows serious. “You be careful out there, you hear me?”
“I will.”
“I mean it. Pay attention to your surroundings. Make a plan. I worry about you, but you can take care of yourself. Let me know when you know more about your plans, okay?”
“Thanks, Dad. I love you.” My eyes mist a little. At least someone believes in me.
“Love you too. Bye, bug.”
“Bye, Dad.”
Hanging up, I try to process this new discovery but I don’t have the headspace to worry about Preston Fields. I have enough on my plate.
I refocus my attention to where the water meets the sky. I can do this. Everyone said I needed a reset. Now I would get a true and proper reset, and maybe more independence in the process.
With my luck, the world may implode first.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Preston
March 21
I’ve been at the resort for a full week now. The adventure is nice, but the solitude is wearing on me. I haven’t seen Ivory since our walk a few days ago. Not for lack of trying. I walked down the beach and visited the pool a few times but no dice.
Walking around the corner of the villa to reach the lower platform, I catch movement from Ivory’s villa. I quirk my head when I hear faint noises. Stepping closer, I see limbs flailing from the hammock on Ivory’s deck. I smother a laugh as I watch her try to extract herself. One leg dangles over the side feeling for the wood planks. She tries to sit up to bring her other leg down but ends up rolling out of the hammock.
Unable to stop myself, I bark out at laugh. Ivory’s wide eyes meet mine under a curtain of hair.
