The mascot handler moves Molly away from me, and then the game begins immediately after the ceremony. There’s no chance to find her, and when the game ends that day, she’s long gone from the ballpark.
My chest feels hollow in a funny way, like I’m sad we can’t debrief together on how weird that was. That thing we did. That time we got fake married at home plate.
That time I almost made Molly my wife.
And when I drive the short distance to my rented condo, the little house I stay in for the short spring training season, Sinclaire and Silas are waiting for me.
She has video of the entire thing, and she’s shocked when I’m willing to sit through replay after replay.
“That was a really fun thing you did, Dad,” she says as I watch it again, her toddler climbing on my back.
Fun?
It was something.
“If your husband would just come back to play for me, I wouldn’t have to do things like this to fill the seats,” I grumble.
She just laughs.
And for the first time in my life, I fully understand why it was easy for him to retire without a second glance back when we’d just won the World Series. Because Trick doesn’t need baseball anymore.
But I’m all alone, and when she flies back to Wyoming, baseball will be literally all that I have.
CHAPTER 6
MOLLY
I go back to the city after the wedding. The team doesn’t have a budget for employees like me to stay on the coast with the baseball team during spring training, and there’s a lot of work to be done at the office in anticipation of our official season opener.
I spend weeks milking the video of Coach Rosehill marrying me—I mean,Captain Citrus—on social media. Fans who are grumpy to have missed out on the chance to get married alongside their favorite coach are thrilled to buy or upgrade their season ticket package to include a breakfast with him instead. We have a waiting list of people who want to be in on the wedding event next year already.
And then just before the regular season begins and the team is set to return, I get an official-looking envelope from the county clerk’s office.
CHAPTER 7
JEFF
After a month of getting used to this year’s roster, shifting people around a bit and trying out a lot of guys we’ve pulled up from the minors, I’m feeling cautiously optimistic going into our season opener.
Not that I’m letting anyone know that. Not just yet.
Everyone is getting a lot of good-natured mileage out of the wholeCoach is a newlywedjoke, which is good fun until I growl, and it’s important that I growl semi often so they remember who’s boss. So they all live in fear of being sent back down if they don’t perform to the major league standard.
But secretly, I think that we might have ourselves a ball team this year.
And I find myself wanting to share that news with Molly.
When I get to the stadium, the airconditioning in the team’s office is a blessing after the extra-warm spring day outside. Helen is waiting for me with an iced coffee and the bobblehead the team is giving away to the first ten thousand fans today.
Or more specifically, the bobbleheads, plural, because the figurine is me dipping my brand-new spouse, Captain Citrus.
“Oh Jeez,” I mutter, my cheeks turning hot.
“I think it’s sweet,” Helen says matter-of-factly. “And some people have already arrived early to get them.”
“That’ll be good for hotdog sales.”
“And beer sales, more to the point.”
