“What?!”
“Perhaps you are prejudiced.” Sam splayed his hands at his sides. “I can’t see any other reason why you’d be so dead set against Junior speakin’ Japanese. It’s a fine language. A little twangy, but as a southern woman, that shouldn’t be too difficult to get used to.”
Gwenyth’s nostrils flared to wicked proportions. “I. Have. Nothing. Against. Speaking. Japanese.”
“Baby, why is your face all red?” Sam clapped the back of his hand to his wife’s forehead to check for fever. “And you’re bitin’ your tongue. Good lord, there’s a tic in your cheek. What’s wrong, Cupcake?”
What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Where do I begin?!
Simply overwhelmed, Gwenyth drew in a ragged breath and exhaled it slowly. She could tell her husband that he was getting on her nerves. She could tell him to go away and leave her alone. But when she gazed into those true blue eyes and saw the love for her and their unborn baby burning so intensely there, she knew she had to continue to bite her tongue and say nothing. Gwenyth could only pray that her tongue wasn’t half gnawed off by the time spring training began. “I, uh, forgot to take my vitamins this morning.”
Sam clucked his tongue. He shook his head back and forth disapprovingly. “Gwenyth Marie, how will you get along when I’m out practicin’ on the field all day and can’t be here to make sure you do what’s right by you and our child?”
Gwenyth ground her teeth together. She could almost hear enamel grating against enamel. “I’m not certain.”
Sam placed eight more jars of baby food into the grocery cart. “Luckily for you, Gwen honey, I’ll be here to keep you in the habit of takin’ your vitamins and whatnot for the next two weeks.”
“Oh joy.”
“What was that?”
“I said oh joy, as in, what a relief.”
Sam scratched his chin as he considered that. “You’re lucky as I don’t know what to have a husband like me, Gwen.”
“I thank my lucky stars every night.”
* * * * *
Though she had begun to fear the time would never arrive, spring training eventually came to Tampa Bay. The Yankees practiced at Legends Field in Tampa and the Crusaders did their thing just across the bridge in St. Petersburg. The only team Gwenyth cared about, however, was the Crusaders, because it meant that her husband was out of her hair several hours every day. Oh she loved Sam, couldn’t live without him and wouldn’t want to try, but now she understood why spouses rarely worked together. They’d likely be divorced within the year.
Spring training also meant the return of Brian Goodman to Florida. A fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Candy. Gwenyth’s best friend always made certain they were never alone together in the same room. And poor Brian was as flustered as he could be over it. He knew Candy was attracted to him, but try as he might, Brian simply couldn’t penetrate her prickly defenses.
But then he got smart. It didn’t take Brian long at all to figure out that, with Candy, jealousy would work where reason would not. His first major move came about one night when the four of them plus Marc went out to eat at a local bar and grille that specialized in seafood entrees.
“Will you just look at the way those bimbos are hanging all over him?” Candy hissed.
Gwenyth pretended she hadn’t noticed. Smiling to herself, she looked up at the bar where Brian was standing with two drop-dead gorgeous blondes attached to either hip. Sam and Marc were standing not too far away from him, embroiled in conversation with the grille’s owner. No doubt they were getting some tips for their future restaurant endeavor.
Gwenyth winked at Brian. He smiled back slyly. “He is a very attractive man, Can. What do you expect?”
“You find him attractive?” Candy squeaked out. She pretended to brush a speck of lint off of her sweater. “I suppose he is—for a macho jock, but to be perfectly honest, I hadn’t really noticed.”
Yeah. Right. “Apparently the blondes have noticed. Good grief, I think the one on the left just copped a feel.”
Candy blew out a bubble and popped it ferociously. “That bitch.”
“What was that?”
“I said, maybe he had an itch.”
Gwenyth studied her glass of tea. Yeah. Right. “Yes. Perhaps the blonde was just scratching it for him.”
Candy had heard enough. Standing up abruptly, she spit out her gum, wrapped it up in a cocktail napkin, and handed it over to Gwenyth. “I’ll call you later, Gwen,” she announced without glancing backward toward her best friend.
Candy’s stiletto heels clicked on the polished wood floors of the seafood bar and grille as she sauntered seductively toward Brian. Her light brown eyes never left his face as she sashayed up to where he stood and peered up at him. Brian swallowed harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
All eyes turned toward the pair. It was as if time in the restaurant had come to a standstill. And then it happened.
