“Thanks again, Missy,” I say, typing in my payment information, ending the call with her. The transaction is complete and I stare at the screen for a moment, a contradictory sense of overwhelm mixing with the simultaneous relief I feel.
These last two weeks have been a complete whirlwind. After dealing with injury after injury for the last two years, I was planning on making this upcoming season my last with theTitans. My contract was set to end then, but life has a funny way of shaking things up every now and then.
Two seasons ago, I tore my rotator cuff in my right shoulder and had to have it surgically repaired. The damage was more extensive than they thought and the surgeons did the best they could. I went through intense rehabilitation and physical therapy to try and get my shoulder back to where it was before my injury, but I never achieved that.
Since then, I’ve sustained other minor injuries, but each one has taken longer to rehab and only created more instability within the joint. I’ve been gritting my teeth, pushing through the pain, but after speaking with the team doctors, physical therapist, and the rest of the executives, it was determined best if I retired a year early.
The team can’t afford to have a liability for a pitcher and I can’t risk losing all function of my shoulder if I keep injuring it.
It wasn’t an easy decision to make, although it was a necessary one. I’m grateful for getting the opportunity to play professionally, for getting the chance to live out my dreams, but I know my time here in Texas has come to an end. It’s time I close this chapter and head back to where I belong.
Back to Silverspur Springs, to my family’s ranch.
Closing my laptop, I tuck my phone into my front pocket and head over to the front door where the last two boxes of my belongings are. I downsized considerably and dropped a lot off at the local donation center since I’m moving back into the main house on our ranch. Everything else I’m taking with me has been packed up and I’ve been loading them into a shipping pod all afternoon. I have been renting the house fully furnished, so all my furniture and decorations are staying for the new tenants.
I grab the last two boxes, put them on the dolly that came with the shipping pod, and head out to the driveway. Lifting theremaining boxes, I stack them inside and tuck the dolly in the corner before I shut the doors.
“It’s going to be weird having new neighbors.”
I turn around and see Tucker, one of my teammates and closest friend I have in Texas, standing at the end of my driveway. His wife stands behind him on the sidewalk, pushing the stroller back and forth, most likely to keep their four-month-old son content in the carriage.
“Hey Tuck,” I say, nodding my head at him before looking at his wife. “Hey Payton.”
“Hey Cole,” she says, waving as she smiles brightly. She glances down at the stroller and stops rocking it as she looks back at me. “Did you end up having any luck with flights?”
Tucker and Payton were the first to hear about my early retirement, along with the news of me heading back to Silverspur Springs.
I nod, shifting my weight on my feet and tucking my hands into my jean pockets. “The best option was tomorrow, which works since your new neighbors will be moving in soon.”
Tucker groans, a frown tugging his lips downward. “Don’t remind me.”
“Tuck, be nice,” Payton scolds him, cutting her eyes at the back of his head. “The new neighbors might be nice.”
“The keyword is might, Pay.”
Payton rolls her eyes and begins to push the stroller away from my driveway. “I’m taking Brody home so I can get started on dinner. Bring Cole back with you.”
Tucker stares at me for a moment as Payton walks away and heads onto their property that sits right next to mine. “Do you really have to go?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, dipping my chin. “I gotta get back home. My brothers need me.” I pause, my eyes trailing over the grass that covers the sandy soil and the palm treesthat loom above. I’ve always missed the fresh mountain air. The smell of dust, hay and leather. “You know this place was never for me.”
Tucker walks over, his shoulders falling as a sigh escapes him. “I know. You’ve done nothing but complain about the humidity and stale air since you got here.” A smile cracks on Tucker’s face. “It’s been eight damn years of hearing you talk about how the weather is so much nicer in Wyoming.”
A chuckle rumbles in my chest. “I promise you; it is.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Tucker says. “Payton refuses to go anywhere that doesn’t have a beach.”
“There’s a lake,” I offer, shrugging my shoulders. “That kinda counts for a beach, right?”
Tucker laughs. “Not the kind of beach Payton likes, but nice try.” He lifts his arm, wrapping it around the tops of my shoulders. “Come on, she’s going to be annoyed if we’re late for dinner.”
“I thought she said she was going to make it?” I question him as we fall in step together and head across my yard and into his.
“By making it, she meant turning off the crockpot.”
I follow Tucker onto his front porch and he pulls open the front door, holding it for me to step in first. I kick my shoes off in the foyer and he does too. The smell of paprika and onions wafts through the air, immediately grabbing my attention and pulling me down the hall into the kitchen.
“What did you make, Payton?” I ask, strolling into the kitchen with Tucker behind me. “It smells delicious.” Payton turns around from the stove with Brody strapped to the front of her torso and smiles at the two of us.
