“Oh,” she looks down at the white envelope but doesn’t reach for it. “Why don’t you give it to him another time? Maybe you can pop in for a visit during the All-Star break.”
For a second, I think about her proposal, but I know it won’t happen. I have no free time when I’m in New York, and if I do, I’m usually catching up with friends.
“You know what?” I say, stuffing the envelope back in my jeans. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll give it to him after the game tomorrow.”
A flash of disappointment crosses Charlotte’s face. She opens her mouth, but quickly shuts it and pastes on a smile. “Yeah. It’ll be great to hang out together tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Great.”
Charlotte pushes her hair off her face and stares at me. “Is everything all right, Casey?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“You just haven’t been yourself lately.”
I press my lips together and shake my head. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m perfectly happy. Having the best season of my career, and even your husband wants to sign me when I become a free agent at the end of the season. What could possibly be wrong?”
Charlotte opens her mouth to answer, but Cara, the girl I came in with, runs up to us. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Can we get out of here? This party stinks. No one is even high.”
Charlotte raises her eyebrows, and I cough into my fist, hiding my smile. “Darling, this is Charlotte. The party’s host and a dear friend of mine.”
Cara looks at Charlotte, as though just seeing her for the first time, and rakes her eyes down and then up again. She shrugs and purses her lips before replying, “I can give you a name if you need a contact. It’s no trouble.”
“I’m good,” Charlotte responds with no hesitation. “Thanks.”
There’s an awkwardness now, a familiar one that’s been there the last couple of times my old friends have clashed with my new ones. It feels as though, like the town, I’m starting to outgrow them, too.
“Thanks for inviting me, Char, but we’re going to head out. Enjoy the game tomorrow.”
Charlotte’s frown makes me second-guess my early exit, but it doesn’t last long. She nods and leans in for a hug. “It was great seeing you, Casey. Don’t be a stranger, okay? I know everyone would love to see you again.”
Her words have the same effect on me as when my mother says them. I feel guilty for a moment, but it passes quickly.Everyone must realize that I’ve moved on… to bigger and better things. It’s not that I don’t care about them anymore. I just have a lot going on and it takes up all of my time.
I kiss her cheek, then pull away quickly. “Say hi for me.”
She smiles, but her eyes give away her disappointment. “I will, Casey. Goodbye.”
*
My head’s pounding and I toss another ibuprofen into my mouth. It’s the third one this hour. I should have called it an early night, knowing I would pitch today’s game, but late nights never stopped me before.
The cold water from the shower shocks me awake and I quickly lather my body and rinse off before towel-drying my hair.
The cab driver spots me as I rush through the lobby doors, so he starts the car.
“Morning, Mr. Tucker. Hell of a day for a baseball game.”
I squint at the sunshine piercing through the passenger-side window and grab my sunglasses. “Yeah. Hell of a day.”
He turns up the radio when a trending song comes on and I groan inwardly and slouch back, trying to get as far away from the blaring sound.
“Can you turn that off?”
“The radio? Oh, sure.” He immediately snaps the dial and the music is gone. I get a few minutes peace until
he turns into the ballpark entrance, and I hop out of the car. He offers some sort of goodbye, but I miss it as I race toward the training center’s entrance. I’m five minutes late for practice.
“Nice of you to finally join us, Tucker,” says Gavin Neuman, the head pitching coach. His frown tells me he doesn’t think it's nice at all.
