Still, the stress of not having work lined up for the offseason is mounting as the days roll on. Turns out, there aren’t many places that will hire a guy with no education, no skills off the ball field, and no availability six months out of the year.
Now I’ve got Sage and our unborn child to worry about. Spending time with her has been incredible. Finally getting a glimpse of who she is, what she’s been through, it made me understand her so much more. And admire her so much more.
She’s strong, independent, and so beautiful it hurts.
Every second spent with her makes me more certain that I want her to stay. Not just so I can be near my child, but so I can be near her. Possibly even bewithher.
But the other thing that was clear after our conversation in my car last night is that Sage doesn’t stay in one place for long. I’m not entirely sure why, but I’m guessing it has something to do with not wanting to lose anyone again. If she doesn’t stick around, she can’t get close enough to anyone for it to hurt if things end.
If I’m right, then I’ve got my work cut out for me. Because if I want a chance with the mother of my child, I’ve got to prove to her that I’m worth sticking around for.
Lucky, one of the outfielders, strikes out, and storms off the field with his jaw clenched. He sits down beside me and rips off his batting gloves.
“Their pitcher is solid,” I say. “His curveball isn’t easy to hit.”
Lucky just grunts.
“Nice work out there, Dixie. How’s your shoulder?” Miki walks up and eyes me critically. “Still not sure I’m on board with pitchers batting, even if your swing is picture perfect.”
“Thanks?” I say, unsure if they meant that as a compliment or a complaint. “Shoulder feels good.” They nod and turn to Lucky.
“How ’bout you? Need anything?” He shakes his head silently, and the trainer moves on.
I’m not exactly a chatty guy, and if Lucky needs to sit in his frustration for a minute or two, I’ll let him. The sound of a bat connecting with the ball has me standing and moving to the railing, and I watch our guy sprint for first, rounding the bag for a few steps before dancing back and planting his foot on the base.
Unfortunately, the opposing pitcher doesn’t make it easy for the next Thunder player to take the plate, and the inning ends with us securing just the two runs.
The game’s not over, and if we want to hold onto our lead, we need to be on top of our game. Which means I need to focus on the field, and not on Sage, our baby, or my employment issues.
We pull off the win, and afterward spirits are high. I find myself getting caught up in the energy coming from my teammates.
Baseball locker rooms are strange places. It’s a windowless room full of men with zero modesty and huge egos. It often stinks like dirty socks and that dish you forgot under your bed for a month. And depending on how the game or practice has gone, it’s either a nonstop party or a funeral.
“Hey Dixie, you coming out with us tonight? It’s karaoke night!” Cal asks as he swaggers up to his cubby next to mine, wrapped only in a towel.
I pull my shirt over my head before I reply. “Sure, why not.”
Going out beats the alternative of going home to my too-quiet apartment and spending even more time searching for a job.
Cal clutches his chest and looks at me, shocked. “Holy shit, he said yes!” Raising his voice, he turns to face the room. “Everybody, I need your attention. Dixieactually said yes to coming out tonight. It’s a fucking miracle!”
The room erupts in cheers as I roll my eyes and pull on my shoes. “Calm the fuck down, Pretty Boy,” I grumble. “I’m not that antisocial.”
Cal, now wearing clothes, leans back against the cubby next to me with a smirk. “Not antisocial no, but quiet, yes. Private, yes. Kind of boring, yes.”
I know he’s teasing, but I still punch him in the side. Despite Levi’s encouragement a couple weeks ago, I still haven’t made an effort with the guys. In all the months I’ve been here, I’ve only gone out once, and that was for a fundraiser the team was involved in.
I have to do better. And a part of me wants to. I want to be friends with the guys, not just teammates.
Besides, it’s not like I’ve got to get home for the twins or anything. I literally have no one waiting on me.
Which is how I find myself out at a bar in downtown Cedar Creek, sitting at one of two tables full of Thunder players, nursing a beer, watching Griff and Foxxy make fools of themselves on the stage singing “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond.
“Alright, since I’m the one to successfully get you to join us tonight, I’ve been nominated by the guys to be the one to ask this question. So don’t hit me or anything.”
I turn and look at Cal with my eyebrows raised. “Okay…”
He grins and holds up his hands. “Listen. We just wanna know the story. Oakley said he played against youback in high school and you were good. Like, going to the pros good. So how’d you end up here?”
