Page 2 of Love in the Outfield

But I’ve got no time to go down that rabbit hole. I put on my team cap and head out to the ball field.

Iswear, I feel every muscle in my body as I enter my apartment. I turn on the lights and open the sliding glass doors that lead to a small balcony. I can smell the ocean and hear the waves crashing to shore. There’s a slight breeze tonight with the temperature hovering in the low seventies. If I’m traded, one of the things I’ll miss the most is living on the coast. San Diego has everything… beaches, a vibrant local culture, tourist attractions and outdoor activities, which is great when my family and friends visit. And plenty ofsunshine… between two hundred fifty to three hundred days a year.

I fill a tall glass with ice water and then settle outside on my chaise lounge. We won tonight no thanks to me. I was off my game. I’d never have gotten on base if I hadn’t worked two walks and gotten hit twice by pitches. Thank God for my elbow and shin guards or I may have been on the IL.

I close my eyes and breathe in the fresh ocean air. I was lucky to score this oceanfront apartment in my second year playing here. It’s got breathtaking views and access to the beach. I’ll miss this little bit of heaven if I have to move. My phone vibrates in my pocket and with a sense of dread, I pull out my cell. The caller ID shows it’s my agent.

“Hey, Ross.”

“Cade! Hey, I just wanted to give you a heads-up. You’ll get a direct call from the general manager soon but I wanted to break the news first. You’ve been traded to the Kentucky Cutters. Great news!”

I frown. “Is it?”

“Pretty sweet deal. A multi-year contract, five years plus fourteen million annually, I’d say is pretty good news. That’s a big leap in your salary. I pushed for Kentucky, figuring you’d rather go to your hometown than Washington.”

“I appreciate that, Ross.” My voice belies the statement.

“Listen, I know change can be tough, but I believe this trade can be a huge positive for your career. Let’s focus on making the most of this situation. The Cutters have a decent shot at the playoffs. You already know the area. Your family is there. And most of all the Cutters are thrilled to have you. They need what you’re selling. You’ll be an important asset to the team.”

“I know you’re trying to be positive but I like California.”

“This is a chance for you to reconnect with your roots and leverage that home-town hero advantage. The fan support forthis move will be epic. Everyone loves a homegrown success story. You can play in front of your family. Playing at home will certainly attract local sponsors. This is a big deal, kid.”

“Listen, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I know you worked hard on this… it’s just a lot to take in. The salary is amazing and at least I know where I’ll be playing. The uncertainty was killing me. And you’re right, if I have to go anywhere, I’d rather it be home.”

“That’s the spirit! You can always winter over in San Diego. With your salary, you’ll be able to own a home in both places. You’ve earned this, Cade. You’ve worked hard and come a long way from the kid I met a few years back. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Ross. And thanks for the call.”

“We’ll talk again tomorrow. Get some rest. You’re going to need it.”

“Don’t I know it? Night, Ross.”

“It’ll be fine. In a couple of months when you’re playing in the World Series, you’re gonna forget all about your pain.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure. Something to look forward to.”

“That’s the attitude! Go get ’em, son. And congratulations!”

I disconnect and lean back taking a few deep breaths. I’ll adjust. It’s not like I’m going to a strange place. I’ll be around those who love me in the place where I grew up. Playing for the team I looked up to as a kid.It’s all good. I’ve got this.

2

GEORGIA

“Me do!” my toddler demands, trying to grab the spoon from my hand. The applesauce plops onto the highchair’s tray and I suppress a sigh.

I look at my precious little one with the stubborn gleam in his dark blue eyes and wonder again when this expressive little person started having a mind of his own. I’m as excited as I am sad that my baby’s growing up, and trust me, it’s possible to experience both at the same time. I’m trying to embrace every moment in real time because I know these days will be gone in the blink of an eye. We zoom past every milestone like lightning.

“Let Mama help,” I insist.

He shakes his head vigorously. “Me do, Mama!”

I sigh and hand over the spoon. I pick my battles and just because I feel rushed doesn’t mean he should pay the price.

He beams at me with a devilish sparkle in his eyes, a carbon copy of the man who is firmly off limits from my wandering mind. He grabs a fistful of Cheerios in one hand, shoveling the cereal in his mouth, while his chubby little fingers grip the spoon in the other. The spoon then follows. I laugh.

“Are you teasin’ your mama? Wrong order,” I say. “Here, watch me.” I mimic holding a spoon, scooping out applesauce, and lifting said imaginary spoon to my mouth.

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