Page 72 of Love in the Outfield

“I miss you, Georgia. Thanks for taking my call.”

“It had to happen sooner or later.”

“You are one tough cookie.”

“Try to remember that when we’re wading through all thistogether. I’m no pushover.”

“I’m shocked! Listen, no doubt in my mind that we’ll work through this. Sweet dreams. Hug Auggie for me when he wakes up in the morning.”

“I’ll try to remember. Night, Cade. Good luck in tomorrow’s game.”

“Thanks. I’ll have a better shot at it now.”

We hang up and I turn on the TV and settle back against the pillows. Before too long Dean arrives so I switch it off and we talk baseball until I can barely keep my eyes open.

“I’m zonking out, bro,” I say yawning loudly. I reach over to turn off my bedside lamp.

“Yeah, I’m ready to clock out myself. See ya bright and early,” Dean says.

I’m asleep before he finishes his sentence.

33

CADE

Our plane touches down and I can hardly wait to plant my feet back on Kentucky soil. Feels like I’ve been gone for months. I miss living on the West Coast in some ways, mostly the beach and my friends, but the move has shown me how important family is and nothing compares to building a relationship with Georgia and my son. I have the off-season to enjoy the ocean and maybe someday I’ll share it with August and Georgia.

I’m going to surprise her at work. It could go either way. She sounded slightly warmer on our last phone conversation. Quite an improvement over her cool, “we’re barely acquaintances,” tone of the previous call. All I have to do is drop by my apartment to unload my luggage and change clothes. I text Mom to tell her I’ve landed and I’ll call her tomorrow.

Dean says, “You look revved up.”

“I told you, man, I’m going to surprise Georgia at work and hopefully do damage control.”

“She won’t be too hard on you if she’s on the clock.”

“She could ignore me. Freeze me out.”

“True dat. But she won’t.”

“Hope you’re right. I think she’s coming around. Her sister is a lawyer and I have a feeling she talked her down a notch from murdering me or fleeing the country with my child.”

Dean laughs. “I hope so. We need you on the diamond.”

The fasten seatbelt sign goes off and I shoot up from my seat like a rocket.

“Take it down a notch,” Dean says, poking fun at me.

“I’m sick of looking at your ugly mug,” I joke. “Almost two weeks of listening to you snore is enough for anyone. I’ve got to get out of here.”

“Ditto,” Dean says. “See you tomorrow. Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks. Fingers crossed I won’t need it.” I grab my duffle from the overhead storage compartment and follow the other passengers out of the plane.

The restaurant is hopping for a weeknight. I stand off to the side waiting for a barstool to open. She hasn’t noticed me yet. I’m assuming the other bartender is her friend Eric who she’s talked about. They both move together like well-oiled machines. Talking and laughing with customers while efficiently filling orders. Georgia is a sight for sore eyes even in a plain white dress shirt and black slacks. Her hair is pinned back, falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She throws her head back and laughs at something the male customer says and I feel a jolt of jealousy. He seems a little too invested in his server.

She raises her gaze and spots me, freezing, her mouth opens in surprise. Her customer turns to see what’s caught her attention and frowns. I wiggle my fingers at Georgia and smile. Her customer’s eyes meet mine, narrowing then widening, and Irealize he recognizes me. He glances back and forth between me and Georgia, then backs away from the bar with his drink and returns to his friends.

I make my way through the sea of people to reach Georgia and slide up to the bar. “It feels like forever,” I say. Her smile is tentative but not cold. I’m encouraged.

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