Page 105 of Double Play

I look around the room and see Tanner, Cheetah, Trey, Quincy, Ezra, and Arizona. They’re all sitting in chairs. Quincy and Arizona are awake, huddled together, but the rest are sleeping in awkward, uncomfortable-looking positions.

And then it hits me. Arizona is here.

I slam my hand on the bed. “No! No! No!”

All six of them jump to their feet.

I look at Arizona and tears fill my eyes. I shout, “Why are you here? You should be celebrating with your team. This should be one of the best days of your life. I told them not to tell you.” I toggle my eyes between all my friends. “Who told her, damn it? I want to know!”

She immediately takes my hand and kisses it. “It doesn’t matter who told me. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

I bang my head back repeatedly against the pillow. The machines start beeping loudly. Tears are running down my cheeks. “I didn’t want you robbed of your moment. You’ve earned it.”

Tears now pour out of her eyes as she kisses my hand again. “I’m exactly where I belong.”

A man in a white coat, who looks vaguely familiar, rushes in and takes in my state of distress. “Layton, we need you to calm down. Your heart rate is spiking. Your body just went through surgery. That’s a major trauma. It can’t handle the added stress. It’s not safe.”

I’m so damn angry right now. Who told her? Who got her home so quickly? I can feel my face turning red as the machines beep in alarm with increased frequency.

The doctor places his hand on my shoulder. “If you don’t calm down, I’m going to have to sedate you again.”

“Don’t you fucking dare! Someone take her back to Miami. Someone…” Before I finish my sentence, I feel Arizona’s lips on mine. They’re soft. They’re uniquely her. They’re my home. I immediately relax my shoulders and calm down. The machines gradually slow until the loud beeping noises come to an end.

She mumbles into my mouth, “If you don’t shut up, the next thing I’m going to do is sit on your face.”

Quincy moans. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I just heard you say that.”

Everyone else bursts out in laughter. Cheetah blurts out, “I’m totally staying forthat.”

She grabs my face and presses her forehead to mine. “Relax, superstar. Deep breaths. I’m not going anywhere.”

I sigh in resignation. “But you should be celebrating with your team, not stuck in a hospital watching me sleep. Please. Go back. Be with them. Enjoy your moment in the sun.”

“I did celebrate with them. And I’ll celebrate more this week. They’ll be home in a few hours. For now, I’m going to be here with you. If the situation was reversed, would you be out partying in South Beach or here with me?”

I don’t answer.

“Exactly. Now shut up and listen to the doctor. If you get crazy and he has to sedate you, I’m going to let Cheetah shave your head.”

I hear some of my friends snickering, but I don’t care. Taking her hand in mine, I squeeze it in gratitude for her loving me the way she does. I can’t believe she left her team’s celebration to come and watch me sleep.

The doctor clears his throat. “Layton, I don’t know how much you remember from when they brought you in. You were in and out of consciousness. We spoke just before you were sedated. My name is Dr. James Alexander. I’m the head of orthopedic surgery here at Pennsylvania Hospital. You suffered a tibia-fibula fracture in the area just below your knee.It was completely displaced. I know this is a bit graphic, but it was basically like a tree branch that snapped in half. We did our best to put your bones back into place, but we also had to insert pins to keep them together. When we went in, your knee was a bit of a mess, so we did some work on that too. You’ll be immobilized completely in this device until the swelling goes down in a few days. You absolutely cannot move. If you do, you risk needing more surgery and prolonging your recovery period. Once the swelling subsides, you’ll be fitted for a cast. It will be about three months before you’re walking, and you won’t be back to normal for a few months after that. The recovery timeline will depend on the extensive physical therapy you’ll require to regain full motion. The more you put into it, the better the results.”

“Will I ever be able to play ball again?”

He shrugs. “I can’t make any promises. The position you play is demanding on your legs and knees. I’m not sure how you were playing with your knee as we found it. You must have been in substantial pain.”

I subtly nod and see my teammates grimace, knowing I was hiding it.

He continues, “My best guess is that you’re doubtful for next season, certainly the first half of the season, but perhaps with a lot of hard work, the season after is a possibility. You’re going to lose a lot of muscle. It will take time to rebuild it. There are no guarantees.”

It feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. You could cut the tension in here with a knife right now.

My career is over. I know it. Everyone in this room knows it. I’ll never play baseball again. Just like that, the decision was taken away from me.

And the weird thing is, I’m not sure how I feel about it. A few months ago, this would have devastated me. But now, for the first time since I started this crazy baseball journey, I see a life after baseball.

There’s a knock on the door and it opens. An exceedingly attractive woman in a white jacket walks in. If one of these fuckers ordered me a stripper nurse, I’m going to kick their ass.

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