Page 104 of Curveball

“His wife was a powerful woman. He never told her my name before he died. I couldn’t have her finding out. But—”

“She eventually did.”

She nods. “Yes. When you were two, she showed up at our apartment. She offered me a huge lump sum of money to move out of the country and agree to never contact her or her children or ever tell anyone who your father was. I refused, but for years she made my life a living hell. She made sure no one would hire me. She had me evicted from every apartment we lived in. Please understand that I was struggling to make ends meet. We moved around from shitty place to shitty place. He was gone. Her money would give us a fresh start. By the time you were five, I would go days without eating because I could only afford food for you. At some point, I gave in and took her money. It enabled me to buy us a nice house in a good neighborhood and give us the fresh start we needed. I was able to get a job and give you the life you deserved.”

That explains how we went from small-apartment living to a four-bedroom house when we moved to the US. I suppose I never thought about it at the time, but now I see it.

She continues. “You were already showing signs of being a pitching prodigy. I chose California knowing the weather would be such that you could throw all year round.”

“I’m sure my pregnancy brought some of this to the surface, but why now? Why are you telling me now?”

She smiles. “You got his brains too.”

“I got your brains. You’re no dummy.”

She gives me a grateful look.

“His wife passed away a few weeks ago. When your brother and sister were recently going through her old boxes in storage, they came across the private investigator file on us. Apparently, she kept tabs on us for several years after we left. I assume tomake sure I wasn’t going back on our deal. They had no clue about you. They reached out to me and want to meet you. I told them you know nothing about your father. I’d first have to decide if I wanted to tell you everything about him, and after that, it would be your decision whether you wanted to meet them. I can tell you they seemed sincere on the phone, but I can’t be sure.”

I’m quiet for a bit. “I think I need to let this settle. I’m a bit of a mess given everything else going on. Let me get through the next few months, and then we’ll talk more about it.”

“No rush, my love. It’s waited twenty-eight years. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Kam bursts through the door with a big smile. “Mama June is back in da house!”

Mom turns and smiles. “Honey Boo Boo is back causing trouble.”

I look behind her and don’t see Bailey. “Where’s Bails?”

“Babysitting. Allegedly. She’s probably having her pink fortress attacked. She said she’ll meet us later at the group home.”

Mom questions, “Group home?”

I nod. “Layton coaches a baseball team of orphaned kids. Arizona coaches with him too. We’re going to drop by for an hour and wish them all a happy Thanksgiving. I’ll come back here for you afterward, and we’ll go to Quincy’s together.”

“Okay.”

Kam looks around and sighs. “I can’t believe you’re really leaving us. I understand why, but I’m still sad.”

I told Kamryn and Bailey everything right after my encounter with Quincy. They saw me in bed crying, and I couldn’t deny it anymore.

“It’s the right thing to do. I’ll visit. Or maybe you can come visit me.”

A few hours later,we’re walking into Quincy’s place. My heart is racing. I saw him briefly at the group home today, but we didn’t talk at all.

I can hear several voices in there as we approach his door. I’m glad we won’t be alone with him.

He opens the door and starts to open his mouth, but Kam practically punches him in the stomach with a bottle of wine. “Here, dickhead. You can shove this right up your ass. We’re only here because we love Arizona. Oh, and thank you for having us.”

He nods as if he was expecting it. Staring at me, he says, “Can we talk?”

I shake my head. “There’s nothing left to say. Let’s just eat and get this over with.”

Arizona and Quincy’s parents, Paul and Pamela, greet me warmly. When the time comes, I’ll tell them about their grandchild. Perhaps they’ll want to be in his or her life, even if Quincy won’t.

As always, Quincy is cold to his parents throughout the meal, barely acknowledging his father. The whole thing is awkward, but Kam and Cheetah do their best to lighten things up.

As I’m exiting the bathroom after dinner, he pulls me into his bedroom and lets out a breath. “Alone at last.”

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