Page 44 of Curveball

“I’m not married with children if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Leaving anyone behind?”

I shake my head. “No. My only real family is my sister, and she lives in Southern California.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had lost your parents. I suppose you and Layton have that in common.”

“I didn’t. I’m just not close with them. I see them now and then. It’s usually my sister who forces it on me.”

He nods in acknowledgment as he continues to lift the weights as if they weigh nothing. “No lady friends?”

“No one of note.” There’s no need for me to mentionto him that the only one I care about is a fiery redhead who isn’t even talking to me right now. Oh, and she’s my wife.

He lifts one of his thick eyebrows. “I’m sensing there’s more to it.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’ve been living with a broken heart for a very long time. Let’s just say it increases your radar for others suffering a similar fate.”

“Oh, I’m not brokenhearted.”

“If you say so. Well, like I said, we’re happy to add you to our rotation. This is a solid team. Your new buddies are great leaders to the younger guys. I think the young guys see the brotherhood they’ve formed throughout the years. They genuinely care for each other. We don’t have selfish players on this team. I won’t stand for it, and neither will the owner, Harold Greene.” He says that as a bit more of a command than purely informational.

“It’s refreshing. That wasn’t the team culture in Houston. I welcome the change.”

He nods. “I know it wasn’t. That’s why I’m mentioning it. This team is a family. We support each other onandoff the field.”

“Yes, sir. I’m all in. I’ve never played for a contender. I’m thrilled about the opportunity.”

“Glad to hear it.” I help him set the weights in place before he sits up and wipes his brow with a towel. “I’m here for you for whatever you need.”

He says that in almost a fatherly way. Not that I would know what it looks like. I barely speak to my father.

“Thanks, Dutton. I genuinely appreciate it.”

CHAPTER NINE

QUINCY – AGE 33 {RIPLEY – AGE 28}

“Can you believe it, Q?”

I look at her smiling, emotional face on our FaceTime call. “I have no words right now, Z.”

“We’re going to be living in the same city for the first time in fifteen years.”

“They’re really starting a pro softball team in Philly?”

“Yep, and they want me as their marquee player. Q, they’re paying me more than double my current salary and are covering all my moving expenses.”

“That’s not surprising. You’re the best player in the league. You’re worth ten times what you’re being paid right now. It’s such bullshit that you ladies make so much less than us. You’re every bit as talented, if not more.”

“Thanks.” She pauses. “Do you watch many of my games?”

“Fuck yes. I try not to miss any. I subscribe to thestreaming service. That shit should be on national television.”

“I didn’t know that you watched. Thank you.”

“Of course.” I don’t tell her I also watch Ripley play. She’s easily become the best pitcher in the league. She throws heat. “My little sister is going to make the Olympic team in four years. Do you know how excited I am about that?”

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