Page 129 of Honey Pot

“Did you say us?” I set the papers down in my lap and shove his shoulder. “Arlo!”

“I rejected the offer from Dallas.” He steadied the car and looked over at me with a smirk on his face. “You’re looking at Harbor’s new assistant pitching coach.”

“Seriously?” My heart raced in my chest, my family had been torn apart, but slowly the pieces had started to drift back together and fall into place.

“Yeah, Kitten. There was something off about Dallas that I couldn’t put my finger on, but I had sixteen missed calls over Thanksgiving wondering why I wasn’t at camp with the rest of the team. They just don’t value each other, and I just…”

“...Needed your little dysfunctional family.” I finished for him, and he tapped two fingers to his chest in time with me.

“Finish reading.” Arlo nudged me. “At this rate, I’ll have us at the airport before you get to the point of this article.”

“Originally this was meant to be an inspirational fluff piece, however, the further I dug into the past relationships of the Hornets, the clearer it became that it wasn’t baseball that brought them together. On the surface, the spectators and fans of the team see a team full of bright smiles and incredible, timeless skills, no thanks to their gloomy but charismatic head coach, Ryan Cody, but very few or any were aware of who made them a family.”

A knot formed in my chest.

“There’s a path that leads past the concrete and turf, tucked beneath the sounds of screaming fans and confetti cannons that winds up the hill back to the Nest. That’s where you’ll find the heart of the Hornets.”

Arlo hummed, and I could tell that he knew what she meant before I even read the rest. The entire article was a eulogy to Mama. A proper one, like she was never given.

“Keep going, Cody,” he encouraged me.

“Lorainne Cody had the Nest thrust upon her, but she didn’t shy away from the challenge of being a surrogate mother to nearly twenty-eight men. She took a group of childish misfits and gave them a routine. She helped them pass classes, eat well, and form relationships with one another that you will never have within other teams' dynamics. The Hornets are a family because she taught a group of rowdy baseball players how to love each other sitting at the dinner table every Sunday evening stuffing their faces full of lasagna.”

“Do you love me?” I turned to Arlo, fighting back the tears, and smiled.

“I love your Mom’s lasagna,” he deflected, but I knew he did. “Shut up and read.”

“She spent her days preparing them for the hardest challenge they could ever face as a family, one all the players knew was inevitable. In turn, she created an unstoppable force. A wall so tall and strong that it seemed impossible for anyone to break through their defenses. But Lorainne Cody was sick. She had been since the day she stepped into the nest. All she could do was prepare them. Even ready for the end, guarded from the grief, the day the Nest’s heart stopped beating, there was a misstep.”

It felt like the grief from everything had caught in my throat.

“The Hornets stumbled, losing their way in the dark but the heart was still there; they just needed to take a closer look. Bundled beneath the core four, Arlo King, Dean Tucker, Van Mitchell, and the chief medical officer, Silas Shore, was Cael Cody. An unlikely and misrepresented hero in the story. The Hornet’s star shortstop, lost in the dark, seemingly forever, needed help getting home. Cael had slipped through the cracks in the foundation that had been rattled the day his mother died. So there he hid, his heart beating loud enough to replace the echoed sounds of his mother's, so that the team could continue to survive. But a heart can only live beneath the floor for so long before it withers away.”

Arlo looked over at me with dark eyes and a tight jaw, but I could see the softness in his gaze, the concern of an older brother who had been there for every single moment she was describing. Maybe guilty, but he shouldn’t be.

“Stop, don’t look at me like that. It’s not your fault either,” I said, before I continued to read.

“We needed the reminder,” Arlo said, instead of leaving it alone, and I nodded in agreement.

“All anyone wants to talk about is the accident that predated the Harbor Hornet’s winning the Supers. The accident nearly ended the careers and lives of Cael Cody and his captain, Arlo King. What happened in that car is none of our business, frankly, but it haseverythingto do with the reason they won. It was a catalyst for a team teetering on the edge of a three-year losing drought begging for a reason to fight harder.”

I inhaled tightly, taking a second to compose myself as Arlo sped down the off-ramp toward the airport. He laughed under his breath as his hands rolled over the wheel.

“The Hornets had fallen apart without Lorainne but suddenly had a reason to band together, to put all the knowledge and compassion they had learned from their surrogate to save their shortstop. With the heart beating loudly in their ears once again, the Hornets found their courage, their drive, and their will to win.”

Arlo sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth.

“I was sent here to interview their players on the win, on their skills and tactics, and I could have written this article with a slurry of facts and numbers that would bore you and force you to skim to the bottom. But the facts are tired, and the numbers that exist don't matter. I expected to spend my time here in the stadium, in an office, dragging information out of players who didn’t have time for me. Instead, I was welcomed into the family. We spent more time outside of the stadium than we did inside. With family dinners, birthday parties, and cabin retreats, I was spoiled by the Hornets in the form of quality time. And when we did find the chance to visit the stadium, it was lively and light. There’s not an unfriendly voice to be heard within the concrete walls. My time with the Hornets reminded me what baseball was meant to be, how it felt to be alive.”

“For a second there, I thought I was going to have a serious conversation with you about that girl…” Arlo’s voice trailed off beneath the sound of my own.

“What I was looking for in Harbor was a scandal. What I found in Harbor was my love of the game andmyheart. In the words of their former Captain, Arlo King,“we all separate the game from the emotion, when in reality, theemotions drive the game.”The Hornets have cracked a formula that so many other teams overlook in the form of family dinners and formed sibling connections. A formula I’m affectionately dubbing theLorraine Method.”

“That’s clever,” Arlo said as he pulled into the airport parking lot. It took him seconds to find a spot, but when the car engine died and I didn’t move, he looked at me. “What are you waiting for?”

“What if…” I stopped when Arlo grabbed the papers from me.

“What I found in Harbor wasmyheart,” Arlo said in a tight tone before he turned to stare at me. “You’re an idiot, and if you don’t get out of my car right now, that next punch is going to creep up on you faster than you think.”

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