Page 10 of The Third Baseman

My huff was dark and low. “Jupiter was drafted to The Dodgers the day we broke up. After that, I did everything I could to avoid him. Avoid sports. At the end of the semester, I went to study in Boston for seven years, then I moved to Houston.” I smiled weakly. “It wasn’t that hard really. My old work colleagues weren’t that interested in sports.”

That was an understatement. In fact, if you ever want to avoid something, go work at N.A.S.A.

“Hi, ladies, what can I get you?”

Lowe and Beulah turned with obvious annoyance to the barista who’d interrupted us. He placed three glasses of water on the table, and stood back waiting for an answer.

“Drip coffee?” I glanced from Lowe to Beulah, my brows raised.

“Great,” Lowe replied while Beulah nodded, more interested in my story than their coffee.

I turned back to the barista. “Make it three, please.”

Besides my therapists, I’d never opened up to anyone about Jupiter. Never confided. Never talked about him. Never Googled him, even in my darkest, loneliest moments. Because if I could pretend he didn’t exist on the outside, then maybe my heart and brain would get the message on the inside.

But they hadn’t; they’d merely been put into a coma. And the signed divorce papers burning a hole in my purse was proof of that.

“Marnie, why did you come to New York? To this job?”

I chewed on my cheek while I figured out the answer, or the beginnings of the answer.

“I got divorced today.”

Beulah choked on the water she’d taken a sip of. I grinned, passing her a napkin to wipe the dribble off her chin.

“Well, technically it was finalized last week, but I only got the signed papers back from my lawyer when I arrived here. They’re in my bag. They were waiting for me when I got to New York.”

“Does anyone know that you were married?” asked Lowe in a hushed tone while she scanned around to make sure we weren’t overheard, as though I’d just told her I’d committed a federal crime.

I laughed loudly, which had a medicinal effect on the tension wrapping around my spine like a boa constrictor. “Yes, people know. It wasn’t a secret.”

“Does Jupiter know?”

“Well, considering we haven’t spoken since the day we broke up, I’d say no.” I shrugged.

“Penn never mentioned it.”

“I didn’t tell Penn.”

The pair of them looked at each other sheepishly, like there was more to their statement, but it was at this point the barista came back with our coffees.

I took a sip of mine, savoring the warmth and its rich, potent flavors which almost immediately made my heart pound a little harder. At least I thought it was the coffee, but I was probably wrong.

I put the cup down and drew in a deep breath.

“Last year, I’d had to go to D.C. for a meeting at N.A.S.A. headquarters. I’d spent all day there, and it was late by the time I finally got to my hotel. I was in the elevator, and a group of guys got in and began talking. I wasn’t really listening to them, but then one of them said ‘Jupiter’.” I picked up a sachet of Sweet‘N’Low and began running the edges between my fingers. “Now, N.A.S.A isn’t exactly the best place to go if you don’t want to hear that word, but I’d normalized hearing it at work – especially as the agency is developing a new space mission to further study the planets. But I wasn’t at work, and it took me thirty seconds before I realized they weren’t talking about space. They were talking about baseball and Jupiter,myJupiter. I guess The Dodgers were playing in the city or something, and he’d had a good game. As I was listening, it dawned on me that Jupiter was there, in the city where I was. For the first time since we’d broken up, or since I’d left for school, we were in the same place. By the time the elevator stopped on their floor and they got out, I was shaking like my body was going through G-Force training. I barely made it into my room before I threw up everything, which wasn’t much. Then the crying started. I spent the next two days coming to terms with the fact that as much as I’d tried to get over him, our breakup had a profound effect on me. I was totally in love and totally heartbroken. All that time and nothing had changed. It’s so dumb. I was sixteen years old! Everyone gets their heart broken, but here I am, aged thirty, and still crying about it.”

I sipped at my coffee again, soothing my parched mouth from all my talking. I thought Lowe and Beulah might jump in with questions, but they didn’t.

That would happen thick and fast, soon enough.

“I flew back to Houston and tried to gather my thoughts. David, my ex-husband, was on a mission, so I had time, but that was when Penn started calling me. He must have called twenty times.” I chuckled as Lowe groaned loudly. “And I didn’t know who he was, so I Googled him; he’d just taken ownership here, which made no sense to me. What would he want with me? I know nothing about baseball. I tried to ignore him, but he was so persistent. Then David returned and it became clear I had no interest in our marriage. We flitted from one mundane conversation to another, never touching, and I realized that while I loved David, I wasn’tinlove with him…” I began tracing my fingers around the rim of my coffee cup, “maybe never had been. We’d spend eight months of the year apart, and it always seemed acceptable to me. But in reality, it was avoidance. I filed for divorce. Penn kept calling, so I eventually went to meet him, determined to tell him I wasn’t interested and to leave me alone. Working for a baseball team was too close to Jupiter’s world. But instead, I came away with a new job.”

I paused, waiting to see if Lowe and Beulah had something,anythingto say, but they were both still staring with wide eyes, silently sipping their coffee. Or Beulah was; Lowe’s coffee was untouched, and most likely cold.

“My life had imploded. I couldn’t concentrate at work, I couldn’t do my job, so I convinced myself that change would be good, that perhaps being in Jupiter’s world would be good, help me move on. I promised Penn I would stay for a year, and signed the contract,” I pointed to Beulah, “your contract.”

Her mouth drew into a solemn line, the berry lips almost disappearing. She knew what was coming; I could see the remorse written all over her face. “You didn’t know Jupiter had already signed at The Lions?”

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