Page 14 of Passed Ball

Without my friends and their significant others, I'd be screwed. I've tried finding another nanny, but my trust is non-existent at this point. People have let me down my whole life--Kristy and Carly being the latest examples--and I can't take it anymore.

And seeing the effortless connection between Tenley and Holland . . . I want that. Someone calm with her when she's fussy, someone focused on her needs, someone not distracted by my job or teammates. A nanny who isn't afraid to call me out when I'm being overbearing. No one else is right.

"You look like shit." Worry etches a deep line between Hendrick's brows as he holds the door to the Bandit's stadium open for me. "Is everything okay?"

"Okay is a relative term right now. I spent my night on the floor next to my daughter's crib because she was fussy and woke up to a literal shitstorm." The dull ache that starts at my tight shoulder and wraps its way around my neck is a reminder of the toll doing this alone is taking on my body. I wince when I reach for the locker room door, holding it for my teammate.

"Nothing about that sounds okay. You need to find a nanny."

"Fuck, I know. I have an interview tomorrow," I say, following him to our lockers.

"Don't try to find something wrong with this one," Cruz chimes in from where he's tying his cleats. Dean and Dom come through the door behind me, each taking their spots to get ready for practice.

"I can't wait to remind you of that when you're looking for someone to help take care of your little guy in a few months." The all-business expression he was wearing melts away at the mention of his own baby.

"How's Lilah doing? My sister was miserable by this point in her pregnancy with Clayton." Dean's nephew was born a few weeks before Holland.

"She's amazing." Cruz beams, proud as hell and as awestruck with his wife as he's been since they realized there was more there than friendship. "Being able to stand the smell of coffee now that she's further along certainly helps."

"Have you guys started looking for someone to help when Lilah goes back to work?"

"Not really. Willa has a friend that's interested--we're kind of banking on that. And our parents will both come out to help for a few weeks." Lilah has a community beyond the team that I don't, including family and her employees at Buns & Roses, like Willa. I envy that kind of support.

"What about Vivi's niece?" Dom asks.

Dom voices an idea that's crossed my mind a few times since the camp. But Tenley's a college student. I need a permanent solution, not a short-term fix for the summer. But damn she was great with Holland. Finding someone like her, full-time, seems impossible.

"I'm sure my interview tomorrow will be fine." There's less conviction in my tone than ever.

Miller Murphy, our new manager who took over after Wilson retired, claps his hands. "I know you guys love to chat, but let's wrap it up and start practice, all right?"

"He's always so polite when he threatens us," Dom whispers a little too loudly.

"Would you rather I yell like I do at the delinquents?" Murphy responds, referring to the new guys who joined last year--Braxton Hayes included. They've made a name for themselves, not only because of their skills on the field, but also for their attitude and off-field drama.

"They deserve it," I say under my breath, still bitter that Braxton cost me my nanny.

"Did you tell Xavier yet?" Murphy asks Dean.

"Not yet. I figured I'd let him get dressed first."

"Tell me what?" I glance between the two.

"You took off so fast after yesterday's game you missed the team bonding while everyone signed the items for the gala auction. So I need you to stop by Double Play to do it this week." Murphy's half-smile fades as he adds, "And try not to piss off Vivi. The Bandits value our nonprofit partners."

"You got it, Coach." Fantastic. I'll find time for that.

Every year the Bandits host a gala to raise money for Double Play. All the players are required to attend.

Dean claps me on the shoulder. "I don't envy you."

"Yeah, thanks." I mentally tally my week, wondering when I'll make time for it.

It's not until the next morning, slightly more rested, that I realize I can swing by Double Play after my interview. I'm learning to multitask, but this shit is hard, and not enough people are honest about it.

"Morning, my little Áine. Did my girl have sweet dreams?" I lift Holland from the crib. She looks so much like my mom, with red hair and fair skin thanks to those strong Irish genes. The resemblance takes my breath away--a bittersweet reminder of what I've lost and what I have.

I push away the memories, focusing on the present. Baby-soft hairs tickle my nose as I kiss the top of her head. If you'd told me a year ago that inhaling her new baby scent would be my favorite way to start the day, I would've called you mad. Yet, here we are.

---