Page 1 of Wild Pitch
CHAPTER 1
HOPE
NOVEMBER
Sometimes life throws you a curveball so wild, so unexpected, that you can’t even take a swing at it.
Every year, my college buddies and I get together for Friendsgiving down in Miami, where we met as far back as seven years ago. At least half of the group lives out of state now, which didn’t seem too terrible at first until life happened. We have a nurse, a future orthopedic surgeon, a personal trainer to celebrities, a brand influencer, and more. The one common thread is that basically none of us have work-life balance. Work is life.
I’m one of the worst. As a junior athletic trainer for a professional baseball team, I work twelve-hour days for basically all but two months of the year. Friendsgiving is essentially the start of that down season for me, and I look forward to it every year.
Sun, good food, drinks, and friends gathered together in the McMansion owned by the hosts, Kelly and Mitch. It sits by a lake and if that wasn’t enough, it also boasts an infinity pool courtesy of Mitch’s banker salary.
There’s only one downside to Friendsgiving: Dawson Clark. A.k.a. my one and only ex boyfriend.
I park my yellow Jeep a few houses down from the McMansion because every spot in its vicinity is taken. Turning the rearview mirror my way, I’m met by a shocking view. Maybe leaving the roof off during the entire drive down from Orlando was a bad idea, especially when paired with keeping my hair untied. I make a weak attempt to comb it with my fingers and give up pretty quickly. I’m diving right into the pool after this, so what’s the point?
After hopping out of the car, I pluck my overnight bag from the backseat and hoist it over my shoulder. One of Daddy Yankee’s classics about evil exes plays in my head and I whistle it as I head over to the McMansion.
Okay, Dawson isn’t some two-bit villain from a song, and I’m not secretly pining for him or anything. Since we originally started out as friends fromthisgroup, we decided to remain friends for the sake of the collective. Too bad I kind of lied when I said I was cool with it, because I want to punch him in the neck every time I see him.
“It’s fine,” I tell myself as I ring the McMansion’s doorbell. “I’m fine, everything’s fine. It’ll be fun.”
Pool. Cocktail. Those mini quiches Kelly makes. Catching up with everybody else. Clubbing with Amy later. Ignoring Dawson. Two days of this is totally doable.
The door swings open and there’s Kelly with her wide pageant smile, blonder hair than usual framing her face, and the biggest pregnant belly I’ve ever seen. She spreads her arms wide and brings me for a tight hug. “Hope, you’re here!”
“Wait.” I try to push away but homegirl must be seriously working out because I can’t. “Your belly?—”
“I know! It’s one of the biggest news this year.” Finally, she frees me to frame her belly with loving hands. With her floraldress and perfect makeup, she looks like a model for a southern magazine. “I was waiting for everyone to be together to break it—the news, I mean, not water.”
I blink. It takes me a second to get the joke and I snort. “Well, congratulations. You’re positively glowing.”
“Thank you.” She hooks her arm with mine and pulls me into the foyer, where she calls out, “Hope is here!”
Music drifts from the backyard along with the smell of burgers on the grill. A few voices cheer for my arrival, while others continue their chatter. I don’t know if it’s just me but there seem to be more people than usual, which probably means some people found significant others since last year.
Vaguely, I wonder if Dawson is one of them. How should I react to that?
I tune out most of Kelly’s tale about the pool upgrades—now with an integrated jacuzzi!—while I try to search for an answer. I can’t find it in me to be happy for Dawson, even if his new beau turns out to be sweeter than sugar. In theory that would mean he found someone better than me while I’m still super single. Not exactly a palatable prospect.
But then, I also can’t show any sort of negative reaction in front of the group. That would make things weird—andweirdis what we’ve been trying to avoid so carefully.
I realize I’m looking down at the floor when a pair of men’s boat shoes attached to some legs appear in front of me. My eyes rise and I have to stifle the relieved sigh when it turns out to only be Mitch.
“Wow, you look like garbage” is my greeting to him.
Sighing, he says, “Hope to see you too.” He blinks slowly as if half asleep on his feet, which checks out with the dark circles around his eyes.
I don’t have the heart to ask what he even meant and instead turn my attention to his wife. “Is work killing him?”
“No, I am.” She smiles.
“She tosses and turns all night when she’s sleeping. Or wakes me up with some weird craving.” Mitch offers me a one-armed hug before shifting to drop a kiss on Kelly’s forehead. “I’m going upstairs to take a nap. You’re in charge.”
“Always.” She pats his butt as he wades away and I shake my head, trying to mask all the feelings roiling in my stomach.
Mitch and Kelly were the other couple from the friend group. I really thought I’d have what they have by now—the McMansion, the college sweetheart husband, and a little one on the way.
