Page 15 of Stepping Up to the Plate

“Traded?” she questions. “Are you on the Songbirds?”

Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. The last thing I need is a cleat chaser to know which floor I live on. Though in leggings and a distressed pink tee, she doesn’t strike me as one.

“That is probably a crazy thing to ask randomly. I’m not a stalker, I promise. I’m Lola, Carina’s cousin; Robby’s fiancé. I promise I am not some creeper.”

“Oh, right. Robby mentioned Carina had some friends moving into his second unit. Yes, I am on the team. I’m Brady Miller. Everyone calls me by my last name, though.”

“Nice to meet you, Miller,” she says, sticking out her hand. The elevator reaches my floor at about the same time, but I still slip her hand in mine and shake it.

“Nice to meet you, Lola. Let Robby know he can call me if he needs help moving anything.”

“That’s thoughtful, thank you,” she replies with a tilt of her head, still holding my hand. When she realizes it, she drops it like a hot potato. “Have a nice night. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

* * *

I’ll definitely make sure I see her around. Something about her spoke to me in a way no one has in a while. She has an air of sweetness and innocence that is rare in the women I usually meet. I send Robby a text to see if he needs any help in case Lola forgets.

April

It’s Opening Day and the weather could not be more perfect. It’s 65° and clear as we make our way out onto the field for the first inning. I gave the guys a talk in the clubhouse about this being our year and how I know we can see it through this time. It’s way too early to say that for sure, but it’s the speech a captain should give.

Robby is on the mound and I’m on first. He tosses the ball to me and we throw it around the infield to warm up. I see a determination in his eyes, but more than that, I see a sense of calm confidence. I can’t help but think it has nothing to do with his off-season training and everything to do with the brunette yelling his name from behind home plate.

Apparently, Carina didn’t want to spend the opening game in the suite. She wanted a front row seat to cheer him on. It’s sweet. I wish I had someone dedicated to me in that way. Beside her, I see a blonde who I have come to understand is her best friend, Tiffany, and the cute brunette I ran into in the elevator, Lola. They all have on Songbirds jerseys. I wonder if they’re all for Becker. The thought of her wearing mine pops into my head, and I don’t hate it.

The crowd noise rises and I realize while I was lost in thought, they announced the lineup. The visiting team, the Sacramento Miners, has their first batter preparing to step up to the plate. As they approach, I shut everything else off in my mind and prepare to play ball.

ChapterNine

• LOLA •

“Where are you off to tonight?” I ask Tiffany as she slips into her prized Louis Vuitton red bottoms.

“I’m heading to the Bluebird to see a band whose makeup I did last week. Wanna join?” When she spies the refusal on my tongue, she amends her offer. “I’m also going to a rooftop pool party with them tomorrow if that’s more your speed.”

I can’t help but smile at my roomie. Even though I never take her up on her offers, she still asks me. She always wants everyone to be included. “I have to finish editing a piece for work on May festivals,” I respond.

“One of these days you’re going to say yes to one of my adventures.”

“I think we both remember what happened last time I did that,” I sass.

“That is neither here nor there and you know it! You spent a long time playing house. You’ve got a lot to make up for.”

“I wasn’t ‘playing house,’” I grouse. “I was living ‘house.’ Ya know, married and all that.”

“Exactly! Now that you’re single, it’s time to try all the things you missed out on. Take the bulls by the horns or save the bull and ride a cowboy!”

“I don't think that is the saying.”

“Well, it should be. You don’t have to bar hop with D-list country bands, but there has got to be some stuff you missed out on doing being married young. Lola 2.0 is all about becoming who you want to be, right? Start doing that!”

“Okay, okay. I’ll put some thought into it,” I agree.

“Atta girl! I expect to see a list when I get home. Don’t wait up,” she says with a wink.

As much as I hate to admit it, Tiff has a point. I got the makeover, found a new job, and filed for divorce – the first three steps on the new me plan, but then I coasted. I’ve buried myself in the move and working. I haven’t made much progress towards figuring out who I want to be.

I wish there was a blueprint on how to do this. I don’t know many people who got married right after college and I know even fewer who are already divorced at my age. I know I can’t be the only one, though.

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