Page 41 of Double Play

“Absolutely. I’m looking forward to seeing all the baseball players in theirtuxes.”

Nina clapped a hand over her mouth. “What are we doing? We’re talking about baseball players! We sworenotto!”

“Gah!” Maggie took up her pencil again and got to work. “Changing the subject. Did I tell you about the position my mother found for meatMIT?”

“MIT? Seriously? By the way, I can’t believe I’m friends with such a brainiac. Are you going totakeit?”

“I don’t know.” Maggie tucked a curl behind her ear. “It involves statistics related to glacier melt and climatechange.”

“So you’d be saving theplanet?”

“And losingmymind.”

They both laughed. “I sure will miss you if you go back to Boston.” Nina felt sad at the very thought of Maggie leaving. As different as they were, they’d bonded so thoroughly that Maggie felt like a sister by now. “You’re the best roommate I’veeverhad.”

“You’re saying I beat out the Israeliassassin?”

“By a mile. But don’t tell her that. She can kill a man with her left thumb.” They smiled at each other and continued their art project. Nina glanced at the bird Maggie was putting the finishing touches on. “It’sanowl.”

“I guess so.” Maggie squinted at it. “Something between an owl and abluebird.”

“If you see an owl, that means change is comingyourway.”

Maggie shot her the look she used when Nina talked about crystals or chakras or anything not strictlyscientific.

But change was coming; Nina could feel it. And since she always looked on the bright side of things, she just knew the change would be somethingfantastic.

16

Everythingin the Major League was different. Faster. Louder. More crowded. More stressful. More exhilarating. More crushing. In a million years, Jim would never get used to the reporters who swarmed him after a game, or the thunder of applause, or the rolling boom of jeers. The girls who screamed his name, the speed of the fastballs, the attendants scurrying to carry his bags, the charter flights to other cities, the expensive hotels, the steak dinners—it felt like a blursometimes.

Going from Kilby to San Diego was like trading in an old Chevy truck for aPorsche.

The experience was overwhelming. When he wasn’t playing or fulfilling his off-field team responsibilities, he slept a lot. Each day that passed, the pressure got more intense because the Friars came closer to making the playoffs. Every at-bat got scrutinized by the batting coach and manager. Every game got picked apart by the newspapers. He operated at full throttle every game, every post-game, every teamevent.

It was good to be back with his old Catfish teammates who were now playing in San Diego. Caleb Hart was on fire. He had one of the lower ERA’s in the league and had nearly pitched a perfect game earlier in theseason.

He and Mike Solo made a great battery, though Mike mostly filled in as a backup catcher. His most important contribution to the team was being an inspirational mood-lifter. He excelledatthat.

The Major League hitters still hadn’t figured out Eli Anderson’s knuckle ball. They often left the batter’s box scratching their heads and cursing. His fiancée, Caitlyn, an incredible baker and candy-maker, kept the entire clubhouse supplied withsweets.

It was the most amazing, phenomenal, exhausting time in his twenty-fiveyears.

He didn’t have the time to look for another place, so he kept extending his stay in Trevor’s guest room. When he got home, he was too exhausted to do much more than scan the sports channels, thencrash.

He didn’t have time to call his parents, his little sister, his friends back in New York. Only Nina—and he even nodded off sometimes while talking toher. Crush, Wendy, Paige, the wedding…paying attention was difficult when he kept reliving his at-bats and filing away details of each pitcher he’dfaced.

Then, in the second game of a day-night double-header, he strained a muscle in his groin while diving for a grounder. The trainer recommended he sit out the next game, and Jim limped home to Trevor’s and fell straight into bed. He woke up in the middle of the night with the needtopee.

On his way back from the bathroom, he heard Trevor in the kitchen talking on the phone to Paige. He knew it had to be Paige because of the warm, intimate tone in the big Viking’s voice. He paused when he heardhisname.

“Lieberman? Nah, he hasn’t said shit to me about it. … Yeah, he’s good. Having the time of his life. … Nina will get over it. … Paige, I’m not his babysitter. He’ll have to figure it out for himself. Nina keeps telling me not to interfere so I’m staying out. … Hell no. If he wanted to come, he would have spoken up. … Yeah, sweetie. … Yup, they’re letting me sit out one. I’ll see you tomorrow. … Yup, Crush’s airstrip.Loveyou.”

Trevor hung up, and in the sudden quiet, Jim stepped toward hisbedroom.

“Beebs, is that you?” Trevor stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Hey dude, there’s a package for you, did youseeit?”

“Did not.Thanks.”

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