Heart of the Game Page 13

  There weren’t any apps open at the time, so she’d thought his remark was just Charlie being Charlie, but now she suspected he’d been tagging his cyber graffiti. She stifled a groan, not wanting to explain her professional account had been hijacked by a three-year-old hacktivist. “I’m sorry. I must have forgotten to turn my phone off and sat on it in the car.”

  “You butt-tweeted to thirty thousand followers?”

  “Um, well, when you put it that way…yes.”

  He snickered. “You haven’t had a series off yet this season, have you?”

  “No, but really, I’m fine.”

  “I know. You’ve been stellar so far.”

  She heard the implied up until now on the end of the comment and frowned. “Okay then, no need to bench me.”

  “I’m not benching you. We’re almost to the All-Star break, and you haven’t used a single day of vacation.”

  “What would I do with a vacation? Sit around and watch baseball games on TV?”

  Simon laughed. “You know there are other things in life than baseball. Surely there’s something else you enjoy.”

  Her mind immediately flashed to Molly and the boys. She liked them. It would be fun to babysit the boys for a few days in a row. Maybe go to the zoo, or the City Museum, but she could do so without taking a day off. Although if she didn’t have a game to run off to, maybe she could stick around and have dinner with them, too, or perhaps see a movie. Dinner and a movie with Molly sounded nice and exactly like the sort of thing that might move them closer.

  They’d actually felt pretty close yesterday, though. She could still feel the feather-light brush of Molly’s fingers against her skin, see the emotions in her deep brown eyes, and hear the slight gasp of her breath. Had she felt the spark between them, too? If so, she hadn’t liked it much because she’d pulled back so quickly she’d left Duke’s head spinning. Even by the time she got to the game, she still couldn’t shake the haze Molly had left her in. She’d almost gone back over after work to try to reconnect but reasoned Molly had probably gone to bed, and if she hadn’t she was likely with Lauren.

  Lauren.

  She sighed. Duke kept waiting for her chance. She did want to be the best for Molly, but she wouldn’t foul the competition to get her way. She respected Lauren, maybe even liked her a little, not so much as a person but for what she gave Molly. She wouldn’t take any cheap shots. She’d have to wait for her own opening, but how could she find time alone with Molly if Lauren came to every dinner and every baseball game? What if she took a series off only to find Molly already had plans? Dinner and a movie with Molly and the kids and Lauren would be a nightmare. She didn’t want to sit around and watch someone else in the role she wanted to play.

  No, the evenings seemed to be Lauren’s time at the plate, which left her only the days with the boys while Molly went to work. Not that she didn’t want to spend more quality time with them, but she worried about getting Joe’s hopes up too much. She might never get a real shot with Molly, and even if she did, Lauren might still win. What would it do to Joe to lose her? Hell, what would it do to her if she lost him? She couldn’t think of herself here. She couldn’t even focus fully on Molly. Anytime anyone chased a relationship, they had to acknowledge the risk of getting hurt, but dating a single mom came with a lot of added responsibility.

  The situation and the possible pitfalls would likely be too much to navigate. She’d probably sit around watching baseball games, so she might as well stay at work. She loved her job. She’d reached the pinnacle of her field, and until yesterday she’d functioned at a high level. There was no reason to abandon that now, especially without a clearly superior alternative.

  “Duke, you still there?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I was thinking over your offer, but I’m going to pass. I love baseball, Beach. I know its ins and outs. I like the routine, the certainty of it. I like how everybody gets their turn at the plate, and I like that there’s always another game. This is all I have for sure right now, so I’d just as soon hold on to it, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. I’ll let you get back to work, then,” he said, then added, “but I need you to keep your eye on the ball.”

  “You got it.” Keeping her eye on the ball had been her strategy for years, and it had gotten her everything she’d wanted in life up until now. She needed to get back to what she knew.

  *

  Duke made it a point to get her blog posted early and tweet a few of the more juicy tidbits, like Cayden’s comments, to make up for her mistakes the day before. Then she headed down to Molly’s section during batting practice in the hopes of spending a few minutes with her and the boys before the game started, but they weren’t there yet. The Cardinals had long since left the field, and the Giants were wrapping up their turn in the cage, too. Glancing at her watch, she noticed they were about half an hour from game time. She wanted to make the most of the pre-game lull because she intended to head back up to the booth before first pitch and stay there for the entire game. No more sneaking off to see Molly and the kids during live play.

  She watched the grounds crew prepare the field as a few of the outfielders ran. She tried to quit worrying she wouldn’t get any time with Molly or the boys today. The thought made her stomach tighten more than it should have, but she told herself she needed to focus on her job as any professional would. She also suspected Lauren’s presence during the games might have put an added emphasis on her desire for professional distance.

  “Hi,” Molly said very close behind her.

  Duke jumped out of her seat and turned around quickly. “Hey.”

  “Were you lost in work mode there?” Molly asked.

  “Something like that.” She tapped Joe on the bill of his ball cap. “You guys ready for the game?”

  “Yeah, are you going to stay with us for a while?”

  “Actually, I need to get back up to the press booth pretty soon.”

  Joe frowned slightly, but Molly cut in. “Duke’s at work, honey. We’re lucky she can even spare some time now.”

  “I know,” he said in a tone that implied he might have understood the situation, but he didn’t have to love it. “I thought since Lauren wasn’t coming tonight we’d have an extra spot for Duke.”

  “Lauren’s not coming?”

  “No,” Joe answered, but Duke looked to Molly, who in turn looked back to the boys before seeming to ponder her response carefully.

  “No, she’s not. Something came up.” She hesitated like maybe she wanted to say more but decided against it. “You’re welcome to sit with us, but I know you’re working, so please don’t feel obligated.”

  “I’ve never considered you an obligation, Molly. You and the boys are always one of the best parts of my day.”

  Molly’s expression softened. “Wow, that’s saying a lot given what you do for a living and how much you love it.”

  Maybe she’d said too much, revealed too much, but she’d told the truth, and she wouldn’t backtrack now. The bigger problem, though, was what she intended to do with the information that Lauren wouldn’t be joining them. It shouldn’t have made a difference. She had work to do, and she’d sworn she wouldn’t cut any corners today. Still, she’d also been looking for a chance to spend quality time with Molly for weeks now. Why did the two most important things in her life have to require her attention at exactly the same time?

  Baseball was the safe bet. Baseball also didn’t have a girlfriend. Then again, baseball didn’t have big brown eyes or show a little hint of cleavage under its uniforms. Decisions, decisions.

  “I guess I might be able to stay for the first inning.” Duke couldn’t help herself, and she reasoned the game would last nine innings, so working from the stands for one of them couldn’t hurt much. “I’ll have to tweet, though…by myself, Charlie.”

  He laughed, giving every indication he knew he’d been caught and didn’t care. Then he patted his chair. “You sit here.”

  The game got
off to an inauspicious start, an easy ground ball to shortstop, then a foul out along the first base line. Joe and Duke both noted each play on their scorecards, his on paper, hers on the tablet, while Molly chatted about her day at work. It was so easy to sit with them, to chat with Joe about each play or smile over his head at Molly whenever one of the kids said something cute or funny. She could almost imagine there was no Lauren or no job to worry about and she was just enjoying an evening at the ballpark with her family, but the ease and appeal of thinking that way also made it dangerous. Molly’s family wasn’t hers, and she did have an important job to do.

  As if highlighting the work ahead, the batter at the plate connected with a fastball, arching it toward the outfield wall. She couldn’t track the ball into the late-day sun, so she instead tracked Cayden Brooks as he rushed to intercept it. He broke hard backward toward the outfield wall. Sprinting across the grass, his eyes focused over his head, his glove rose to partially shield his eyes from the sun. He seemed to have a perfect bead on the ball until his first foot hit the red clay warning track. The minute his cleats touched the dirt, he looked back, just a little glance, then a stutter step before he put his free hand back to brace himself. A fraction of a second later, he casually reached up with his glove as if to snatch an apple off a high branch, only to come up completely empty-handed.

  The ball thudded to the ground on the opposite side of him. He peeked into his glove, appearing surprised the ball wasn’t there, then looked frantically to the ground before scrambling to pick it up and make an off-balance throw to second base. The batter already stood securely on the bag without even having slid.

  The crowd released a collective groan with Joe and Duke joining in.

  “What just happened?” Molly asked.

  “He made an error, dropped the ball.”

  She rolled her eyes and elbowed Duke. “I saw that, but why? He made it to the right spot in plenty of time.”

  “He glanced back when he hit the warning track to see how far he was from the wall, and when he looked back up, he’d lost track of the ball.”

  “I thought he had it,” Joe said.

  “He did, too. Did you see the way he lifted his hand expecting a sure thing?” Duke sighed and tweeted the error. “I’m willing to bet he tried to catch a shadow, literally.”

  “What does that mean?” Molly asked.

  “When he took his eye off the ball, he lost sight of the real deal, and the only thing in the sun was the ball’s shadow.” Duke shifted in her seat, worried she should be taking more than a tweet away from the play. “He mistook the shadow for what he really wanted and tried to grab it.”

  “You can’t catch a shadow,” Joe said sounding confused. “They aren’t real.”

  Duke’s chest constricted. “But sometimes they look that way, and it’s easy to get confused.”

  “Then why did he do it?”

  “He shouldn’t have. He should know his job well enough to measure the depth of the warning track by feel, but if he doesn’t, if he misjudges it by even half a step, he’s going to hit the wall hard.”

  “I would’ve kept my eye on the ball anyway,” Joe said.

  He was right. Playing the game right meant more to him than the prospect of getting banged up. She felt the same way, or at least she had until recently.

  “I don’t doubt it, buddy. And I agree with you. If you can’t play the game right you don’t deserve to play at this level. Which means I need to get back to work.”

  “What?” he asked, disappointment flashing across his features in the form of a furrowed brow, but Molly put her hand lightly on his leg and he said, “Okay, I hope we can see you tomorrow.”

  “I look forward to it.” Every minute she wasn’t with them, part of her would wish she were. She wanted to spend time chatting with Joe or wrestling with Charlie. Mostly, though, she wanted more time with Molly, time to sit close and listen to her talk like they had after her first date with Lauren. They’d been so close there. She’d held Duke spellbound. If she’d suspected Molly was special before, that night had confirmed it.

  Molly was strong, smart, resourceful, noble, and inspiring. She was exactly the type of person Duke would want to build a life with, but was that a real possibility? She also dreamed of a life spent around the game of baseball. She’d worked for years, and through steadfast dedication and single-minded focus she’d achieved her goal. She loved her life. She loved her work. Maybe she could fall in love with Molly, too, but what would she have to give up to find out?

  *

  “Hey, Duke, Simon Beach here.”

  “Two calls from my editor in one day,” Duke sighed. She’d almost made it out the door without any more problems. The locker room had been quiet after the Cardinals’ loss. Players not eager to talk generally meant she had less to write about, and she’d turned in a short, comprehensive game report with plenty of time to spare. At least she thought she had. “It’s not that I don’t love to chat with you, but I get the feeling something’s up.”

  “Yeah, I wish I could deny it, but I actually do have to address a problem here.”

  Her palms instantly began to sweat. She’d been writing about baseball since her freshman year in high school, and she’d never had an editor rate her performance as anything but stellar. She didn’t even know what to say now, so she leaned against the concrete wall outside the press booth to brace herself. “Okay, um. Lay it on me.”

  “I’m not trying to bust your chops. I’m trying to understand how one of my best reporters missed the hottest items on the stove tonight.”

  “Um. I’m sorry?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. You’ve got nothing. SportsCenter keeps showing the Cayden Brooks play, and I’ve seen several other pieces on the ruling online already, but you didn’t even mention the changed ruling.”

  “I tweeted the play.”

  “You tweeted it as an error.”

  Her stomach dropped. “Hey, hold on for a sec, please.”

  She put her hand over the phone and stepped around the corner back into the press booth. The only writer left in the box glanced up from his papers. “Hey, Coop, what did they rule the Brooks play in the first inning?”

  He regarded her over the rim of his reading glasses much the same way a teacher looks at student who’s asked a stupid question. “If you’d been in here in the first inning, maybe you would’ve heard the ruling.”

  “Seriously?” She didn’t feel much like bantering right now.

  “Hey, you could always read about it in the paper tomorrow morning. You know, use the print media to save your skin before you use it to line your litter box.”

  She stared at him for a long, heavy moment, disbelief turning to frustration and adding to the fire under her skin. Whether he was legitimately pissed or hoping to use this as some sort of sadistic teaching moment, he wouldn’t tell her what’d happened.

  Uncovering the phone, she returned her attention to Simon. “Hey, I’m sorry. About everything. I’m going to do a separate piece on the whole Brooks thing tonight. You’ll have it for morning roll call. Something’s going on with him.”

  “Fine, but he’s not the only one dropping the ball right now, Duke. These mistakes are highly irregular for you. I want to know what’s going on.”

  “I won’t make excuses. I messed up. I wasn’t where I needed to be on this play. It won’t happen again.”

  “I hope not. You’re a good writer, and personally, I like you. I’m not one of the many people hoping to see you fail at this job, but if this trend continues, the vacation days I mentioned won’t be optional. Got it?”

  Her heart rate accelerated, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She hadn’t been reprimanded since she was a child, and never for anything even remotely related to baseball. The little dig about people wanting her to fail hit home too. “I got it.”

  Simon hung up, and Duke stood staring at her phone for several more minutes. What was happening to her life?
She couldn’t do anything right these days. Her disorientation and uncertainty had been hard enough when they centered on Molly. Women were supposed to be confusing, but baseball had always offered a refuge.

  She shook her head and lifted her messenger bag off the concourse floor. Now wasn’t the time for introspection. She’d have to face those larger questions eventually, but before that, she had to go back to work. She’d already dropped the ball once tonight. She couldn’t afford to do so again.

  *

  The sunlight streaked through Molly’s hair, revealing natural highlights of auburn and chocolate. Duke fought the desire to run her fingers through the long, graceful strands. She had to remain impersonal and impartial tonight, but it wasn’t easy to keep her distance when Molly spotted her and gave her a smile so radiant, it could have made a statue’s knees buckle. No, she couldn’t think that way. If her knees felt weak, she had only her late night to blame.

  She’d stayed at the ballpark until almost two o’clock in the morning trying to drum up anything that might help her offer the readers some insight on Cayden Brooks and the play in question, but Cayden had only himself to blame, and in one post-game interview on ESPN, he’d practically said as much before retreating to the showers. Everything about the play screamed error. And errors happened. No matter how much fans and writers tried to paint ballplayers as demigods, they were human. Nothing struck her as out of the ordinary about the error except for the fact that the official scorer hadn’t ruled it an error.

  Official scorers were supposed to be neutral and employed by the league instead of individual teams to prevent the appearance of impropriety, but like the players, they were human and tended to have a slight home-field bias. Every judgment call had a winner and loser, but there was no statistical neon sign to explain the ruling.

  Ultimately Duke had published a short blog on the play and concluded both Cayden Brooks and the Cardinal’s official scorer had committed errors, but something still didn’t feel right about the situation. Perhaps she’d missed some connection between the ruling and Cayden’s inflammatory comments before the game. Or maybe she merely wished for a bigger story to help cover up her own errors in reporting the event. The latter worried her most of all.