Dropped Third Strike (Portland Pioneers #1) (28 page)

“I don’t know why he would say that,” Kate said, looking back at her phone quickly.

Honestly, she’d been hesitant to go to dinner with both families, but when her parents suggested it, she didn’t have a good reason to decline. She couldn’t tell them why she didn’t want to face Reid. Her conversation with him – or rather his monologue – had shaken her deeply. His words were still fresh in her mind. She just kept hearing,
“I was in love with you, Katie.”
Her whole body had warmed at those words and she was surprised he didn’t notice the change in her. Then again, he’d bolted as soon as the words were out. Typical Reid. Get a little closer and then run away. Things had always been that way between them.

Hours later, she still didn’t know what to say when she faced him again. She’d have to figure it out, and now she’d have to make extra effort to appear normal with their parents as an audience and a suspicious one at that.

Thanks a lot Reid
.

She hoped they could manage friendly conversation long enough to convince their parents nothing was going on. It was only an hour or so. Surely they could pull that off, right?

Her mental pep talk did nothing to prepare her for the moment Reid walked up to them.

“Anyone else hungry?” he asked. “After a win like that, I’m starving.”

They all started talking about the game as the group headed out to the parking garage. Reid sounded proud as he talked about the solid hits and plays from the Pioneers, who had needed a walk-off home run from Ian Davis to secure the victory.

They split into two vehicles – the men in Reid’s SUV and the women in the rental car. Kate prayed the mothers wouldn’t ask her more about Reid. Thankfully, the women were more focused on getting to the restaurant than inquiring about any awkwardness between their children.

At the restaurant, the baseball talk continued for a while. After they placed their orders, Kate asked her parents about her siblings, hoping to keep the conversation in a safe zone. She was hyperaware of Reid’s presence. He was at the other end of the table and she had barely looked in his direction all night, but she could still feel him there.

She was relieved when dinner was over and the parents declared their eagerness to get back to the hotel to sleep. The only downside was that their hotel was in the opposite direction of the ballpark where her car was still parked.

“I can give you a ride back,” Reid said, addressing her for the first time all night.

They hadn’t talked directly to each other, but there really hadn’t been a need for it either. With their parents there, it was easy to talk to the whole group. But now they would be alone in a confined space. She didn’t know how she felt about that, but it really was her best option for getting back to her car. Calling a cab would be silly and it would probably require more waiting than she wanted to do. So she accepted Reid’s offer and tried to keep her reluctance hidden from their parents, who were watching the interaction.

After a few hugs, the group split up again. Kate climbed into the passenger seat of Reid’s car. His scent was everywhere in the vehicle and apparently he still wore the same cologne as he had in high school. She was immediately inundated with memories of prom and their first kiss, which segued into a mental replay of their most recent kiss in her living room. Reid was silent as all of this ran through Kate’s head. She wondered what he was thinking about but then decided maybe it was better she didn’t know. In fact, part of her wished she could go back to not knowing how Reid had felt about her all those years ago. Somehow, believing he hadn’t cared was easier than knowing he’d been in love with her and left anyway. While she understood his fears, especially after losing a friend, it still didn’t justify the way he’d ended things with her.

“It was fun seeing our parents, huh?”

His voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, I didn’t realize your folks were coming too or I would have given you a heads up,” Kate said.

“That’s alright. It was a nice surprise,” Reid said.

“I know you hadn’t seen them in a while.”

“No, but it won’t be that long again. I feel like we put the past behind us today.”

“That’s good.”

“I wish you and I could do that too.”

Kate didn’t know how to respond so she just looked out the window. Reid didn’t push her either, and neither of them said another word until he stopped his vehicle next to her car.

“Here we are,” Reid said.

“Thanks for the ride,” Kate said to him.

“No problem,” Reid said. “And Kate …”

She was halfway out of the car when he said her name. Against her better judgment, she turned back to face him.

“I know it might take time, but I do hope we can put our past behind us at some point. You still mean a lot to me,” he said. “I’ll wait as long as it takes and be ready when you decide you’re not mad at me anymore.”

“Reid, I’m not mad at you,” she said. “Trust me, I wish I was.”

Chapter 12

Kate meant what she said to Reid. She wished she could be mad at him. That would be so much easier to deal with than what she was really feeling.

Mostly, she was just hurt. That’s really all she felt when it came to him. Years after his actions, she was still just hurt. Even though he had apologized numerous times, she still couldn’t let go. She was starting to think she might never, and that bothered her more than her anger. Why couldn’t she invest her emotions in someone who actually deserved it? Someone more like Neal.

She tried to be mad at Reid, but it was no use, and she knew it. She had tried to be mad at him for years, but she never quite mastered it. There were times she thought she was mad at him, but when she looked closer, she realized she only wanted to think she was mad at him. It was better than facing reality.

Reid wasn’t to blame. She was.

Reid had broken her heart, but she’d never bothered to repair it. Instead, she just put up walls in the name of protecting herself. But it hadn’t made her stronger at all and she had only hurt herself more in the process. She had allowed Reid to control her emotions and every dating decision she’d made in the meantime. Or non-decision, as it was in some cases. In addition to rejecting a few suitors, there had been many she simply avoided. She’d always thought that made her look stronger and more in control. Now she realized it was quite the opposite. She’d never been in control. She had given that over years earlier and never really took it back.

She didn’t need closure from Reid. She didn’t need an apology from Reid. She needed those things from herself. And that was way harder than getting them from Reid.

Believing Reid had been the bad one all these years had been comfortable for her. She still believed he had done her wrong and she would probably always believe that. But she also needed to admit and accept that she’d been wrong too. And she didn’t like that. She’d never been good at accepting when she made a mistake. In this case, it meant she’d been wrong more than once and she’d made the same mistake over and over for a very long time. There had been no strength in her decisions and actions. Only weakness. Admitting she’d been wrong and weak for so many years was rough. It made her doubt her judgment in many areas, and she wondered what all she had missed out on because of her bad decisions. Dwelling on that was just as pointless as blaming Reid. And also quite exhausting. But she did it anyway.

While Kate battled her inner emotions and thoughts, the Pioneers were battling for a postseason berth. This meant she spent a lot of time at the ballpark – looking at contracts and numbers during the day and watching games in the evening. There were even a few extra inning affairs that kept her in her seat until after 11.

She didn’t mind those long days at all. The team was exciting to watch and the fact that they were playing meaningful games in September was even more exciting. In the final week of the season, the Pioneers enjoyed their first-ever champagne celebration in the clubhouse as they clinched a wild card spot. October baseball was coming to Pioneer Stadium.

Kate was grateful for the distraction. The busy days left her too exhausted to deal with her Reid-related worries. Most days anyway. She occasionally ran into him in the ballpark, which seemed smaller than ever lately. Their interactions remained civil, but Kate could tell Reid wanted to continue the conversation about their past and how it had leaked into their present. The way he looked at her and lingered a little longer after their brief business discussions seemed to let her know the door open for that conversation. She just wasn’t ready for that yet, and she was glad when he didn’t push it. He wasn’t shying away from her either. He was letting her decide when she was ready.

Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy. Sure, he’d been selfish and made some bad decisions, but that didn’t mean he was inherently bad.

The players certainly didn’t seem to think he was. In just a few months, Reid had made a powerful impression on the team. Kate shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, Reid had gotten to her pretty easily too – even if it was in a completely different realm. Reid just had an aura about him that made him easy to like. People gravitated to him without realizing it or understanding why.

As talk began swirling about the possibility of Reid leaving after the season, several Pioneers players approached Kate and begged her to do whatever she could to keep him. No one was more insistent about it than Derek Beaman. He even offered to transfer some of his pay – which was at the major league minimum – to Reid if it meant he would stay.

“That’s quite the sacrifice,” Kate said to Derek. “It’s not possible for me to do that, but I’m glad you like Reid that much.”

“Is he leaving because of his past with you?” Derek asked. “I saw some of the stories that came out after that night at your house, and he’s told me that you two have a bit of a rocky past.”

Kate’s face flushed a little. She didn’t know what Derek knew, but she sensed it was more than she wanted him to know.

“I hope you haven’t mentioned that to anyone else in the clubhouse,” she said.

“No ma’am,” he said. “I told Reid anything he told me that night was between us. Just like he’s kept secrets for me.”

Kate nodded, and now she wondered what all Reid had said. And what secrets of Derek’s Reid had kept. She decided none of it was relevant at the moment.

“Good,” she said. “And for the record, my past with Reid has no bearing on his employment – one way or the other.”

“I didn’t figure … but I had to ask,” Derek said. “I think you could convince him to stay though. He obviously listens to you. Please. We need him. I need him.”

“Reid and I will have that discussion when the time is right,” Kate replied. “But at the moment, I don’t think Reid is thinking much about next season. And neither am I, honestly. We’re both just focused on the postseason. That’s what you need to be focused on too, Derek. Especially since you’re starting the first game.”

Derek grinned. “Yeah, I know. Trust me. I’ll be ready.”

Kate smiled and nodded. “You worry about the Tigers. Let me worry about Reid.”

The young pitcher seemed to feel better when he left her office. Kate hoped her answer hadn’t given him a false sense of optimism. She hadn’t decided whether she wanted Reid to stay or not. On one hand, he had given their offense the boost it needed and clearly his impact reached beyond just field performance. Players trusted him and counted on him. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure she could take another year of her emotions being in such upheaval. Then again, she had let her feelings for him rule too many decisions in her past, and it hadn’t done her any favors. She needed to approach this issue from a purely professional angle. With that in mind, she knew she needed to at least offer him another year as hitting coach. With that in mind, she knew what she needed to do.

Kate couldn’t think about next season yet though. The Pioneers’ current season was still very much alive.

Derek kept his promise to Kate. He was lights out in in Comerica Park. He shut down the Tigers’ offense almost completely, allowing just four hits through seven innings. He wanted to finish the game, but the manger didn’t want to take chances with Derek’s arm, so he let the bullpen take over. They quickly gave up three runs, but the Pioneers’ offense had already put five runs on the board. Derek and his team won the wild card game, enjoyed another clubhouse party, and advanced to the division series to take on the Yankees.

New York scored eight runs in the first inning of the series and went on to win game one by a score of 11-3. Kate wasn’t sure how the players would respond to such a beating, but they showed their character and rallied for an extra-inning 5-4 win in the second game. Then it was back to Portland, where the home team again won the first game. There were plenty of Yankees fans in the crowd, the roar at the end of the 7-4 win proved the Pioneers fans had come out to support their boys in their first postseason game in Portland.

Pioneers fans were back in force the following night too. Derek was on the mound again in the most important game in Portland baseball history. And his career. Kate didn’t see any sign of nerves from her young pitcher. Only focus and determination. He retired the first twelve batters he faced, including six on strikeouts. No one went near him in the dugout, and he sat at one end of the bench just staring at the field.

Kate always wondered what went through a pitcher’s head in those moments.

Were they even seeing their own batters or were they already mentally prepping for the next half-inning?

The Yankees pitcher was matching Derek pitch for pitch. There had been no base runners for either team through four innings. The zeroes on the scoreboard continued until the seventh inning, when Ian Davis hit a leadoff double through the middle. The Portland crowd went crazy. The excitement died a little as the next two batters struck out. The noise returned when Carson Slater snuck a two-out single by the first baseman and down the right field line, allowing Davis to round third and cross home plate.

Derek went back to the mound for the eighth with a 1-0 lead. He looked just as calm and collected as he had the entire game and that demeanor carried through in his pitching. He notched his ninth strikeout and the infield took care of two easy hits to keep the bases empty for their pitcher. They weren’t able to give him any more of a cushion in the bottom half of the inning though, so the score remained the same as Derek headed back out for the ninth. He immediately got a strikeout and a ground ball out.

The tension in the ballpark was palpable. Fans didn’t seem to know whether to be loud or quiet.

Derek looked at his catcher, Carson, for a long moment before delivering the first pitch – a strike on the inside corner. He went outside with the next pitch, but it was a little too outside. He missed the strike zone with the next pitch too. And the next one. Kate saw the first signs of nerves on her pitcher’s face as the batter trotted to first base on a walk. Derek’s bid for perfection was over, and more importantly than that, the Pioneers’ lead was in danger, especially when the next batter hit a blooper to left, putting runners on first and second.

Carson trotted out to the mound to return the ball to Derek. Kate couldn’t read the catcher’s lips, but she saw him say something to Derek and pat his shoulder before heading back to his spot behind the dish. The next Yankees hitter got a piece of the first pitch, but fouled it back into the stands. That continued for three more pitches until one hit went fair but right into the glove of shortstop Justin Tanner.

It seemed to take a moment – but only a moment – for the players and fans to realize what had just happened. Suddenly, the stadium erupted with noise. Chaos of the best kind ensued as confetti flew and there were camera flashes everywhere. The Yankees players had disappeared quickly and only a sea of brick red jerseys remained. Jerseys that were quickly turning an even deeper shade of red as the players doused each other with water.

Derek Beaman’s jersey was the most saturated, and – if it was possible – his smile was the biggest of all the players. And rightfully so. This was quite possibly the best night of his life. He had pitched a complete game shutout to help his team win their first American League Division Championship.

Kate smiled, happy for the young pitcher, as she remained at her seat, taking it all in. This was Pioneers history and she didn’t want to forget a moment of it. For the first time, the stream of people leaving the stadium was just a trickle. No one wanted to miss out on this. Music blasted over the loud speakers. There were high fives and hugs on the field and in the stands.

She caught sight of Reid in the middle of the fray. He almost blended completely in with the players. He mirrored their joy more than any other member of the coaching staff. It only proved to Kate that he was still a player at heart. As she watched him, she was surprised at what she felt – pride and and happiness. Any bitterness, anger, or hostility she’d once had for him was gone. None of it remained. She wondered when the negativity had left her.

Was it just chased by the joy of this moment?

Or had it just slowly melted away over the past few weeks?

Then she realized she didn’t care. She was just glad. The freedom from those feelings made this moment a lot easier to enjoy.

“They’re going to make a movie of your life someday, kid,” Reid said to Derek as they embraced.

“I’ll make sure they cast someone good for you,” Derek said, laughing. “Brad Pitt, maybe.”

“He’ll be too old by then,” Reid said. “Maybe Chris Hemsworth.”

“I think he’s a little too big,” Derek said.

“What are you saying?” Reid asked, pulling back and flexing.

Derek just laughed.

“In all seriousness, you pitched a hell of a game,” Reid said. “I knew you had that in you somewhere. I’m just way impressed you pulled it out tonight.”

“I don’t know where it came from,” Derek said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Maybe from her,” Reid said, pointing to the family section of seats.

There, standing at the railing, was a little girl with brown curls, eyes exactly like Derek’s, and a tiny Pioneers jersey that said ‘Beaman’ on the back. Reid watched as Derek looked up at his daughter, flanked by his parents, and his eyes filled with tears. The older man said something and the little girl waved. Derek took a few steps toward the edge of the field, still surrounded by his teammates but oblivious to anything except that little girl.