Home Run Baby: A Sports Romance (22 page)

I watch the game, barely following as the camera locks on his jersey. He bolts down the field with the ball in hand, expertly dipping and dodging the other team as he flies towards the end zone.

She’s probably watching this, too.

I brush the thought away and flick on the sink, trying my best to ignore the angry man at the bar.

“What’s an asshole like me supposed to do to get a little service around here?”

I spin around, recognizing the voice before I even see him. “Devin!”

He holds up his hands. “What the hell are you doing behind the bar of a dive like this place?”

I laugh. “Just a temporary situation.”

“Well, yeah. You’re on the damn roster.”

“Being on the roster doesn’t pay my rent yet.”

“Gotta wait ‘til next season before Scrooge McDuck-ing into a pile of cash.” He mimes a dive and I chuckle.

“Something like that.”

“Well, since you’re back there, how about you give me a beer, eh?”

I grab two and set one in front of him. “It’s nice to see you, Devin,” I say, tapping the neck of my bottle against his.

“You, too,” he says, bringing it to his lips. “How’s your girl?”

I force a second sip down. “She’s not my girl anymore.”

“Really?”

“Never was, I suppose.”

“Huh…” He takes another drink.

“What?” I ask.

“Just…
huh
.”

I shrug. “Shit happens, man.”

“And mostly to you.”

I breathe that in. “Yes, it does.”

“But hey — you’re
Home Run Hunter
! This time, next year, you’ll have gone through about dozen just like her.”

I force a chuckle, staring at my beer. “Maybe.”

Just like her.
I don’t think there’s anyone in this world quite like Daisy Hawthorne. I’m not sure if that’s comforting or not, though.

“And there it is,” Devin says, smirking.

I blink. “What?”

“That far-off stare she was looking for.”

I study his curled mouth, tossed to one side like a demented clown. “She?”

Devin reaches behind him and withdraws a rolled magazine from his back pocket. “Trisha sent me out here with this…”

I recognize the logo along the top with that indisputable font.
Sports Illuminated
.

“Did she finish the holiday exposé?”

I reach for it but Devin snaps it back.

“Now… I’m just the messenger here, Hunter…”

I pause. “What’d she do?”

“You’re not gonna like this,” he says, speaking slowly.

“Devin…” I hold out my hand, “give me the magazine.”

“Okay, but…” He slides the stool an extra foot away from me before tossing the magazine onto the bar. “Again,
just the messenger.
”

I pick it up and unfold it, flipping it open to the back where Trisha’s exposés usually reside. There’s a photo of me sprawled across the page but it’s not the normal athletic pose I expected.

It’s a photo of me and Daisy — one of many selfies snapped of the two of us — along with a catchy, bold-printed title.

Home Run Baby.

I grit my teeth. “What the hell is this?”

“Keep reading,” Devin says, drinking his beer.

On June 11th, 2016, Hunter Novak walked out onto the baseball field in Hartford, Connecticut and he hit a home run straight into the crowd. It’s not the first time, nor would it be the last, but this home run was special…

On that same day, Daisy Hawthorne walked into that same stadium. She sat down next to her twin sister, Rose, and watched with excitement as Home Run Hunter hit his first homer of the day. The next thing she knew, the lights went out, and Daisy woke up in the hospital with a headache and something special…

“Does Daisy know about this?”

Devin shakes his head.
“Keep reading.”

Daisy Hawthorne was pregnant with Hunter Novak’s child. Sound a little far-fetched? A bit too coincidental? Well, I’m just getting started—

I stop reading. “What the hell is she doing? She can’t print this.”

“She already has…” he says. “Article goes up on the website tonight; magazine hits stands on Tuesday.”

“Tell her to pull it.”

“It’s a human interest story,” he argues. “People love this shit.”

“I could
sue her
for this shit.”

He holds up his hands. “I am but her humble concubine, my friend. But, if you ask me, she’s got a point.”

“A
point
?”

“You’re telling me that story
isn’t
extraordinary?” he asks. “That’s it’s not just a
tad
interesting?”

“You think I haven’t noticed? You think Daisy and I didn’t consider that before splitting up? That we didn’t think twice about it?
We did
.”

“Think about it again, Hunter. The universe is—”

“Full of shit.”

“I used to think so, too,” he says. He gestures to the magazine between us. “Then, I read that. Now, I’m not so sure and neither will millions of other readers come tomorrow morning. Think about that before you implode.”

“I don’t need to think about it, Devin.” I push the magazine away. “Daisy and I didn’t work out.
End of story.
”

He scratches his head and lets out a sigh. “All right. If you say so.”

I pour the last of my beer down my throat and toss the empty bottle into the bin behind the bar. Devin lays some money down to pay for them before sliding off the stool. “It was nice seeing you again, buddy.”

“Don’t forget your magazine,” I say.

He smirks. “It ain’t mine.”

He walks off, leaving it behind on the bar.

I stare at it, trying to ignore it but the heat in my face is too much.

What the hell is Trisha thinking printing something like this? And using these photos? I can only imagine how Daisy’s going to react to this. She could barely stand to look at these herself, let alone have them published for millions to gawk at.

I grab the magazine, ready to throw the thing away but I pause and lean back against the wall. I turn the page, finding more photos and more details of our days on the road together with the team.

Hunter and Daisy did everything they could to keep their affair from us but no amount of sneaking and secret texts could prevent that look on their faces when they saw each other. Daisy’s cheeks turned bright pink at the mere mention of his name; while Hunter looked upon her as his name would suggest: fierce and protective.

I glance around the bar for customers but quickly resume reading. It’s all here; all of it. Daisy and her little baby bump. Her silly smile. My, admittedly, handsome mug. I don’t think I’ve ever seen myself so happy and just flashing back to these moments fills my gut with butterflies.

Their affair was only supposed to be one night but then fate intervened. It knew something they didn’t; something that most of us spend our lifetimes searching for but never find. If there’s one thing all of us can learn from the
Home Run Baby
it’s that every once in a while, we all need to look up into the sky. Rain or shine, there just might be a baseball careening down to hit us, too.

The old man growls at the television again and I glance up at the football game. Two players dance in the end zone; one being the jubilant Kirby, of course.

Fate. If I still believed in that stuff, I’d think this game was a sign. I’d think that girl across the bar shooting flirty gazes at me with a whiskey sour clenched in her hand was a sign. I’d definitely see this magazine as one, too.

But there’s no such thing as fate. There’s just coincidence.

I roll up the magazine and toss it into the trash.

Chapter 29

Daisy

Rose groans and holds onto her belly. “Ughhh,” she says, “I feel so
fat
.”

I look at her sitting beside me on the couch, my eyes bouncing between her taut abs and the freak show expanding beneath my sweater. “Yes, please. Tell me more about how fat you are.”

“Oh, shut up,” she chuckles. “At least you have a partner in there, eating half of whatever you do.
I
have to work hard to digest what I eat all by myself.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t eat leftover turkey sandwiches every three hours.”

“Girls, be nice.”

Mom walks in from my kitchen with a glass of ice water in her hand. She leans over and hands it to me. “Do you need anything else, Daisy?”

I shake my head. “No, Mom. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? I can grab another pillow from your room…”

“Mom,”
I smile at her. “I’m fine. Sit down. Watch the game. Please.”

She lowers down into the armchair with her eyes on the television. “So, which one is…?”

“Number 14!” Rose shouts, pointing at the screen. “That’s my Johnny!”

I look at my twin, seeing that look of pride in her big eyes. It kind of makes me miss it a little. A sold out stadium; all eyes glued to home plate. He raised the bat and they all fell silent.

I push the thoughts away to focus on the football game instead.

It’s a bit surreal. I never expected my family to come all the way out here to spend Thanksgiving with me. I didn’t even have to ask, not that I would have anyway. My mother called to tell me when she and Rose would arrive. She didn’t want me traveling
in my condition;
a phrase that’s really starting to piss me off, to be quite honest. Pregnant or not, I can still take care of myself.

I wince at another sharp pain in my abdomen.

“Daisy, you okay?” Mom asks, reacting quickly.

“It’s just some gas, I think,” I say, exhaling. “Had it all day. No worries, Mom.”

She eyes me for a few more moments before turning back to the game. “Have you two decided on a date yet?” she asks Rose.

Rose sighs. “Not yet. Next summer, maybe? I should be done with grad school by then.”

“That doesn’t give you a lot of time to plan a wedding, Rose.”

“We don’t need anything too extravagant,” she answers. “My friend, Eliza, planned her wedding in like a month and it was
perfect
. I’m sure I can do the same, especially with her help.” She nudges my arm. “And
yours
. You’ll be my photographer, right?”

I nod. “Sure.”

“And my maid of honor.”

“Okay.”

“And this kid can be the ring-bearer… or the flower girl.”

“I’ll have to check its schedule.”

Rose continues on with a disappointed sigh, chatting about her wedding but I pause. It was just a little joke that slipped right off my tongue without thinking about it.

I’ll have to check its schedule
.

I stare at my stomach. I’ve known for a while now whether this kid is a boy or a girl but I don’t want anyone getting too attached to the idea of it. I have no idea where this kid will be in a few weeks, let alone next summer.

I stand up off the couch.

“Where are you going?” Mom asks, her senses on high-alert.

“I’m going to walk around for a bit,” I say, raising a calm hand. “Just a little restless.”

I walk off down the hall, feeling her eyes still on me and Rose’s voice hovering over everything. The baby shifts inside as I walk, drawing another uncomfortable pang inside and I pause to lean against my bedroom doorway. I close my eyes, taking slow breaths until it finally settles.

“Being pregnant sucks.”

I look up to see my mother standing in the hall with me, easily reading my mind.

I nod. “Yeah.”

“I remember when I carried you girls, I was pissed off
all the time
,” she says. “From day one to week forty, it just got worse. Your dad put up with it
somehow
.”

I chuckle.
Somehow
was always her way of nicely phrasing that dad put up with her by banging the neighbor’s housekeeper. “Sounds about right.” I push off the door frame to pace a bit more, entering my room and she flicks on the light behind me.

“It was mostly just deflection,” she says, watching me. “The reality was that I wasn’t angry at all, I was just
scared
.”

I look over at her, noticing the knowing flicker in her eyes as she stares at me. “No, I’m not scared, Mom. I’m fine.”

“I pulled the same brave crap, too, kiddo,” she says, shaking her head. “I know what you’re thinking.
How can I do this? I don’t know anything about being a mom. I’m gonna fail.
Sure, I had
twins
growing in there, but every first-time mom feels the same way.”

I sit down on my bed. “Mom,
I’m fine
,” I say again.

She raises a brow and steps into the room. “The only one that saw through it at the time was my own mother. Finally, after thirty weeks of watching me snap, crackle, and pop at the slightest annoyance, your grandmother pulled me aside and taught me to always remember my ABCs.”