Out of Bounds (Reedsville Roosters #5) (5 page)

“Knew that was coming. What else?”

“And you need to be chaperoned at all times until you’re offered an official spot on the roster.”

Gary set down his phone and tugged both earlobes hard, thinking maybe he was congested and hadn’t heard the man right. He hit the speaker button. “Not sure I caught that, Wallace.”

“I think you did. Long and short of it is that some designated party needs to get you where you need to be when you need to be there.”

“Un-fucking-believable. And also give me sappy-ass pep talks reminding me to be on my best behavior, huh?”

“Well, yeah. That’s part of the deal, I imagine.”

“What about the
I’m a grown-ass man
part? Last I checked, I didn’t need a parent moving me around, washing my face, making sure I’m dressed, and seeing that I turn up three minutes early for anything I’m supposed to do.”

Actually, he did. His mother told him so at least three times per week and had actually insinuated that he move home so she could “handle” him. Mostly, he didn’t take her calls.

“Being on-time was never even your biggest problem. You would be there and yet still a million miles away. The fact your stats were as good as they were probably has more to do with sheer luck than skill.”

“You’re wrong about that. Just because I seem like I’m cutting up and cracking jokes doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention. I’ve got good instincts for baseball. Even Clint thinks so.”

“Well, he’d know and, okay, maybe you’re paying half attention. You ever get that ADD of yours under control?”

“Fuck you, man.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, either, because I’m in a good mood.”

“I sure as shit couldn’t tell.”

“Anyway, that’s the deal, Morstad. You can appoint your own chaperone, or I could try to rustle up someone for you.”

Like hell you will.
Gary didn’t trust Wallace as far as he could throw him. The man might have been interested in having Gary rejoin the team, but he was pettier than two warring drag queens who showed up to an event wearing the same wig and dress.

Gary sputtered his lips. “Assuming I accept these terms, how long would I have to keep the shadow on me?”

“Until after you’ve been offered a spot on the roster.”

“Any idea how long that might be?”

“Nope,” Wallace said.

“You’d keep me on the hook all season with no sure bet.”

“What are you complaining about? You’d be getting paid.”

“That drop-in-the-bucket pittance? You gotta be kidding me. You shouldn’t be so damned surprised the guys are breaking curfew because they’re out hustling on the side trying to pay bills however they can.”

“I don’t set the pay. All I do is manage the team, and that includes recruiting players. So, whoopdie-do. What do you say? If you agree, I’ll tell the travel agent to go ahead and send you the ticket confirmation and we’d expect to see you in the office, bright and early on Tuesday.”

“Come on, man. You’ve gotta give me some time. Assuming I can even find anyone willing to fly down there with me and who could take the time off work, I still need to decide whether or not I’m even going to go along with the scheme. ’Cause honestly? I’m leaning a lot toward
fuck no
.”

“Shit, I know circumstances aren’t ideal, but can’t you suck it up for a little while? Maybe Cassavetes will sweeten up a little in the next couple of weeks, once the sting of Hathaway’s last insult wears off.”

“What the hell did Quinn do this time?”

“He told Cassavetes he was never going to see his granddaughter and called him some names that probably only make sense to other people from Montana. Something about cows. I don’t know. Anyway, you’ve got three hours to let me know. The travel agent is leaving the office at noon.”

“Wait. Three hours isn’t enough to—”

“Bye.” Wallace disconnected.

“Fuck!” Gary pounded the dresser, sending the contents of his coffee mug splashing.

“Fuck!”

Dean, along with everyone else at the kitchen table, turned his attention to the hallway at the sound of Gary’s shouted expletive.

Then there was stomping in the back of the house, some loud but incomprehensible muttering, and then the pipes groaned and sputtered as water pressure shifted. Gary must have turned on the shower.

“Should I go check on him?” Ken asked.

“Nah,” Clint said. “If he was talking to Wallace, swearing is the usual and expected response.”

“Whenever I hear you talking about him with Bart or Evan, you never have anything flattering to say about him,” Olivia said. “Why do guys keep playing for him?”

“Lack of choice. Wallace hasn’t been doing the greatest job retaining players in the past couple of years, so he’s more generous about getting those contracts slung around than a lot of other managers. Some teams can afford to be choosy, but Wallace is not only trying to maintain the improved record the team’s been putting up in recent seasons, but also keep the roster stable. I’m sure he’s getting a lot of flak from the team owner, but still. Wallace is an insufferable jerk, and everyone knows.”

“All the guys on the team are looking for major league attention?” Dean asked.

“Not all of them. Some are on their way to retirement, like Bart was. Some guys play for extra cash during the summer. Baseball isn’t their bread and butter and never will be.”

“And Gary?”

“I think Gary wanted to do what Clint did,” Olivia said. “Of course, I’m just speculating.”

Clint waved her on. “No, you’re right. I think if Gary had gone to college and played ball there, he’d probably be three years into a contract in Boston or New York right now. He
wanted
to play ball, and always told us that was what he was going to do.”

“But?” Dean asked, probably more shocked than anyone that he gave a damn. He’d got into the car repair business because a high school guidance counselor had told him he’d have a nearly recession-proof career. He wondered sometimes about how other people found their callings.

“But…Gary has a tendency to lose sight of the important stuff sometimes,” Clint said. “He’ll get distracted and sloppy sometimes, and I guess that’s to be expected. If he were on his A-game, he’d be unstoppable, but even without being on it, he’s pretty damned impressive. As much as I hate to admit this, he might even be better than I was. He’s got a crazy good throwing arm and that man can climb a wall for a ball like no one I’ve ever seen.”

“What’s distracting him?” Lo asked.

“Not my business to say. Don’t worry, though.” Clint released Sidney from her seat and stood with her. “Nothing bad. Just personal for him.”

“Where are you going?” Olivia asked.

“My mother wanted to video chat with Sidney. She felt bad about not being here yesterday, but you know how my father is.”

“I take it he’s not home right now to overhear the call, then.”

“You’re so smart. One of so many reasons why I love you.”

“Aw.”

Lo turned to Dean, smiled, and stretched her arms over her head. “Ready to hit the road?”

“What’s the hurry?” Olivia asked.

“I don’t want us to overstay our welcome. I’m sure you’ve got tons of things to do today.”

“Eh. Not really. Beyond pulling weeds in the garden and planting some more tomatoes, all I had planned was splashing in the pool for a while with Sidney. Ken’ll probably fiddle under the hood of that ugly thing in the driveway, and Clint will likely walk between the two of us taking pictures of us at our worst. Stay. Unless you’ve got something else to do.”

Dean already knew what Lo was going to ask before she turned that sweet, questioning face to him.

He shrugged. “I could help Ken.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He reached over and gave her shoulder a squeeze. At least at the Morstads’, she wouldn’t be bored. Dean wouldn’t have to try so hard to find fresh things to talk about, and wouldn’t feel so stupid if he rehashed the same shit he’d already talked about to death. He was trying to do better, but was fresh out of creativity.

“I’ll go find you a sun hat.” Olivia pushed back from the table, paused at the side to crack her spine, and then continued toward the laundry room. “You can help me in the garden before the sun becomes too punishing.”

“I didn’t know you were a gardener, Liv.”

“She’s a
fabulous
gardener,” Ken said. “My girl went from zero to sixty in no time at all.”

“There’s just something about having your very own place to make something out of,” Olivia called out. “I didn’t have that before I met Clint and Ken. I was always moving, looking for the next place.”

“That sounds like me.” Gary re-entered the kitchen with his hair still dripping wet onto his shirtless chest and wearing some low-slung athletic shorts that seemed to have been an afterthought in his dressing. The black mesh things had a couple of large holes at the thighs.

Classy.

“Where’s Clint? I need to talk to him about something.”

“Videoconferencing with his mother.” Olivia returned wearing one floppy straw hat and carrying another.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “Can’t let her see me on camera. Clint usually does me the favor of pretending he doesn’t know where I am.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“No, unless you can take an indefinite amount of time off to babysit me in Florida.”

Olivia cringed. “You talked to Wallace?”

“Yeah.” Gary settled into the chair across from Dean and massaged the sides of his nose. “The guy is sick,” Gary said. “He claims the idea was Cassavetes’, but I don’t buy that.”

Olivia put up her free hand and shook her head. “Wait. Don’t jump around with the story. Go back to the beginning and talk to me in an A to Z order.”

“You’re always so good at manhandling me, Liv.”

Olivia flicked the hat at him. “Oh, shut up. What happened?”

Gary closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he clucked his tongue a few times and sputtered his lips. “Uh. First he said that Cassavetes said I shouldn’t even come unless I’ve got a keeper. He said I could bring my own or they’ll assign me one if I can’t find anyone, and I’ve got less than three hours to rustle someone up, and then get in touch with them again so they can tell the travel agent what to do.”

“A
keeper
,” Lo said with a note of apparent incredulity.

Dean was feeling pretty incredulous, too. He didn’t understand why a man who had to be twenty-five, if he were a day, needed to be babysat.

“A chaperone.” Gary opened his eyes. His pupils shrank down to pinpoints in the kitchen’s bright light, and Dean spent longer than was strictly necessary staring into the man’s eyes, trying to figure out the color. The cool hue was one he could probably find in a box of sixty-four crayons, but rarely on real people.

By the time Gary turned around to look at Olivia, Dean still hadn’t decided if blue was quite right.

“He said that Cassavetes was on some overactive punishing spree, and I guess I’m getting the hammer brought down hard on me because the guy who triggered this mood of his was my last roommate. I’ve gotta be watched morning and night until my place on the team is secure, and Wallace couldn’t speculate on when that would be. Gotta get through a tryout first, and then wait and see what comes next.”

“I know people like that,” Lo said. “They could keep you dangling all summer, and then at the end decide, nah, not a good fit, and oh well.”

“That’s what I said. Not sure what else I can do, though. I could wait until next spring to try to get on someone else’s bench, but that still leaves me in the lurch for this summer.”

“I hate to tell you this,” Olivia said, “but if you were thinking of asking Clint, he’s not going to be able to go. He’s leaving in two days for Germany and won’t be back for a couple of weeks.”

“Shit. And I imagine nobody else has enough vacation time saved up.”

“I don’t, man. Sorry,” Ken said.

“I don’t either,” Olivia said. “I burn through mine trying to piece together time to spend with Sidney.”

“I do,” someone said.

Again, Dean needed more than a few moments to realize that someone had been him, and he probably only made the connection because everyone in the room was looking at him.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I mean…I never take time off. I took a day off to get a crown put on a molar a couple of years ago, and of course I took time off for the wedding and honeymoon, but I’ve got weeks of vacation time.”

“Braggart,” Lo muttered. “I never have any. Mine don’t accumulate like yours do, and I think I spent all of last years’ helping my parents move.”

“We’ll go somewhere if you want, whenever you have some.”

“Glad to hear you have weeks and weeks of PTO, Romeo,” Gary said, “but that’s not helping
me
. I’m having something of a crisis here.”

“Poor you,” Dean said.

“Yeah, poor fuckin’ me. I thought for a moment you were going to volunteer to be my keeper for a couple of weeks.”

Lo lifted the collar of her shirt up to her nose and snickered behind it.

“Why’s that funny?” Dean asked.

“Baby, can you imagine? You babysitting this guy? He’d probably make your head spin in thirty minutes or less.”

“I think my bullshit tolerance is a little better than that.”

Gary slapped a hand over his heart and dropped his jaw. “Ex
cuse
me?”

“I call it like I see it.”

“One man’s truth is another man’s bullshit, I guess.” Gary dropped his hand and leaned his elbows onto the table, grinning at him the same way he’d been grinning at Lo before.

Apparently the smarm wasn’t personal.

“So, how ’bout it?” Gary asked.

“How about what?”

“You’ve got time off. You can come see beautiful South Florida, accompanied by the best tour guide there is.”

“The same Florida that has more alligators than baseball fans, you mean?”

“Well, I was gonna do the ‘pretty girls’ sales pitch, but I figured you wouldn’t believe me, and besides, you already have one.”

Lo slumped a little in her seat and averted her gaze.

Dean couldn’t even be mad. He wished he had Gary’s ease of flattering Lo. Dean always felt so damn stupid even offering her the smallest compliment. The words never sounded right coming out of his mouth. She was always sweet about them, though.

“Two weeks, then you can go back to being a walking grease wick and fiddling on the undersides of cars.”

“You don’t make the offer sound very tempting.”

“The idea of antagonizing me for two weeks on end doesn’t float your boat?”

Oh, it does.
Dean cracked his knuckles. He wanted more than anything to frustrate the hell out of the man.

And his eyes were blue. Dark denim blue. They reminded him of the paint job on a bike he’d had briefly. Dean had loved that bike, but it hadn’t been a keeper. He’d ended up selling it to a collector and buying the bike he later sold to purchase Lo’s engagement ring.

Dean looked down at his calloused hands and cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t want to leave Lorena alone for that long.”

“Lorena doesn’t particularly wish to be at home alone for that long,” she said in the petulant tone she tended to reserve for whenever she was working her father over on the phone. Obviously her father wasn’t there, so Dean figured she either had to be joking, or she was
genuinely
perturbed by the proposal.

He looked up for confirmation.

Her forehead was furrowed, eyes narrowed, and lips poked out.

Shit
. He reached over and took her hand. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Wait, wait,” Olivia said. “Hold on. Maybe we can figure something out. How much time off do you have, Lo?”

“A few days. Maybe four, not counting sick time.”

“Sick time doesn’t count unless you’ve got a doctor’s note. This is just me thinking on my feet, but, what if you went down to Florida with Dean? When do you have to go, Gary?”

“I think I would fly down tomorrow or maybe even late tonight depending on the flight timetables. I’m supposed to be at the field on Tuesday morning.”

“Could you get time off that quickly, Lo?”

Lo narrowed her eyes and drummed the fingers of her free hand atop the table. “Maybe. The lady in HR owes me favors. I swiped some old Dominican rum out of my father’s stash for her, and that shit is worth a fortune on the free market.”

“Is she working today?”

“Maybe. I could call her.” She turned to Dean and raised a speculative eyebrow. “Are we really doing this? Are we going to Florida so you can babysit this brat?”

“Did you seriously just go there?” Gary asked.

Lo waved a dismissive hand at him without pulling her gaze away from Dean. “Well?”

“Up to you.”

“No, it’s up to
you
. Me going down for four days is one thing. You’d be gone longer. I could maybe fly down for cheap on the days I’m not working if you want, but you have to want to go.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“And like I said, I don’t
want
you to leave me, but I’ll be okay.”

“You can come stay with us while he’s gone, if you’d like,” Olivia said. “I know how you are about empty houses.”

“Hate them.” Lo shuddered and squeezed Dean’s hand. “So? You gonna help the brat?”

“I am
not
a brat,” Gary groused. “If anything, I’m a reluctant switch. Why’s everybody gotta be a top, anyway? The population should be more balanced than that.”

Olivia hit him with the hat again. “Behave yourself.”

“I was just telling the truth.”

Dean had no idea what that so-called truth was supposed to be, but whatever the truth was had Lo’s eyes wide as saucers. Obviously she understood him, and Dean hoped she’d fill him in on whatever the gist was later.

“Maybe so,” Olivia said, “but remember what I keep telling you. Your truth isn’t meant for everyone to hear.”

“God, you sound like my therapist from back when I was a kid.”

Olivia plopped her fists onto her hips. “Then she must have been a smart lady.” She looked to Dean. “Can you put up with his mess?”