Page 36
Story: A Whole New Ball Game
EPILOGUE
RACHEL
Two months later
“You think they’re going to do it?” Taylor asked me as we took our usual seats behind the Bats’ dugout.
“I don’t know. I hope so,” I said, shivering in my Bats hoodie with Silas’s number on the back. The weather was abnormally chilly, the fall crisp in the air we’d just started to enjoy now just plain cold. I wore heavy gloves and a long T-shirt under my hoodie, but I still trembled in my seat.
If they won today, they would have the first pennant in Brooklyn Bats’ history. No one had expected them to get this far, and even if they lost today, they’d had a fantastic season with a lot of new fans filling the stands.
But I really wanted them to win. They deserved it. And so did my boyfriend.
My live-in boyfriend, as of this month.
Since he’d returned from Boston, he’d been staying over at our house almost every night, other than when he had to go back to his apartment for his bills or the small amount of clothes he still had there. Parking his truck in our neighborhood wasn’t as easy, but he’d insisted it was worth the hassle to come upstairs to me at night, no matter how far he had to walk from whatever spot he’d find.
Coaching and living in Brooklyn had heightened Silas’s popularity, but instead of being treated as a legendary celebrity, he was just one of us. That gave us some privacy on a local level, and we were able to have dinner in a restaurant without anyone bothering us, most of the time.
“This is a nice stadium,” Ben said from his seat next to Taylor. “If a little clean and too modern.”
“Why? A ballpark has to be dirty to be authentic?” Maryanne asked. They were both in full Brooklyn Bats gear. Maryanne wore a scarf and Silas’s dad wore a baseball cap.
“Yes, lived-in. Sticky floors.” He swiveled his sneaker. “In time, I suppose.”
Silas’s parents were as excited as we were, but not as tense, as they’d been to plenty of play-off and championship games throughout Silas’s career.
To me, even though I hadn’t been there with him at that time, this was different. He’d been a baseball star for his entire life, and now he was on the verge of success from the other side. Killing it at a job that he’d been so afraid he wouldn’t be able to do.
One of my favorite things about him was how he could be endlessly humble while being so damn exceptional.
“Rachel!”
I swiveled my head to a fan in a Jones jersey under her puffy jacket. I guessed she was about my age, her brown hair blowing in the fierce breeze, clutching my latest paperback in her hand. The one that had led me to Silas, or I liked to think of it that way.
I’d even changed the dedication in the book to him, although no one knew but us what I meant by signing it, “All my love, Slugger.”
“I’m sorry to bother you, but could you sign this? My seats aren’t really here, but I took a chance.”
“Of course,” I said, grabbing the book from her hands. “I take it you’re a Jones fan too?”
“Well, honestly, I bought the jersey after I heard he was your boyfriend. I am now, but I found him through you.”
I popped my head up. “That is the coolest thing I’ve ever heard, and I can’t wait to tell him later that I got him a new fan,” I whispered.
She laughed, muttering a thank-you and scurrying off when she noticed security checking tickets.
It was a new experience to be approached to sign a book outside of a bookstore or signing. I was still riding the viral wave, more videos popping up every day, along with the occasional candid shot of Silas and me. We were careful to take the heavy PDA behind closed doors now, so whatever shots someone was able to get of us were cute, not scandalous.
I was almost surprised my mother hadn’t contacted me after seeing all our newfound semi-fame, but Silas had scared her pretty straight when she’d barged in and tried to take Taylor. A restraining order had been served to Jared’s New Jersey apartment, and we hadn’t heard a peep from her since.
Taylor had stopped asking if she’d reached out, and the relief I’d witnessed once it started to sink in that our mother really wasn’t going to pop back into our lives when we’d least expected it anymore was palpable and mutual.
As Silas had said, sharing blood didn’t always mean sharing a bond, and relatives were better off out of your life if they were toxic.
Even if they were supposed to be a parent.
Sometimes, a local restaurant would get a jump in business if Silas and I were photographed there, so everyone, everywhere, was always happy to see us.
It was the good side of his popularity, unlike the occasional comment of what a guy like him was doing with a girl like me. But jealousy and cruelty didn’t bother me because I was too busy being in love and so happy my cheeks ached.
Gayle had offered me my job back a couple of days after Silas got home from Boston. It hadn’t been a very boisterous offer, and I didn’t want to ruin any of the good memories I’d cultivated while working for Gayle by agreeing to come back when I hadn’t really been wanted. Working at a job that was given to me under duress wouldn’t be conducive to my best creative work.
I should have come clean from the beginning and accepted the consequences rather than continue to violate the rules by sneaking around.
When a large payment hit my bank account, large enough to cover my salary for three years, I’d called the agency’s HR, sure there had been a mistake. I had been dismissed for cause and didn’t qualify for severance, and I totally didn’t buy it when the HR rep said that it was just procedure.
That was when Silas told me about the role the Bats had played in our social media mess.
I appreciated the gesture, even if I knew it had been strongly suggested by my alpha boyfriend. Everything had ended well, but the trauma of being double doxxed with a kid to take care of was fresh, even now.
Each day, both Silas and I made an effort to move past the anger and focus on the good the Bats had given us, like the path to stumble back into each other’s lives and the chance to stay there for good.
I’d found a freelance writing job instead that brought a small but steady income, but I spent most of my time at the computer writing my own stories. Now that everyone knew I was R.M. Dioro, I was embarrassed about hiding it.
Romance was something to be celebrated. If someone was too limited to understand that, their opinions weren’t worth any consideration.
It felt so damn good to live the life I wanted without compartmentalizing the pieces I thought I couldn’t show.
Starting with the hot-as-hell baseball manager jogging over to me.
“It’s cold,” he said, shaking his head as he came up to where we were sitting. “That hoodie is too lightweight.”
“But how are people supposed to know I’m your girlfriend?” I turned to show him his name and number on my back.
“Oh, they know. Trust me,” he said, coming in for a slow, sensual kiss that triggered whistles from the stands.
“Your parents are behind us,” I said as I backed away.
“They already know I’m hopelessly in love with you,” he said, coming back in for another quick kiss. “I’m supposed to be focused on the game, not warming you up after.”
“Ick,” Taylor said, making a gagging noise as her face twisted in a grimace. “You guys are cute, but stop testing my gag reflex.”
“Sorry, Tay,” Silas said, adjusting his hat and going in for one more peck. “Wish us luck.”
I spotted Nate on the field, still in uniform despite recovering from shoulder surgery. Silas had said Nate would be here today to support and, hopefully, celebrate with, his team. He’d waved a hello at us as we’d headed to our seats, my sister turning all kinds of red when he’d asked her if she was playing softball again next season.
“He remembered me,” she’d whispered. Nate was your typical ballplayer kind of gorgeous, but my eyes were on someone else in uniform today.
I spent most of the game shivering in my seat. The score went back and forth, each team only taking a narrow lead but not holding it. After an exhausting nine innings, the Bats were one out away from going to their first championship series. The batter popped up what seemed like a million foul balls into the stands as the count stayed at three and two.
One out was all they needed, and it was taking forever. I couldn’t see Silas’s face, but I could picture him leaning on the rail of the dugout, stoic and solid as always. Only I knew the nerves beneath and the insecurities and specters from his career as a player that haunted him in moments like these.
It made me love him more, because he loved me enough to show that side of himself only to me, because he trusted me. Even on that first day.
I wanted this for him so badly, I tasted blood from where I’d sunk my teeth into the inside of my cheek for the past five pitches.
“I can’t look,” Taylor said, burying her head into my shoulder.
“What kind of ballplayer are you,” I said, giving her a playful nudge. “You know it gets tense, especially during a big game.”
“I know. I just really want this for him,” Taylor said, her face twisting into a grimace I could feel. I took both her hands and held on tight.
“I do too,” I whispered. “But whatever happens, we’ll celebrate him big tonight.”
She nodded with a strained but wide smile.
Our heads popped up when we heard another crack, this ball sailing deep into the outfield. I gasped, afraid it was going over the wall, but it started to land just short of it. It was so quiet, I swore I heard the thump of the ball against the glove before the crowd went wild.
Everyone was on their feet while Taylor and I folded in relief.
My mind went to the mysterious man sitting next to me on a park bench, confessing his worries about the new job he didn’t think he’d be able to do.
He always forgot how amazing he was, and I was thrilled to spend the rest of my life reminding him every single day.
We sat for a minute, Taylor and I silent as everyone cleared the dugout, piling on top of one another.
“Think they’ll stop me if I rush the field?” I asked my sister.
“I’ll be mad if you don’t. Go!” She pushed my arm so hard she almost shoved me off the seat. Silas’s parents, both with identical wide smiles, nodded toward the field when they met my gaze.
I crept to where the bunting lined the rail, the climb over a little steeper than I anticipated.
“Need a hand?” one of the security guards asked, biting back a smile. Luckily, I’d sat in that seat for the last month of home games, and Silas had always made sure to make an open display of greeting me hello.
“Yes, please,” I said, holding out my hand as the sweet man helped me over. I swept my gaze over the field and tried to spot my boyfriend in the midst of happy players bouncing off one another.
“I was about to come get you,” a gruff voice said behind me before I was lifted off the ground.
“I’m so proud of you,” I said, cinching my legs around his waist as I clung to his neck.
“I didn’t do anything, but thank you.” Silas laughed in my ear as he spun me around.
“No, you did everything. I love you so much.” I grabbed his face to kiss him, but he pulled back.
“Wait,” he said as he set me down.
“Since when do you want to wait to kiss me?”
He held my gaze, a small smile playing on his lips as he took off his hat and tossed it on the grass.
“Since I wanted to do something first.”
He dropped to one knee and dug into his jacket pocket.
“I almost did this when I came back from Boston, but I wanted this day to stand on its own.” He opened a purple velvet box, but I couldn’t see the ring through the tears welling in my eyes.
But I could tell it was big. The stadium lights bouncing off the stone almost blinded me.
“I love you. From that first day and more every day since. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He slipped the ring on my finger. “Which you already know, or you should know.” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my finger right below the stone. “Here is probably not the best place either. I was going to do it later, but why not ride the high?”
“Holy shit, look,” I heard one of the guys say behind us. As usual, the entire world faded around Silas, but I turned around to find my sister. She stared back at me with a watery smile spreading across her lips, not looking surprised at all.
“Please, Rachel. I need you to marry me.”
“Yes,” I said, forcing out the word with the little air I had left in my lungs.
I’d always thought happily-ever-afters weren’t for me. I’d make them for my sister or the fictional characters I’d create, and I’d been okay with that.
Once I’d met the man in my arms, the one sagging against me in relief like there had been even a remote possibility I would say no, nothing had ever been the same.
It was everything I hadn’t let myself dream of and so much more.