Page 20

20

CADE

I settle back with Auggie in my lap, his relaxed little body nestled comfortably against me. His soft tousled hair smells like baby shampoo. He’s as limp as the floppy plush elephant he’s holding, completely at ease and fully trusting. Melts my friggin’ heart.

The fireworks start and he looks up at me with wide innocent eyes full of curiosity and excitement. Suddenly he’s sitting upright pointing to the brilliant display of sparkling colorful jewels cascading like a waterfall in the night sky.

“Bang,” he says as he bobs up and down with excitement.

“Fireworks,” I say to him and nonchalantly drape my arm across the back of Georgia’s seat. She stiffens and I smile to myself. Oh, she’s definitely into me.

Another loud boom, then sparkles showering down in a burst of red, white and blue as the air crackles and pops. The audience gasps and cheers at the breathtaking display. It’s usually about a fifteen-minute show with each bang producing something more spectacular than the last. I glance over at Georgia who is taking in everything with the wonder of a child. Her lips are parted and tilted up, her eyes unblinking, clapping after each boom. I let my fingertips brush against her bare arm and see her shiver then glance at me. Her eyes are glittering jewels catching the reflection of the fireworks. The intensity of her gaze makes me want to lean in and kiss her but I don’t. All too soon the show reaches a crescendo and then finishes with the grand finale. I don’t want this night to end. My son’s first MLB game and we won, and I’m sitting next to the most beautiful woman on the planet. Life is good.

“The Cutters sure know how to do it, that’s for sure,” Ava says. “That was awesome.”

“What did ya think, Auggie?” I ask. He clutches his stuffed toy, still watching the night sky like he’s expecting more.

“That’s it for the night, Buddy. Fireworks are all done.”

“Bye-bye,” he says waving at the night sky. My kid is brilliant.

“Bye-bye, fireworks,” I say.

“You want the dollar tour of the clubhouse or are you ready to call it a night?”

Georgia looks at Ava who shakes her head. “No thanks. I’m tuckered out. I’ve been up since six. But I had a lot more fun than I thought I would.”

“Gee, that’s some high praise.”

“Best I got, take it or leave it,” Ava says laughing.

I text the driver then stand and turn Augs around to face me, cradling his bottom in the crook of my arm. “Come on then. I’ll walk you to the garage.”

I’m still riding high from the win, but I also feel odd. Seeing Georgia and August pile into the limo and drive away is anticlimactic. It seems like they should be leaving with me. I shake that off and head to the clubhouse to celebrate. Since we’ll be playing tomorrow and Sunday, it’s a rinse-and-repeat sitch. Nobody will be going wild with the celebrations tonight. We need our beauty rest. We’re so close to making the playoffs that I can taste it.

I enter the clubhouse to a jubilant team of athletes still celebrating. Coach is facing the media’s post-game interview and I hear him mention me and my catch in the outfield as a “game changer.” It feels good to be acknowledged for contributing to the win. The excitement in here is palpable. There is an awesome spread of food laid out and I grab a plate and load it up with hummus and veggies then add a couple of spring rolls and some pot stickers. I drizzle hot chili oil on my dumplings and squirt ranch on my rolls and head over to a table.

I sit down with Carlos and some other teammates I’m getting to know. Everyone has been welcoming and I feel at home here. The sense of camaraderie with the Cutters is tangible. More than what I experienced with the other team except for a few players. It’s not that I didn’t make a couple of life-long friends, but there were a few big egos on the team who often put themselves above everyone else. They were a high-dollar franchise that could afford to pay for the superstars. Here, no one is trying to take all the glory. It’s great to be winning and great to be on a team with such a nice group of guys. I like it here.

Carlos says, “I heard you had a special guest tonight. I was hoping to meet the little chiquito.”

“You will. They were tired and begged off early.”

“Dean says it’s DNA artistry. A carbon copy of you.”

I can’t wipe the smile off my face. “Pretty much.”

“Damn, this is going to blow up your life big time.”

“I’m ready,” I say.

Carlos shoves his empty plate aside and tips his chair back. “You’re a better man than me. I like being a free agent.”

“You’re going to eat your words when the right person walks into your life. Hard to explain.”

“Ah, so you and Mamacita are together then?”

I shake my head. “Short answer is no. Not that I don’t wish it were different. Not gonna lie, I fucked up big time. When I got called up to San Diego, we’d been seeing each other, but it was supposed to be casual. We both knew the odds… getting called up to the majors was something we’d talked about, but I guess reality is a little different than talking about it. I got the call and had less than a week to pack up my shit, find a place and be there ready to play. I left without telling her. When I tried calling her a week later, she wasn’t having it,” I shrug, “I guess I gave up pretty easily. I mean, I thought a long-distance relationship was pointless and I had to focus on baseball. We were mid-season and in a tight race for the playoffs.”

“Yikes,” Ben, our shortstop says. “Brutal.”

Carlos says, “Damn bro, I’m surprised she’s even talking to you.”

I munch on my celery. “I’m sure she’d rather not, but since we share a kid, she doesn’t have much of a choice. I want to be a part of his life.”

Dean approaches, a blue bandana wrapped around his forehead holding his hair back. The dude is striking to look at and it’s no surprise all the ladies flock to him. He’s got that swagger of confidence with a rugged charm to match. He’s definitely the glue of this team. I notice a lot of us go to him for advice since he’s a more seasoned player with a lot of wisdom and common sense.

“Can you believe that win? We sure pulled that one out of our asses,” he says as he plops down. “We’ve got to get our offense going earlier. I can’t handle the stress.”

“Thank God for Flash. He’s clutch. That dude has brass balls. He had a great at-bat that last inning,” Ben replies.

“Yeah, he made Julio work for it fo sho. They battled. How many did he foul off?”

“At least a dozen before the walk-off.”

“Yo, you talking about me?” Flash says as he passes by with his latest beauty beside him.

“We were talking ‘bout what a stud you are,” Hammer jokes.

His date looks at Flash adoringly and purrs, “Yes he is.” We collectively groan and the ribbing begins. I lean back with a big ole smile, enjoying the banter.

“Coach wants the team in the locker room to discuss,” Flash says.

I jump up and grab my empty plate, throwing it in the trash on my way to the meeting. Coach always likes to discuss strategy for the next game and go over any weak spots from tonight’s performances. After that, I’m clearing out. The adrenaline is wearing off and I’m suddenly dog-tired.

N inety minutes later I’m yawning as I plug my cell into its charger and crawl into bed. I can feel every muscle in my body as I roll onto my side and settle in. Last thing I think about before drifting off is Georgia.