Four
“How do you think he’s feeling?” Sawyer was sitting next to me as I stared out towards the field. My heart had been pounding in my chest ever since the pre-game ceremony started. I don’t think I could recall anything about the festivities because I’d been thinking too much about Adam. I hadn’t seen him yet. I knew he was warming up in the bullpen, but from my seat, I couldn’t see him.
I hadn’t slept anymore after he left. Our activities in the shower had woken me and after that, I knew sleep was not an option. Instead, I’d made myself some breakfast and gotten ready. Maybe it was cliché, but I’d chosen to wear a Red Sox jersey with DELAIN written on the back. I didn’t like the attention I got for being his girlfriend, but I wasn’t going to shy away from showing my support today. Today I’d play the role of proud girlfriend and I’d do it without any concern over who was watching me or what they might say about me.
Sawyer and Lindsey had met me at the ballpark and now we sat with the sold-out crowd waiting for the game to start.
“He’s nervous,” I said, turning to face my brother. He was looking at me with his eyebrow raised, the way he always did when he was curious about something.
“You look pretty nervous yourself. You’ve been fidgeting ever since we sat down.”
“I know,” I sighed. “This is such a big day for him. I just want it to go well.”
“Relax, Care,” he said, giving me his best big brother smile and giving me a quick squeeze meant to bring me comfort. I appreciated the effort, but nothing would help me until Adam took the mound and I probably wouldn’t be able to breathe until his outing was over.
“Don’t let him fool you, Caroline,” Lindsey chimed in, leaning across Sawyer so she was looking at me. “He’s just as nervous as you.” She smiled at me and I looked at my brother. I couldn’t help but smile at Lindsey’s comment. I knew my brother loved Adam too. They’d been best friends nearly their entire lives and even though there’d been some time they weren’t as close as they once were, things were better now and seeing Sawyer nervous for his best friend helped me to see that everything was back to the way it used to be.
Sawyer didn’t deny it and when I looked into my brother’s eyes, I knew Lindsey had been telling the truth. He didn’t say anything though because the PA announcer’s voice echoed loudly through the ballpark, asking us to stand for the National Anthem.
We stood and when I placed my hand over my heart, I could feel it throbbing against my palm. I took a deep breath and stared ahead. When the crowd started cheering, I could barely recall the anthem. My mind had zoned out. I was staring down at my hands, picking at my fingernails. I knew I shouldn’t have splurged on a manicure when I knew I’d be nothing but a bundle of nerves. All I could think about was Adam and how he was doing. My hot pink polish wouldn’t last through the first inning at this rate.
I looked up to see Adam’s face plastered on the jumbotron over centerfield. Underneath his picture sat an ERA of 0.0. I knew it would be the last time he’d see that number this year. I just prayed it stayed low.
The team started to take the field and the crowd at Fenway went crazy. I glanced around at the players, but then my eyes were drawn to the bullpen where Adam and the catcher were making the long walk to the infield. I didn’t think my heart could beat any faster, but at the sight of him in his uniform, looking so serious as he crossed the perfectly manicured grass of Fenway Park, I thought my heart might actually fly out of my chest.
His eyes were focused ahead, his mouth stretched into a hard line. I prayed he’d look up and see me. I wanted to smile at him and let him know I was here and that everything would be okay. He didn’t look up though. He just stared ahead, looking almost angry, even though I knew he wasn’t. He was concentrating. He couldn’t be thinking of me right now. All he was thinking about was throwing the baseball across the plate.
Finally, he got to the mound and began throwing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as he warmed up. I few moments later, the umpire situated himself behind the catcher and the first batter for the Blue Jays stepped into the batter’s box.
The crowd was cheering at the promise of a new season and the hopes that their ace was back. I didn’t hear anyone though. My focus was strictly on Adam and I held my breath as he began his wind up. The ball went hurling towards home plate and when the umpire’s fist clenched signaling a strike, I could breathe again.
~~~
Adam had told me not to wait for him after the game. He had to shower and deal with the press. He didn’t know how long he would be and so I went back to his place where I sat now, watching the New England Sports Network and the recap of the game. The sportscasters were reviewing Adam’s performance, showing clips of his best pitches. Everyone was in agreement that the Adam DeLain of the past appeared to be back. I knew I was smiling. It was hard not to as I listened to them talk about Adam. With nine strikeouts and only two earned runs in seven innings of play, I knew the game had been everything Adam had hoped for.
They cut to an interview in the locker room a few minutes later. Adam appeared on the screen, a dozen microphones jammed in his face. His hair was still damp from a shower and he answered the questions being fired off at him. He was straight and to the point. Humble and matter of fact. I’d thought Spring Training had prepared me for this life, but after watching the scrutiny of the Boston media, I knew it hadn’t. Sports in Boston was a religion and right now, Adam was their god.
I heard the door opening and when I turned my head, I saw Adam walking inside, looking so different than I’d seen him at the game. Gone was the uniform and he looked at me across the hall in a pair of jeans and a gray cargo jacket, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. It all seemed so casual, like he was a kid returning home from his high school game, instead of having just pitched at Fenway Park. There was no fanfare. Just him and as our eyes met, he smiled at me.
I couldn’t help it as I found myself practically running towards him. He dropped his bag and I wrapped my arms around him.
“You were amazing today,” I said as his hands slid around my waist.
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. He pulled me tighter instead, holding me close for a few quiet moments until he finally pulled back, looking me in the eyes and pushing a piece of hair behind my ear.
“I wouldn’t say amazing,” he said with a crooked grin.
“Shut up!” I exclaimed, playfully swatting him on the chest. “You know you threw a good game. It couldn’t have gone better so stop being modest. I’m so proud of you. I’m not the only one either. I was watching NESN and Tom Curran couldn’t say enough about you. You were way too modest during your post-game interview, by the way.”
“It was only one game. Let’s see how it goes during my next start.”
I stepped back and folded my arms as I eyed him.
“Please tell me this isn’t how you’re going to be all season.”
“Like what?”
“Like this. Mopey and pessimistic.”
“I’m not being mopey and pessimistic,” he said with a smirk.
“You are. You’re like Eeyore. All you need is a little black cloud over your head.” He started laughing and pulled me to him again.
“I’m sorry, Care,” he said and I could tell he was smiling by the tone of his voice. “You’re right. It was a good game.”
I pulled back, looking up into his eyes that looked especially blue for some reason, and rested my palm on his cheek. It was rough from the stubble he hadn’t shaved off this morning. He smiled at my touch and I stretched onto my tiptoes, kissing him softly on the lips.
“Just accept that you were awesome today and get on with it.”
He laughed and put his arm around me as we finally made our way down the hall and into the kitchen where he took off his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. He went straight to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He took a long drink and then leaned against the counter.
“I didn’t mean to sound pessimistic and I do appreciate your faith in me. I just don’t want to take tonight’s performance as an indicator of how the season is going to go. Tonight was great, but I don’t want to kid myself that it’s going to be like that every game.”
He let out a nervous chuckle and I felt the corners of my mouth dip into a momentary frown.
“I’m sorry, Adam. Maybe my enthusiasm was a bit much.”
“No,” he said, stepping away from the counter and coming towards me. “Please don’t apologize for believing in me.” He slid his arms around my waist and gazed down at me. “Believe me, I need your support. I need someone telling me I’m amazing because in this game, it’s very easy to think otherwise.” He brushed his lips lightly over mine and then pulled back, a sweet smile on his face. “I love you so damn much, Caroline Hale. Are you aware of that?”
“Yeah,” I grinned, giving him a quick peck. “I’m aware.”
He kissed me again, deeper this time. Long and slow. The kind I felt in every inch of my body and the kind that had robbed me of my breath when he pulled away.
“You’re adorable when you’re flushed, you know that?”
“Stop it,” I said, pushing away from him and grinning. “I’m not flushed.” It was a bold-faced lie and we both knew it. He started laughing again and then looked in the fridge.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“A little,” I answered. I hadn’t eaten anything since the Fenway Frank at the game.
“Can I make you dinner?” he asked, turning away from the refrigerator and eyeing me with a smile and a raised eyebrow.
“You’re not making me dinner, Adam. You just pitched seven innings in a major league baseball game. If anyone’s making dinner, it’s me.”
“No, you’re not,” he said firmly as he stood up. “I’m making you dinner and that’s final.”
“Adam, no. You’ve got to be exhausted.”
“Let me do this, Caroline. I want to. I want some normalcy after today and this will do that. I’m just a regular guy coming home from work to make dinner. We’ll eat and we’ll talk, but not about baseball, okay?”
We both knew he was anything but a regular guy, but I could see the need in his eyes. He didn’t want to be Adam DeLain #16 tonight. He just wanted to be my boyfriend and so I smiled over to him and nodded.
“Okay,” I said softly and he grinned before he closed the fridge and reached into a cupboard for a pan. He wanted normal and I’d do my best to give him that, which meant I’d just plop myself on the couch and watch TV while Adam worked in the kitchen.
I watched a mindless remodeling show while the aroma of whatever it was Adam was making began to fill the house. Forty-five minutes later, he called to me that dinner was ready. When I walked into the kitchen, I saw two plates on the table. They were filled with steak, a baked potato and salad along with a glass of my favorite wine.
“This doesn’t look like something you could just throw together,” I said when I got to the table.
“That’s because I didn’t just throw it together. A meal like this takes planning.”
“So, you were intending to make me dinner after the game all along?”
“Yeah,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Like I said, I want our lives to be as normal as possible.”
“Then this is a good start,” I said, sitting down. He sat down across from me, taking a drink of his water before cutting into the steak and taking a bite. I did the same and he looked over to me.
“How is it?” he asked.
“Perfect. Thank you,” I said, taking a sip of my wine. “I have to say I feel a little weird drinking when you’re not.”
“Don’t. I want you to relax.”
“So you can have your way with me later?” I teased.
“Wine isn’t required for that,” he said and I felt my cheeks burn at his suggestion.
“That would be a correct statement, Mr. DeLain,” I smiled and it was his turn to grin.
“I was actually referring to you relaxing for tomorrow when you go for your interview. How’re you feeling about it?”
“It’s just an interview,” I told him dismissively.
“Now who’s being modest?”
“I’d hardly compare my interview to your performance today.”
“First of all, I said no baseball talk during dinner, and secondly, this is important for you so don’t try to downplay it.”
“I’m not meaning to downplay it. It’s just not the same. It’s okay to admit that,” I said with a soft laugh, but Adam didn’t join in.
“Yes, our lives are different, but I don’t like when you make it sound like my job is more important than yours. I throw a baseball for a living, you actually use your brain. You’re so damn smart, Caroline. You’re not like other girls.”
My mind started drifting to the Adam of the past. The Adam I remembered when he left Silver Falls. The one I’d seen in pictures with a different woman hanging off his arm every night. Women I never thought I could compete with. I knew I was different than them and at one point my self-doubt nearly ruined us.
“You told me this morning you were proud of me,” he continued. “Now it’s my turn to be proud of you.”
I felt his foot brush mine under the table and I rested my chin on my hand, staring across the table at him.
“I love you, Adam,” I said to him and he reached across the table, taking my hand with his. He lifted it to his mouth, kissing it softly, before resting it back on the table as we finished our dinner.