Chapter Eleven
During all the years Maisy had come to watch Kevin, she’d paid for her seat herself and she had never been given the VIP treatment. No suites. No special hats or towels. No free drinks. She’d always wondered what went on in the luxury skyboxes. Now, she watched the other guests of Charlie Zumaeta hover around the buffet holding their martinis and wineglasses and concluded…no big deal. Her old seat was closer and more fun.
Sam’s secretary, Joanie, and his data analyst, Tristan, had been extremely nice to her on the ride to the stadium. They’d asked her about teaching and the farm. They’d escorted her to a private entrance so she wouldn’t have to wait in any lines. And they were remarkably interested in Faygo colliding with Sam’s foot.
Sam met them when they arrived at the suite. Before leaving, Joanie gave his foot a long look and said, “Maybe get out of the way next time, boss.”
Maisy ignored his scowl. She was distracted by the roar of the crowd and the flashing pictures on the jumbotron. A layer of sweat was building on the back of her neck despite the air conditioning in the suite. In contrast, her mouth was dry.
Sam’s hand on her arm and a whisper in her ear brought her back. “This will be over in a few ugly innings. Try not to worry.”
“As GM, is it ethical to hope your own pitcher tanks?” Maisy mumbled to Sam.
He handed her a soda. “I like to think of this as a tactical maneuver. Sometimes you have to lose the battle to win the war.”
She pointed to his foot. “Just be careful, soldier. You’ve only got one good foot in this fight.”
A half dozen members of Zoom’s family were eyeing her with curiosity. The women wore slinky, low-cut dresses that made Maisy feel dowdy in her white cropped pants and black peasant blouse. When she had thrown the extra set of clothes in a duffel bag, she had been thinking about dinner with Heather’s mom. She hadn’t packed for baseball. She especially hadn’t packed for baseball royalty.
A woman with unusually pert breasts flicked butterfly eyelashes at Sam. Sam introduced her as Veronica Zumaeta, Zoom’s wife.
“It’s been ages since we’ve seen you, Sam.”
Tristan popped up over Sam’s shoulder. “Hi, Mrs. Zumaeta.”
“Hello, Thurston.”
“Tristan,” he corrected her.
“You sure you don’t want a real drink tonight?” she asked, leaning toward Sam.
Tristan looked hopefully at the bar. “Do they serve Chianti?”
Sam shook his head. “Coke is fine for those of us working tonight. You wouldn’t want to mix the numbers up, Tristan.”
Veronica Zumaeta laughed and wagged a finger at the bartender. “One of these days I’m going to have them sneak some rum in there, Sam. You deserve a little fun.”
Noise from the back of the suite caught everyone’s attention. A large man filled the doorway. He ignored guests who moved to shake his hand and crossed the room in two strides. “Maisy Gray, it is so nice to meet you. We are very honored to have you as our guest.”
Kevin had introduced them once, but there was no reason for Charlie Zumaeta to remember it. “How do you do, Mr. Zumaeta.”
“Zoom!” He patted her on the shoulder. “Call me Zoom, Maisy.”
He took her by the crook of the arm and dragged her to the large wall of glass that overlooked home base. A doorway to the suite’s outside balcony seats stood open. She planted her feet, refusing to go any farther. The thought of facing the crowd made the tips of her fingers numb. She gripped the soda harder, hoping she wouldn’t drop it on the wooden floor.
Bursts of applause and the stir of excitement reached the suite. It had only been a few weeks since she had made that first trip back to Turbos Stadium with her class. But it felt like years.
Zoom explained the stadium layout and the numbers on the jumbotron as if she had never seen a game before. He described warm-up and announcements and she pretended fascination as he told her all that she had known since she was a little girl. Kevin’s name was broadcast through the stadium as today’s starting pitcher, and for the first time, she considered what Kevin thought of all this. Was he as uncomfortable with the situation as she was? And what about Alexa Ventura, the other woman? Maisy took a tiny bit of evil pleasure in thinking about how uncomfortable the supermodel must be with Maisy’s sudden fame.
The national anthem was announced, and Maisy had a small reprieve. Zoom gave up coaxing her to the outdoor seats and made his way outside with his family and friends to sing the anthem with the rest of the fans.
The owner’s box was quiet for one short moment. She took a deep breath, steeling herself to face the crowd.
A tall figure fell into place beside her.
She should be angry at Sam for convincing her it would be all right to come to the stadium. None of this would have happened if he had never shown up in the paddock yesterday. But instead of feeling like her enemy, Sam felt like her ally. He was the only person in this box she really knew. The only one she trusted. He’d been nothing but honest with her from the moment he had come out to the farm. They both wanted the same thing. For the craziness to end.
She hadn’t exactly been honest with him about her feelings. She’d told him she didn’t care about baseball or the Turbos or any of this.
Lies.
The emerald outfield was perfectly groomed. The bases gleamed in the bright lights like stars. In the middle of it all, the pitcher’s mound beckoned like a throne waiting for its king. The energy that always came at the end of “The Star-Spangled Banner” could have lit up the city if it were harnessed.
She cared. Very much.
She just might burst from it all.
Sam grasped her glass. Maisy blinked.
He set the soda on the high-top table beside her.
“Shall we?” he said, waving toward the balcony where Zoom waited. She was going to have to do this, after all. Despite all the times she’d sworn she wouldn’t come back. Sam reached for her hand. The feeling slowly started to return to her fingers. They tingled with the need to grab his and hold on for dear life.
The last time she had been in this stadium she had felt unbalanced. The view of the game on the field and the sound of the crowd had reached her like a fuzzy TV signal. This was full HD.
Kevin knew she was here.
The fans would recognize her.
They all knew her story about being dumped.
She couldn’t hide beneath the brim of a John Deere cap or from the cheap seats in the upper deck.
Sam gently ushered her out the door and down the steps of the box. Zoom spotted her and made a grand gesture, as if the queen had just entered the stadium. He stepped forward and crushed her in a hug as if they were seeing each other for the first time. Then he pushed her to the front of the balcony.
From the suites nearby, a smattering of applause erupted. Then a larger cheer burst from the infield box seats. The outfield seats and the bleachers were last. Maisy felt like a jelly-filled donut winning the race on the jumbotron.
She shouldn’t feel so bitter. This was all in good fun. And not everyone knew what was going on. Many people here didn’t read the local papers or listen to sports radio or follow Turbos baseball. In fact, there were probably a lot of football and basketball fans in the stadium who had no clue who she was. Right?
Suddenly she was on the jumbotron. It was weird to see herself, bigger than life, smiling and waving to the fans. So, this was what it must feel like to be a baseball player. To be Kevin. Did he ever get used to it?
The camera shifted to the field. She forced herself to look down. Their eyes met, and for the space of a moment, a time warp bent the air, making it feel like it had been just yesterday when they were together. Her heart had been on the mound with him back then. Every pitch he’d thrown had made her shoulder ache. Every strike had made her heart race.
Kevin removed his cap and nodded to her. He smoothed his hair and set his cap back on. Then, he turned and walked in a circle, gazing up at the sky through narrowed eyes. The first Yankee batter stepped out of the on-deck circle.
Two surprising things occurred to Maisy when she was able to breathe once again.
One, after the initial wave of memories receded, they settled back into the ocean of nostalgia and stayed there. There was nothing left.
And with that came a second surprise. She was going to be all right, after all. It helped that the man standing behind her made her feel like she wasn’t alone. Tonight was their inside joke. They knew how this was going to end.
Zoom put his arm around her and posed for a picture. She even smiled for real.
Then, Maisy did something she’d never thought she would do again. She’d thought about it as she was sitting in the apartment waiting for her ride. There was one gesture that the fans who had been following her story would understand. It was important that they have no doubts, no excuses when the game was over.
Maisy spun in a circle, popped a wad of Dubble-Bubble gum in her mouth, and saluted the pitcher’s mound. It would be the last time.
She sank into her seat.
The fans exploded.
“Nice touch,” said a deep voice behind her.