Better Than Perfect (2 page)

They started to walk away.

“Give my best to Mel.” As if he hadn’t already done that.

Alice turned around.

“Mel died. Eight years ago.” A pained expression flashed across her face.

“I’m sorry. For your loss.” Johnny said the words. He wanted more than anything to mean them, but he’d carried that resentment around for so long, it had become as much a part of him as his right arm.

“Thank you.” Alice gave him a sad little smile. It was forced. Polite. The kind of smile she’d give a stranger. “It was good seeing you. Really good.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He could say the same, but he’d be lying. Seeing her again only reminded him of everything he’d sacrificed.

* * * *

The minute she’d seen Johnny on the stage, Alice’s heart had swelled big enough to fill the stadium. There he’d been, larger than life. Damn. The man looked good. Better than on TV. Better than she remembered. He’d gained some muscle. A lot of muscle. Even without the jersey, there’d be no doubt he was an athlete. He moved with the kind of confidence and grace that came with being totally in tune with his body. Like he’d once been totally in tune with hers. She ached at the memory, but shook it off, uncomfortable having such thoughts with her son sitting next to her. Like Johnny had clearly been uncomfortable onstage, addressing the media and the crowds. He never did like to talk about his game. He’d simply let his talent speak for itself.

Just as she’d predicted, women lined up at his booth. They all wanted his autograph. Some of them wanted a little more. She hadn’t been able to handle it back then. And now? What he did was his business. Especially since she’d been the one to walk out on him.

“Mom. Are you okay?” Zach was protective of her. And a little too observant.

“I’m fine, Zach.” She shook her head to clear the fog of memories that rolled over her. With only the briefest look into his eyes, she couldn’t forget the three years they’d spent together, nearly inseparable. Studying. Hanging out. Making love. “I’m surprised to see him, that’s all.”

“But you knew he’d be here.” Zach had that tone, the unspoken
duh
. They’d been coming to Fan Fest every year since Mel’s death. She’d known Johnny would be here. She just wasn’t prepared for the impact of seeing him again. She’d thought she’d put those feelings behind her. Packed them away with her college sweatshirts and student ID card. “You were so excited when you heard it on the radio. Your favorite player finally becoming a Goliath. Why didn’t you tell me you guys were, like, friends?”

“I didn’t want you to think it’s a big deal.” She tried to place her hand on his shoulder, but he squirmed to avoid the contact. That was new. Not unexpected, given his age, but she missed her little boy. The first time they’d come to Fan Fest, he’d held her hand. Until they’d gotten to the miniature version of the ballpark. He’d joined the t-ball game like he was born to play.

“It is a big deal.” Zach looked at her like she was hopelessly out of touch. Something he did a lot these days. “Mom, you actually know Johnny Scottsdale.”

There it was. The star-struck admiration bordering on worship.

“I
knew
him, Zach.” Alice tried to keep her tone neutral. She couldn’t betray her emotions. A wave of regret washed over her. The question of what might have been. “But that was a long time ago.”

“Wouldn’t it be cool if he came to the foundation’s minicamp?” Zach couldn’t know why it would be such a bad idea.

She’d hoped to avoid him. Avoid digging up the past. And the question that had plagued her more and more as Zach grew. “I already have a pitcher lined up. Nathan Cooper. He’s done it for years.”

Alice had worked for the Mel Harrison Jr. Foundation since its inception, a little more than a year after her husband’s death. The initial donations were privately funded, set up to provide grants to community schools and youth organizations. As the foundation had grown, they were able to provide services for greater numbers of children, but the more successful they’d become, the less contact she had with the kids.

Until a few years ago, when the team had approached her about setting up a minicamp for youth players. It evolved from a Saturday demonstration and meet-and-greet to a weeklong afterschool program where the ballplayers worked directly with the kids, helping them learn fundamentals of the game while boosting their confidence with the attention and mentorship of the pro athletes.

“Cooper’s alright.” Zach sounded disappointed, bordering on whiny. “But he’s not Johnny Scottsdale.”

“Zach, we made a commitment to Nathan Cooper.”

“And Harrisons always keep their commitments.” Zach parroted the family motto. She could tell by the tone of his voice he had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

“Yes, Zach, Harrisons keep their commitments.” No matter what. She’d made a commitment to Mel, to the Harrison family. She’d hoped her feelings for Johnny would eventually fade. She’d made her choice. A desperate one at the time, but once she’d committed to Mel, she wouldn’t look back. She still couldn’t. “Cooper’s a good player. A good guy. We can’t just tell him we don’t want him anymore.”

“Well, maybe they could both do the pitching clinic,” Zach suggested. “Since Cooper’s a lefty, maybe it would be better to have a right-handed pitcher too.”

“Johnny’s a busy man. He doesn’t need us bugging him.” And she didn’t need to be reminded of what she’d given up.

“Yeah, but he probably doesn’t know very many people here yet.” Zach sounded hopeful. Like they’d be doing Johnny a favor. “It would be good for him to get involved in the community.”

“Zach. He doesn’t need us.” She’d made sure of it.

“But…” Zach couldn’t let it go.

“I think it’s time for some lunch.” Lately, food seemed to be the best distraction.

“I could eat.” Zach shrugged. “You want to split some garlic fries?”

“You know I do.” The ballpark’s signature fries had become a tradition. But if she ate a full order herself, she’d be sorry later.

“Can I get two hot dogs, then? Or maybe some nachos?”

“You’re that hungry?” Wasn’t it only yesterday that she begged him to eat? Playing airplane with the spoon or bribing him with a toy to take three more bites.

“Yeah. I guess meeting Johnny Scottsdale increased my appetite.” He grinned at her. For a second there, he reminded her of someone she used to know.

“Oh, Zach…” She sighed, her emotions getting the better of her. Seeing Johnny for even a few minutes had her all mixed up.

It had been easier when Johnny was on the other side of the country. When he’d been nothing more than a box score. An image on TV. She’d followed his entire career. From his earliest days in the minor leagues, to his first start in Kansas City, to when he was traded to Tampa Bay. She’d watched him. Cheered for him. Wished him nothing but success.

“Oh please, Mom. Don’t go there.” She was embarrassing him. As she often did whenever she talked about how quickly he was growing up. Becoming a man. Neither of them was quite ready for it, but that didn’t matter.

She put her arm around him but felt him struggling with the idea of pulling away. Reluctantly, she let him go, knowing it was only a matter of time before he wouldn’t need her at all.

“Order whatever you want. Just don’t complain about a stomach ache later.”

“I won’t.” He ordered a hot dog, nachos and a root beer.

She stepped up behind him and ordered her hot dog, the garlic fries and a Diet Coke. She struck up a conversation with the lady behind the counter while they waited for their order.

“Geez, Mom. Why do you have to talk so much?” He’d waited until they were at the condiment station before complaining.

“I was only being friendly. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She unwrapped her hot dog and placed it under the mustard spout.

“Yeah, then why weren’t you very friendly with Johnny Scottsdale?” He kept his head down, concentrating on his food. She’d learned to pay attention more when he seemed least interested in making conversation. “You actually knew him in college and you barely said a word to him.”

She hit the pump on the mustard a little too hard and it splattered all over her sweater. She quickly grabbed a napkin to wipe up the stain.

“Is it… Is it because he reminds you of Dad? Does seeing him make you sad?”

“Oh, honey.” She put her arm around him, pressing him against her. How could she possibly explain why seeing Johnny again was so painful?

“It seems kind of weird that they didn’t keep in touch after college.” Zach had no idea how weird it would have been if they had. The three of them had been the best of friends. How many times had they let Mel tag along on their dates? Or how many times had she made herself at home at their place? But Johnny had been at the heart of their little group. And when he’d moved on, she and Mel turned to each other.

“Johnny was trying to make it to the big leagues.” She used the same story she’d told herself over the years. “He had to work very hard to get to where he is today. Mel had a job here in the city, and I was busy raising you. We just drifted apart, that’s all.”

“But, maybe you and Johnny can be friends again.” He had a tiny hesitation in his voice. Telling her there was more to the story than he was willing to share.

She waited. Pushing him would never get him to open up.

“Maybe…” Zach took a long slurp of his soda. “Maybe he could tell me more about my dad.”

* * * *

Well, that was a mistake. By bringing up his dad, he’d upset his mom. Zach could tell because she got really quiet. They sat in the stands to eat their lunch and watch the next round of interviews. She nibbled on her hot dog and absently picked at the garlic fries. He ended up eating most of them, which was fine. He loved garlic fries. But it was weird with her not talking. Normally she would chatter on and on about the upcoming season and especially all the new players. He’d expected her to be really excited about Johnny Scottsdale. She was probably an even bigger fan than he was.

She’d actually cried when he pitched his perfect game. Cried and hugged Zach like they’d been there. But she barely said a word to him when they met today. And they didn’t even get an autograph.

Now, she was all quiet, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she said she wanted to leave soon. He’d seen what he wanted to see. Johnny Scottsdale’s first interview as one of the Goliaths, and then he’d gotten to meet him. Sort of.

Kip Michaels stepped onstage to introduce the next set of players. He was one of the best. He never had anything bad to say about an opponent, but he was a Goliath to the core. He also managed to throw out a few tips for young players during every game. He’d point out simple things, like keeping balanced in the batter’s box or following through on a pitch. Plus, he’d been there. Way before Zach’s time, but he’d pitched in the majors for ten years. So he knew what he was talking about.

“Thank you, San Francisco!” Nathan Cooper stepped up to the mic for his turn in the spotlight. “It’s going to be a great season. I guarantee it.”

Yeah, he was alright. Kind of a showoff, though. Like it was more about him than the team. Cooper played to the crowd, making them laugh and cheer and get pumped up for the season. Even if he was kind of obnoxious, he was a pretty good pitcher. Most of the time.

Zach glanced over at his mother. She was trying to rub the mustard stain out of her sweater. He wondered if that would be her excuse for leaving early. He wouldn’t mind. Not really. He just wished he could have talked to Johnny Scottsdale more. He had a lot of questions. Mostly about baseball. Like what it was like to pitch a perfect game.

He had questions about his dad.

He barely even remembered him. Only a few fuzzy memories—mostly good—of a guy in a suit taking off his tie and getting down on the floor to play with the Thomas the Train set. He remembered watching movies and going to the park, but he didn’t think he’d ever played catch with his dad.

He’d played catch with a few different major leaguers. As part of the minicamp. He never really felt like he was part of the program though. It was more like he tagged along, just because he could. Because his mom ran the show and his grandparents had started the whole charity thing after his dad died.

Some of the other kids had it real tough, though. Single parents who worked two jobs just to pay their rent. So they didn’t have time to play catch with their kids. There were foster kids who never lived in one place long enough to be part of a team. Some of the kids had dads in the military, serving overseas in Afghanistan or places like that.