Trent (Season Two: The Ninth Inning #4) (2 page)

Walking into the office, I
smile at my co-workers, but mainly keep to myself. Because my
brother and I have different last names and Dominic never came
around my office, no one knows he and I are related.

The only person who knows is
my dear friend, Macy. She and I have been friends since college.
She’s a reporter for the Memphis Daily News and thanks to her, my
name has never been mentioned in the papers. I even used the back
entrance to the courthouse and reporters didn’t see me. Since our
mother has been out of the picture for years, they never mention
any family. All of the reporters call Dominic a career criminal and
drug addict. Those aren’t lies. He is a criminal, and he has a drug
problem.

I push all my family issues
out of my head as I turn my focus to the mountain-high stack of
paperwork on my desk. These kids need me and I’m going to help
them. Since I had several home visits yesterday, today is all about
the follow-up paperwork and forms I have to fill out. As I shuffle
through file after file, my mind is lost in the abuse and neglect
of these kids. I give my full attention to each case, and it’s
hard, seeing it all. However, I try to find the time, and most of
all, I try not to take it personally. It’s the hardest yet most
rewarding job.

Before I know it, the day has
flown by, and it’s time to end it. I run a few errands before
hitting the gym. I wait as late as I possibly can because the
exhaustion of working out helps me pass out when I get home.

I quickly change in the
locker room, pop in my earbuds, and jump onto the treadmill. The
gym is nearly empty and I like it that way. I focus on the TV ahead
of me and listen to the loud bass music thumping in my ears.
Running has always helped clear my mind. It’s why I joined the
track team in high school, how I got my scholarship to college, and
how I get through almost every day of my life.

I see Trent approaching his
usual treadmill, but I don’t make eye contact with him. My vision
remains trained in front of me. I said all I needed to say to him
yesterday; there is nothing else.

When I finish my ten miles, I
head over to the stretching center. Pushing and pulling on my body
relieves the muscles. I’m lost in the intensity of the music when I
feel a tap on my shoulder. I pull the buds out of my ears and turn
around, only to find Trent Baker staring back at me.

Good Lord. My mouth goes dry
because I think he must know who I am, though I'm not sure how he
would've found out. Is he going to scream at me?

“Um...I wanted to say thank
you for your kind words yesterday. I’m sorry I was so
off-putting.”

“Huh?” Did Trent apologize to
me? He stares at me with a perplexed expression. “Sorry.” I shake
my head. “I mean, you weren’t off-putting. I’m sure I sounded like
a crazy person. Just forget about it.”

Please, for the love of God,
forget about me.

Trent looks uncomfortable for
a second, before asking, “Would you like to go over to the juice
bar?”

My heart stops. Is he asking
me out? Has he lost his ever-loving mind? He can’t ask me out.
Good Lord, Scarlett, let him down easy and walk away.
This
is so bad.

“I would love to, but I’m
getting ready to leave. I have an early morning meeting I need to
do extra work for,” I quickly rush out the lie. “How about a rain
check?”
A rain check? What are you doing?

“I understand. Sure. A rain
check would be great.” He gives me a sad smile and my heart breaks.
I could be the first female he’s talked to since his wife died.

“Seriously.” I touch his arm,
and he tenses up. “Next time.”

He nods again, and I rush
away, as fast as my legs will take me, to the locker room. This
isn’t a good thing.

***

MY LIFE HAS been in
disarray for months. Half the time, I don’t even know what I’m
doing. Ever since my wife, Deborah, was killed during a mugging, I
feel like I’m running on low batteries. The only bright light that
keeps me going is our daughter, Kaelyn. She’s the sweetest little
girl, and I don’t know what I’d do without her.

I also don’t know what I
would do without my grandmother, who keeps Kaelyn while I work and
when she’s not in school. It’s my second season with the team, and
we have the season opener tomorrow. It’s going to be tough to have
both of them there, but not Deborah. I try to push away the
heaviness of my sorrow as well as the weirdness about what happened
at the gym.

The moment I open the door,
Kaelyn shouts, “Daddy!” and runs toward me.

I scoop her up in my arms.
“How’s my girl?”

“Me and Granny made cookies,
and she let me eat some dough like Mommy did.”

The ever-present ache in my
chest grows, but I ignore it. “Yeah? Did you save me any
cookies?”

“Yep.” When I start walking
into the kitchen where the cookies and Granny are, she quickly
adds, “But you have to guess our secret word first! If you don’t,
then we get
all
the cookies.”

I glance at Kaelyn, the
spitting image of my wife. “I have to guess? Don’t I get a free
cookie because I’m Daddy?” I set her down on the stool at the bar
and kiss Granny on the cheek. I turn around to face Kaelyn, who is
thinking hard with pursed lips.

“I guess you can have a free
cookie, but you can’t have any more until you guess the secret
word,” she finishes in a whisper.

I pick up a chocolate chip
cookie from the plate and take a bite, wondering what the word
could be. “Do you know what it is, Granny?” I ask.

She laughs and nods. “I do,
but I’ve been sworn to secrecy, so I can’t help you.”

“And,” Kaelyn begins. “Three
strikes and you’re out, Daddy. Just like baseball, so you get three
guesses.” She holds up her hand and slowly and carefully counts
until she has three fingers up.

“Is it baseball?” I ask. She
giggles and shakes her head. I take another bite while I think. “Is
the secret word Kaelyn?”

“No! You’re almost out.”

Granny starts laughing
softly, which makes Kaelyn giggle. My fate at having another cookie
is on the line, and I know if I guess wrong, Kaelyn will be on
cookie patrol.

“What about cookie?” Maybe
she picked the obvious.

“Yep! That’s it. Good job,
Daddy. I’m going to finish coloring now.” She hops off the stool
and runs off.

I finish my cookie before
asking my usual question, “How was she today?”

“The same as every day,”
Granny answers as she goes to the dishwasher and turns it on. “She
behaved and raved about school while we baked the cookies. She’s
excited to go to the game tomorrow, too. How are
you
today?”

My eyes follow where Kaelyn
disappeared. “I’m fine. Do you want me to drop her off with you
before I head to the field or do you want to come here?”

Granny’s watchful eyes are on
me when I look back at her. “I’ll come here. How was the gym?”

“Fine. Are you staying for
dinner?”

Sometimes she’ll stay,
sometimes she won’t. “No, I’m going home. Spend time with Kaelyn
before your schedule gets crazy. The lasagna should be done in
fifteen minutes. I’ll see you tomorrow, Trent.”

She pats me on the shoulder
before leaving the room. I hear her saying goodbye and then she’s
gone. It’s back to us being on our own.

“Daddy! Come color with me!”
Kaelyn yells from the living room. Just when I need a push to keep
moving, my daughter is there to motivate me.

“I’m coming.”

“How’s that?” I ask Kaelyn.
She wanted to get ready before I left, so I’ve been helping since
I’m dressed. Of course, today, she wanted to wear her hair in
pigtails. Why something so seemingly simple is so hard for me to
get Kaelyn’s approval on, I don’t know.

Kaelyn turns her head left
and right as she looks in the mirror from where she stands on her
little foot stool. “You’re getting better, Daddy. Can I have bows
too?” She tilts her head back to look up at me as I stand behind
her.

“Bows?”

“I’ll show you.” She hops
down and runs off. A second later, she returns, holding two pieces
of ribbon with baseballs on them. Deborah would make a bow around
the hair bow of each ponytail. Kaelyn stands in front of the mirror
and tries to make a bow, to show me how I’m supposed to do it for
her. After fumbling for a minute, she huffs and throws the ribbon
on the counter. Tears well in her eyes and she turns around to face
me. “I can’t do it. Mommy knows how.”

I take a deep breath. “Let me
try.” I reach for the ribbon and hope like hell I can do it like
Mommy. After making bows on each pigtail, I turn Kaelyn around for
judging.

She breaks out into a grin.
“You did it!” She turns around and hugs me around the waist. “Now,
I’m ready, too.”

“And you look beautiful.” I
kiss the top of her head. “I think I hear Granny; let’s go
see.”

Just as I thought, Granny is
here. I feel good about my parenting skills when she congratulates
me on how Kaelyn’s hair looks. I get a big hug and good luck kiss
from Kaelyn before I’m able to leave for the field.

The support from the team
after Deborah’s death was almost overwhelming. It was reassuring to
know that even though we’re all relatively new together, they have
my back and are there if I ever wanted to take them up on their
offers. At least, now that time has passed, I don’t get the same
sad looks and questions every day.

I keep to myself before the
game and stay quiet during warm-ups. I thought about quitting,
finding a job that would keep me home more with Kaelyn, but Granny
convinced me not to. She said she would help and that I needed to
keep something for myself, which, apparently, is baseball.

So when I step onto the field
for our first game of the season, I push out my beautiful daughter,
the grief, the rage of having some low life like Dominic Davis take
her from me over what was in her purse, and I send it all out of my
head. Instead, I focus on my love for a simple ball game. Until
it’s over and I have to face reality again.

It feels good to be back.

That’s my first thought when
I catch a throw from Colby on third base and tag a runner out. The
weather is perfect, the crowd is roaring with excitement over a new
season, and we’re in the lead. Felix is pitching beauties so far
today. Hector is providing us all entertainment in the dugout as he
annoys Blake, or as he calls him, Grumpy. Jordan is up at home
plate and I’m next.

Roman is on second and when
Jordan hits one way out in left field. It brings Roman home and
puts Jordan on second. I step up to the plate, my feet wide apart
for my stance, and I inhale. No other scent could match the aroma
of a baseball field. It gets my blood pumping, ready for what’s
coming.

Maybe it’s because it’s the
first game of the season, maybe it’s because my daughter is here,
maybe it’s because I’m sure Deborah is watching us, or maybe it’s
all three. Either way, I swing on the first pitch, my bat connects,
and the ball soars through the air. I make it to first with a
genuine smile, something I don’t do often.

Granny was right. I need
baseball.

***