Covering Home (23 page)

“But you’re only supposed to pitch once a week, right? If they asked you to relieve the starter, how can you refuse?”

“I wanted to. All for one, one for all. Remember?”

She didn’t know what else to say. “I’ll pray for you. Please tell me what else I can do to help.”

“Thank you, that means a lot.” His voice softened. “I wish you were here.”

“I—I wish you weren’t in Japan.” She tried to keep the sadness from creeping into her voice.

It was true. She loved her family and looked forward to this weekend, but she wanted to be there for Caleb, too.

“I’ll call you when I know more.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

“‘Bye.”

She ended the call, and dropped the phone into her lap. And so it began, the complicated dance between sportscaster and professional athlete, trying to nurture a growing relationship with a vast ocean between them. Things were off to a rough start

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Have you thought about what else you could do if you can’t … stay here?” Heather asked.

“I can’t even think about that right now.” Caleb pushed aside his unfinished plate of chicken and rice. “Do you know how hard I worked to get here?”

“I know you’re upset, and rightfully so.” Heather lifted her cup of green tea and blew on the steaming liquid. “But what if this means a start of a new chapter?”

“She’s right, dude.” Aaron draped his arm around Heather’s shoulders. “It stinks that you’re injured. But maybe you could scout or manage a team—something closer to home.”

Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. “I knew I couldn’t play forever, but I didn’t expect it to end like this.”

“You can come back from this. Lots of guys do. But you should consider all of your options,” Aaron said.

Caleb rested his hands on the table.
Options.
Britt eating mango sorbet, eyes gleaming when she smiled … their last kiss at the airport. That’s where he wanted to find solace. Instead he faced the excruciating work of potential career-ending decisions.

Heather met his gaze. “Hey, don’t give up.”

Caleb lifted one shoulder in resignation. “I don’t want to give up. I think I’m in denial. Life came to a screeching halt last night. Two days ago. Whenever.”

Since the doctor told him his arm was toast—again—he’d lost all track of time. The hours dragged by while he trailed his teammates around Osaka like a stray pet.

He could still work out some, but it was obvious no one knew what to do with him now that he couldn’t pitch.

“Have you talked to Britt?” Heather asked. “She’d probably like to be a part of this decision.”

“She’s with her family for Easter. I don’t want to burden her with this.” Caleb fiddled with the unopened chopsticks lying on the table. Shin and the rest of the team had cleared out of the restaurant once lunch was over. Caleb was glad Heather and Aaron had lingered behind. It felt good to have someone to hang out with.

“I don’t think it’s a burden,” Heather said. “I watched the two of you together and it’s obvious she cares about you.”

Aaron planted a kiss on Heather’s head. “I’d love to stay and chat about our new favorite sportscaster, but I’ve got to get to batting practice. You kids have fun.”

“I’ll see you out there,” Caleb said.

“Bye, sweetie. Have a great game.” Heather smiled up at her husband. Then she fixed her blue eyes on Caleb once again. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me on the tour? I hear Osaka castle is beautiful.”

“Me and a bunch of baseball wives on a field trip?” Caleb shook his head. “Not a chance.”

Heather shrugged. “That’s what I thought you’d say. I can’t stand to see you sitting here feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Then don’t. Go on. I’ll be fine.” Caleb tilted his head toward the door, dismissing her. No sense dragging Heather into his one-man pity party.

Heather slid out of the booth. “It’s going to be all right. You’ll make the best decision for your arm and your relationship.”

“Right.” Caleb wished he could latch on to her positive outlook.

“There’s Yuko, Taka’s wife.” Heather waved through the window at a young Japanese woman waiting outside. “I’ve gotta go.”

“See you.”

Heather made her way to the front of the restaurant. Caleb watched her greet Yuko with a smile and a hug outside. The old familiar ache tugged at his heart. Aaron and Heather, Yuko and Taka … they’d found each other and managed to still play baseball. Could he and Britt chase their careers and have a future together?

Checking the time on his phone, he pushed back his chair and stood. He needed to find the nearest 7-Eleven. They were all over the place in Tokyo, hopefully he’d fare just as well in Osaka. He didn’t plan on showing up at the field any earlier than he had to. Sitting around watching everyone else warm up was torture. He had no problem cheering when another pitcher was assigned the starting role. But trying to get amped up when he was stuck on the DL was nearly impossible.

He wasn’t two steps from the table when Shin passed back through the front door of the restaurant.
Weird.
He would normally be at the field by now. Maybe he had to settle up for the cost of the team’s meal. But Shin bypassed the hostess and headed straight for Caleb, dark eyes filled with concern.

“Shin? Did you forget something?” He surveyed the long table for a neglected phone or Rays cap. Nothing but empty tea cups and dirty dishes littered the beige Formica.

“You.” Shin motioned for Caleb to sit down. “Talk for a minute?”

The hair on the back of Caleb’s neck stood on end. He returned to his chair. “Sure.”

“Your arm, it’s unfortunate,” Shin said, the divots in his forehead deepening as his brows knitted together.

“Have you heard from the owners yet?” At the risk of looking defensive, Caleb crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn’t help it. Something was up.

Shin was silent—only for an instant—but it was all Caleb needed. Shin was a messenger, a delivery man, with news that sealed Caleb’s fate.

“Just tell me.”

“The owners feel you should seek treatment in the States.”

“And then what? Come back here?”

“No.” Shin lowered his gaze, eyes flitting toward the table and an envelope in his hands.

Caleb eyed the envelope. “No?”

“I have for you a train ticket back to Tokorozawa. Also a one-way plane ticket to Los Angeles, leaving in two days.”

“Two days?” Caleb almost came out of his chair, the timbre of his voice drawing curious glances from servers bussing tables.

“Three payments—the rest of your contract—paid over time. All before October.”

The blood rushed toward his head, like a freight train bearing down. “Let me get this straight. You’re buying me out and sending me home? Wow. Thanks for the love.”

“If you stay, you go to minor leagues for rehabilitation. Better this way.” Shin tapped the envelope with his index finger.

“How’s that?” Caleb regretted parting ways with his agent. Rod’s advice would come in handy right about now. He wondered how quickly he could get him on the phone.

“You are not minor league player,” Shin said.

Caleb snorted. “But I’m no longer worthy of the Japanese Professional League, either.”

Shin frowned. “Not true. Once a Seibu Ray, always a Seibu Ray.”

Caleb shook his head and stared out the window.
Unbelievable.
He touched his fingers to his elbow. How could one small ligament tear wreak so much havoc in his life?

“Please come to the game tonight and say your goodbyes,” Shin said.

Busted.
He’d planned on making a hasty exit, bypassing all the awkward farewells, Jason hovering nearby to translate the news for his soon-to-be former teammates.

But as much as he longed to take the envelope and head for the train station, he knew in his heart that he couldn’t. He didn’t always understand the traditions of the Japanese culture, but he’d come to respect them.

He cleared his throat. “Would now be okay?”

A weak smile curved Shin’s mouth upward. He nodded. “Now is excellent.”

They stood and walked out of the restaurant together, manager and player headed for the stadium one last time.

“Auntie Britt, watch this.”

“One sec.” Britt didn’t even look up from her smartphone. Her niece’s twirling would have to wait. The texts and emails from Marne came faster than Britt could process them. An updated itinerary, including flight and hotel reservations, dictated her new departure time for tomorrow. Not to mention
Covering Home
would be on location in six different ballparks over the next eight days.

A breeze kicked up, blowing a strand of hair across her cheek. It adhered to her lip gloss. She tugged it free and glanced back toward the door of Lucas and Kristi’s church.
Come on, you guys.
If they were going to hide Easter eggs and—

“Auntie Britt, you aren’t even watching.” Lexie, her niece, grabbed Britt’s arm and tugged.

“I’m watching now. Show me again.” Britt put her phone away and forced herself to ignore the telltale chime of another text message. Didn’t they know it was Easter?

Lexie spun in circles on the sidewalk, the full skirt of her new Easter dress billowing out like a bell. The sash of white ribbon at her waist came loose, floating up off the pale yellow fabric.

“Cool, Lexie. You look so pretty,” Britt said.

Memories of an Easter morning from long ago resurfaced. They were outside another church, one with a very traditional and rigid congregation.

A place where children were seen and not heard. She’d managed to escape while her father spoke with one of his business associates and a boy from her Sunday school class had bet a dollar she couldn’t climb the tree nearby. Fancy dress and patent leather shoes forgotten, she’d proved him wrong. While she’d won the bet, her father’s reaction squelched her victory like a bucket of water dumped on a camp fire. He’d lectured her all the way home and sent her to her room to eat lunch alone. But she’d crept halfway down the stairs and listened while he discussed her behavior with her siblings.

“You’ve got to get a handle on her, Dad,” Allison said.

“She already acts like a girl who doesn’t have a mother,” Trent had weighed in.

That was the one that really stung. In fact, it could still bring tears to her eyes if she let it. What did her brother mean by that? How else was she supposed to act? Her brothers and sister didn’t have a mother anymore, either. So why were her mistakes always the ones that amplified their collective loss? The old familiar hurt bubbled up inside.
Not today
. Easter symbolized a new beginning, right? She didn’t have time to worry about the past, anyway.

“Everything okay?” Lucas asked.

Her brother’s voice yanked her back to the present as he came down the steps of the church. He held hands with both of her nephews, one stationed on either side of him, his curious gaze locked on hers.

She pasted on a smile. “I was just watching Lexie twirl, that’s all.”

“I didn’t realize her twirling was so annoying. You looked ticked.”

Britt lifted one shoulder, trying to dismiss his inquiry. Lucas never missed a thing. “Marne’s sending me to LA Joe still isn’t well enough to come back to work.”

“LA, huh?” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Isn’t that interesting?”

Britt frowned. “Why are you laughing? Did I miss something?”

“I’m not laughing. I just saw an old friend inside. He shared some news you might like to hear.”

“So what’s this news you think I can’t live without?” She fisted her hands on her hips.

“Rodney Webber’s an agent; he represents a lot of professional athletes. He and his family have gone to church here a long time. He says Caleb is headed for LA to get his arm checked out.”

Britt’s heart leaped into her throat. Words failed her.

“Looks like you and your new boyfriend will be in the same zip code. Isn’t that convenient?”

Britt slugged him playfully on the shoulder, which elicited giggles from both of her nephews and mock groans from Lucas. While she shook out her hand and pretended it was injured, drawing even more guffaws from the little boys, she felt the first quivers of anticipation building inside.

Convenient, indeed. She couldn’t wait to call Caleb and get the whole story.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The white paper on the exam table in Doctor Weaver’s office crinkled beneath his weight as Caleb scooted back and leaned against the wall. He yawned and scrubbed his face with his hand, glancing at the time on his phone. If he were in Osaka with his team, he’d be going to bed right now. This sixteen-hour time difference was a bear. His head felt thick, he couldn’t formulate a complete thought. It wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty to think about, either. At least Dr. Weaver would be in to see him and offer his expertise. Keeping his former surgeon’s contact info was one of the best decisions he’d made when he left the States.

His phone buzzed next to him and the screen lit up with a new text message.
Britt.
He hoped so. He should call her. He wanted to call her, longed to hear her voice and one of her witty comebacks.