The Shortstop (11 page)

Forcing those thoughts from my mind, I focus on the laughter that surrounds me. Our parents get along beautifully. I often wonder if they weren’t best friends, would they have been against us becoming a couple? If so, would Quint and I have survived? They’re such a huge part of us. How do couples survive without a strong support system? The Lawsons love me like a daughter, and my parents worship the ground Quint walks on. We’re very lucky.

“What are you thinking about?” Quint whispers into my ear.

“How lucky I am.”

He lifts my left hand and places a single kiss on my engagement ring. “How lucky we are.”

Nodding, I confirm with a smile. “We are.”

Quint

To my left is the head coach. To my right is the general manager. Before us in the front row are my parents, Annie, her parents, my lawyer, my agent, and several assistant coaches. Behind them are about fifty journalists, reporters, and sportscasters from every corner of the sports media world. In the very back are dozens of paparazzi, their long-lens cameras flashing repetitively, capturing every facial expression I make.

My face will be plastered on every newspaper, sports report, and sports channel come tomorrow. Externally, all they’ll see is a smiling guy, eager to play the game. Hopefully, the pictures they capture will hide the truth, because internally I’m freaking out!

Yes, I’m nervous. Today, I can honestly say I’ve reached the highest level of nervous energy in my entire life. The only way I can channel it is by manically shaking my leg.

As Yankees’
management details my contract to the press, I sit and wait for my opportunity to speak. I’ve prepared a statement with my lawyer’s help. There will be a question and answer period, and Lord knows what they’ll ask. My agent ran through typical questions that pop up at these things. He also shared a list of outlandish, ridiculous, and even downright bizarre questions they could ask. That’s the part that has me scared. He assured me the press manager wouldn’t let it get out of control. The conference will end after I read my statement.

“I’d like to welcome number 77, shortstop Quint Lawson to the New York
Yankees!”

The room explodes with applause. My personal cheerleaders lead the rest in noise volume. The smile on my face is genuine. I can’t fake what I’m feeling at the moment… Fucking amazing would sum it up pretty nicely.

My new coach hands me my hat and jersey. I remove my suit jacket with shaky hands to slip the jersey on and then place the hat on my head. With a grip on my shoulder, he shakes my right hand while smiling for the press.

Once the room settles down, we take our seats again to start the question and answer portion of the press conference.

Questions hit me from every direction. Lawrence Howard, the Yankees’ press manager
,
selects who goes first by calling out their name.

“Peter,” Lawrence calls out.

A gentleman stands a few rows back, holding a small recorder in his hand. “I’m Peter Winton,
The Times
. Congratulations, Quint.”

“Thank you very much.”

“Do you feel mentally prepared for your start this weekend against Kansas City?”

Nodding, I say, “I am. I’ve been mentally preparing myself for a very long time. But ask me again minutes before I take the field.”

The room erupts in laughter.

“Steve,” Lawrence says.

“Steve Lindell,
Daily News
. Congrats, Quint.”

I nod and smile, “Thanks.”

“You’re coming in weeks before the All-Star break with the team chasing first place by three games. What objectives will you bring with you to the team?”

My sarcastic mind quips,
to win, dumbass
. Instead I say, “I think the team’s playing well defensively. My objective is to contribute every way I can both defensively and offensively. I hope to seamlessly slip right in and pull my weight.”

The questions go on and on.

“Valerie,” Lawrence calls next.

“Hi, Quint. Valerie Foster,
GQ
. Welcome to New York.”

“Thank you.”

“Is it true you are marrying your childhood sweetheart?”

My eyes find Annie, who is blushing in the front row. “Yes, that’s true.”

“That’s adorable. Is she ready to share you?”

The room laughs, and Lawrence quickly steps in. “Is that your question, Val?”

“Kidding,” she says while smiling coyly. Her next question is just as shallow as her first. “Favorite designer?”

“Nike,” I respond without a hitch.

“Good answer,” she says with a wink. This chick is brazen, and it’s obvious she feels very comfortable in this male-dominated sports world. “The magazine would like to feature you in next month’s issue.”

And so it begins.

“I look forward to it,” I respond easily, lying through my teeth. I’m definitely not looking forward to the media circus that’s about to hit. I just want to play…all the rest that comes with the territory, not so much. 

When three questions in a row are about my personal life, Lawrence quickly ends the question and answer period. Upon my cue, I clear my throat and pause a moment to settle my racing heart.

“I want to thank you all for coming today. I’ve imagined this day for as long as I can remember. The outpouring of support I’ve received from my peers, fellow teammates, coaches, management, and executive staff has been nothing short of amazing. I’m a rookie, a novice. I’m just a baseball fanatic who wants to play the sport and play it well.

“Legends have walked where I’m about to. I’m humbled to have the opportunity to stand where they stood. I’ll do my best to earn these pinstripes. I’ll do my best to earn your respect. Most importantly, I’ll do my best to make my family proud. They have been a constant support in my life. Without them, I wouldn’t be here today.”

Flashes blind me as the applause reaches a thunderous volume. My first press conference is over. I can’t help but release a sigh of relief. When I meet Annie’s eye, she’s beaming, clapping, and crying all at the same time.

“I love you,” she mouths to me. My response is to tip my new Yankees hat.

The press and paparazzi are ushered out of the room. Once the room empties, waiters appear holding trays loaded with champagne.

Assistant coaches and some of the executives offer congratulatory comments and a few toasts in my honor. For the next hour, I’m introduced to every executive and assistant in the organization. It’s overwhelming, and I’ll never remember all these people.

Annie stands at the opposite side of the room. It’s as if she’s afraid to show any affection in case someone pops out from behind a potted plant to take our picture. After I motion her over, she tentatively approaches.

“Why are you all the way over there?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt. Q, I’m so proud of you.”

I bend to give her a quick peck on the lips. “Could you tell I was nervous?”

“Not at all. Except for your jiggling leg,” she adds with a giggle.

My coach clasps my shoulder and smiles. “You did great, kid. You’re a natural.”

“Thanks, Coach.” Turning toward Annie, I introduce her as my fiancée. He shakes her hand and says, “We’ll take good care of him here. You do the same at home.” He winks and turns to leave the room.

“Hear that? You have your work cut out for you, Mrs. Lawson. Are you up for the challenge?”

“I’m disappointed in your lack of confidence in me,” she says with a mock frown. Leaning closer, she whispers, “Do I need to remind you the condition I reduced you to last night?”

My suit pants tighten from the visual. Thank God my jersey hides the evidence. “My mistake,” I admit. “I seem to have lost my head.”

“No worries. I’ll be sure it doesn’t get too
big
, shortstop.”

YANKEES NAB ROOKIE FROM ORIOLES

YANKEES HAIL LAWSON AS POSSIBLE FRANCHISE PLAYER

THE NEW KID GETS TOP DOLLARS AND PINSTRIPES

“
I think this one is my favorite,” Annie says while holding up the
New York Post
.

QUINT-ESSENTIAL BASEBALL COMES TO NEW YORK.

“I like that one, too,” I admit with a smile.

It’s late. We’re sitting in our hotel room surrounded by every newspaper that she was able to carry in her arms. My face keeps popping up on the local news and every sports report all day long.

The team gave me a day to get organized. They’re finishing up a series at home with the Rays. The day after tomorrow, I’m expected on the field to practice and then start that night against the Royals.

After the press conference, there was a small reception for me. It was quick since the team had a game that night. Annie met my teammates, and we both met their families. Most of the wives were very nice, offering to help her in any way they could. She exchanged phone numbers with some. She played with some of their children. Everyone was very kind and professional
.
It surprised her based on past experiences.

I reminded her we’re in the pros now.

After the reception, Annie went back to the hotel with our parents to have dinner while I went to the game. Even though they weren’t expecting me, I felt it would be a good move to show my face tonight.

Our parents left after dinner, my dad included. Now that the tornado is swirling around us, I’m feeling overwhelmed…even more so for Annie and our folks. Our moms are heading straight to our apartment in Baltimore to pack some of our things. They’re both taking some time off from work to help in any way they can. Dad will be meeting with Mr. Furrows tomorrow. He has a ton of paperwork to handle between life insurance policies and promotional obligations that I am contractually required to fulfill. My future father-in-law will be helping Annie arrange movers. They’ll all be back for my debut against Kansas City, with promises to make as many games as their schedules will allow.

This move to New York will affect them all.

“While you were at the stadium, Daphne confirmed she and Billy are coming to your starting game.”

While staring at the headlines, I nod and say, “I assumed, so I got them tickets. You’re all sitting together behind the Yankees’
dugout. You’ll have to pick the tickets up at the box office that day.” Just another thing I’m adding to her to-do list. 

Annie senses my quietness and reaches for my hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Baby, I feel bad dumping everything on you.”

“I’m fine.” She waves off my concerns. “I can handle it. Besides, all I have to do is find a great apartment. The movers are handling everything else.”

“I know, but still. It’s not just the move. We need a car, and you need to…”

“Q.” she stops me from continuing. “One day at a time. Tomorrow, I’ll help you get ready to play. After you start, I’ll jump into apartment hunting. I assume we’re staying here until I find a place?”

“Yes. I extended our reservation indefinitely.”

“Good. After we know where we’ll be living, we can lease a car in a day. We’ll handle it, Q. Stop worrying.”

“And school?”

She shrugs indifferently. “School can wait.”

“That’s what I was afraid you’d say. We didn’t discuss that part.”

“I decided to take a break this semester.”

“Annie.” I scrub my face with a heavy hand. Guilt slowly slinks through my veins.

“What? This is no different than when we moved to Baltimore.”

“It’s worse. You struggled after that move. If you think my schedule was grueling with the IronBirds
,
that’s nothing compared to the Yankees.”

She tosses the newspaper she’s holding onto the table and turns to face me on the couch. “Babe, I feel really badly about how I handled our move to Baltimore. It had nothing to do with feeling overwhelmed. Part of me thinks it was the realization that school was over for you, and maybe I was a bit jealous. I know I’ve always said I wanted to continue, but once we finished and I got a taste of what our lives were going to be like, I struggled with that. Instead of excitement over continuing my education, I was feeling dread. That confused me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I only realized it recently.” She settles against me so I can wrap an arm around her. “I’ve told you before, you worry about playing, and I’ll handle everything else. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. As long as you promise you’ll talk to me if it becomes too much to handle.”

She looks up into my eyes. “I promise.”

I drink in her beauty, focusing on her pink lips. They part when I trace them with the pad of my thumb. “When will you marry me?”

With a smile, she places a kiss on my thumb. “Is your mom rubbing off on you?”