The Shortstop (30 page)

As if my lips have a mind of their own, they drive my face to lean in closer for another kiss when Billy shouts, “Not yet!” stopping me in my tracks. “Ring time.”

Billy holds out his palm and we each take the other’s rings. “Annie, please repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed.”

Annie repeats. He asks me to do the same. As I place the ring on her finger, I lean in for a kiss.

“No!”

“You’re a hard-ass minister.”

“I take my role very seriously,” he says, prompting Annie to giggle again and our guests to laugh at his antics as well.

“Where was I? Oh yeah. By the powers vested in me from
GetOrdained.org
, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He stands, smiling like a fool, alternating his eyes between Annie and me.

After a full, long minute I ask, “Seriously?”

“What? Oh, you want to kiss her? I love this power I have.”

“Billy.”

“You may
now
kiss your bride.”

Hooting, hollering, clapping, cheering, filter across the beach to where I’m making out with my wife like we did when we were twelve.

Annie

Being married to Quint is like heaven on earth. I love sending him off to his job and waiting for him to come home to me every night. I love introducing myself as Annie Lawson. I love how my wedding band is an advertisement that I’m someone’s wife. I love every part of being a wife. I even love the arguments because the make-ups are worth the angst. Most of all, I love my husband more than anything or anyone on this planet.

It’s only been a month since our wedding, but he’s already proving to be an awesome husband. He’s very busy covering his team’s home games and doing his live broadcast. I’m taking online classes to accelerate my degree. Our free time is spent enjoying great weather days in Central Park, watching the Yankees from the press box, or just relaxing at home. 

Billy has been up twice since the wedding. The last time was just a few days ago. He met us in the city with his girlfriend, aka my ex-roommate, Lisa. He met Lisa when he helped me move into my apartment. It’s been very casual between them, until recently. When he helped me move out of it, they turned a corner. I had no idea they had. He was going to surprise me at our wedding, but she wasn’t able to make it. Billy knew I’d be so happy to hear their news. I adore Lisa. Our friendship started when I was at my lowest low. Even though she barely knew me, she let me mourn yet made sure I knew she was there for me. It meant the world to me, and I’ll never forget it.

Billy deserves all the happiness in the world. I’ve always felt that. Memories of the heartache Daphne put him through now make me sick. In hindsight, there were plenty of signs that they weren’t made for each other. For whatever reason, I chose to ignore them.

“Babe?”

“I’m in here.” I can hear as he moves around the condo, his cane clicking on the hardwood floors, before he opens the door to my office.

“Hey, baby. Whatcha’ doin’?”

He comes over to where I’m sitting at the desk. The piece of paper I’ve been staring at falls from my hands.

“What’s wrong?” he asks after he gives me a kiss.

“I received an email from Daphne.”

He searches my face with concern. “And?”

“She wishes us well, says she misses me, no mention of you, thank God. She wants to try to rebuild our friendship.”

Quint leans against the desk, taking my hand. “Is that something you want?”

I stare at the email again. The words littering the page cause me confusion. “I do miss her and what we had. I’m not sure I can ever get back to where we were.” He contemplates my words, but waits for me to continue. “I see how you and Billy have moved on with your friendship. I feel like a bitch that I can’t so easily do the same.”

“You aren’t a bitch. I feel horrible I created this between you.”

“Q, she played a huge role, too. Even if she truly didn’t intend to hurt me, she very easily could have by forgetting I existed. I can’t get past that. I feel like she saw an opportunity and went for it. Yet, I forgave you. I’m awful.”

“That’s because you are in love with me.” He cups my face, tilting my head until I can’t stare at anything else but his eyes. “You aren’t awful. You were the victim in that mess, and it’s something I’ll have to live with. Right now, she’s feeling the same way. You have every right to be confused. But, I know you, baby. I know your kindness and compassion are causing this conflict within you. Maybe take it slow, have lunch or start with a phone call.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He kisses me gently before releasing his hold.

“More importantly, did you decide?” His question reminds me of my homework assignment. He left me with the task of planning our honeymoon. Quint wants me to decide when and where, which is completely unfair. How can I possibly choose between Europe and the Caribbean?

“I decided when,” I say proudly.

“Okay, that’s a start. When?”

“The first week in November.”

He smiles warmly. “What would have been our original wedding anniversary?”

“Yeah. The season will be over for you. It’s a good time to get away. But more importantly, I want to remember that date in a happy way.”

“I completely agree. So where?”

“I can’t decide. Making me choose is just mean. You choose.”

He sighs and gives me a lopsided grin. “I had a feeling you’d say that. I have the perfect solution.” He waits a pause and then says, “Both.”

“Both? You want to go to Europe and the Caribbean?”

“Yes, both. Europe will give you the vacation you’ve always wanted, and the Caribbean will give me a white sand beach where I can fuck you over and over.”

“That’s insane.”

“I’ll make sure no one sees your gorgeous naked ass. If you’re afraid of getting arrested, I’ll find a secluded spot.” I throw him an openmouthed gaping stare and he asks, “What?”

“I don’t mean that. I mean both will cost us a small fortune.”

“Which we have. Are we going to fight about this again?” he asks with annoyance seeping into the tone of his voice. The vein currently pulsing in his neck reminds me of my promise.

One of our rare fights after the wedding was about finances and my lack of contribution. It’s an old argument that keeps resurfacing. After a very heated debate, I finally promised him I would
knock it the fuck off
—his words.

“Sounds like a plan.” I appease with a sweet smile while batting my eyelashes for emphasis.

“Good girl.” He kisses me long and hard. “I’ll call the travel agent tomorrow so she can get started.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I may have lied when I said I wouldn’t get us arrested.”

I shove him playfully, and he catches my chin to pull me in for a kiss.

“I know it’s late, but are you hungry?”

“Yes.” He takes my hand and drags me to our bed. “I’m starving…but only for you.”

“Oh my God, Q! We can’t.”

“Yes, we can. Shh, no one will notice unless they hear you.”

“I’ll hurt your knee.”

“No, you won’t. You’re fine. Now stop talking.” He has me straddling his hips. The warm turquoise water laps around our bodies, barely making a ripple. It’s so clear, you can see our bodies pressed against each other below the surface. As promised, he did find a secluded alcove, but anyone can come around the bend in the beach at any moment.

We arrived today. Our two-week European honeymoon was a dream. I couldn’t get enough of London until we hit Paris. I couldn’t get enough of Paris until we hit Rome. Walking was difficult for Q, so he arranged private tours in each location. The food, the sights, the hotels were all amazing. I almost didn’t want to leave. Q reminded me we had the best part of our vacation still to come. Being here now, I’d have to agree. This week is the perfect ending to a perfect honeymoon. By the time we get home, it’ll almost be Thanksgiving.

I can feel his hand against my belly lowering the waistband of his swimsuit. Once he frees himself, he slides my bikini bottom to the side and pushes himself in. Any words of disapproval that were on the tip of my tongue vanish into thin air as he thrusts, filling me completely. The sensations swelling within me are indescribable. This voyeuristic, blatant act of public lewdness, the warm Caribbean Sea, and his hard, long strokes enhance the epic orgasm I feel building in my core.

“Oh fuck, baby. You feel so good. I wish you could feel what it feels like to be inside you right now.”

“I wish you could feel what it feels like to have you inside me right now.” I grip his shoulders to keep myself in this perfect position.

Up until now, we probably looked like a loving couple having a normal conversation. The closer he gets to coming, the more obvious his movements become to anyone who could be watching us.

“I’m close. Hurry, baby,” he grunts through quick pants.

His words put me over. Instinctively, I bury my face in his neck to muffle the scream that I want to release. My orgasm rips through me, leaving me quivering while wrapped around his body.

He mimics my posture by burying his face in my neck.

“Fuck. Annie,” he murmurs against my skin. I feel his arms tighten around my back. If a passerby saw us, they wouldn’t have a doubt of what we are doing out here. I patiently wait as my husband uses the ebb and flow of the surf to further enhance his release. “So good. So fucking good,” he says while staring into my eyes. When I think he’s done, he gives me one more thrust for good measure while giving me a sexy smile.

“See, I told you we wouldn’t be arrested.”

“Yet.”

“True. We do have seven more days here. Keep your fingers crossed. I heard jails around here are no picnic for Americans.”

“Stop jinxing us. Are you okay?” I ask as I dismount onto shaky legs. “Is your knee okay?”

“Perfectly fine. You weigh nothing at all in the ocean. Brilliant, right?”

I kiss his adorable smirk. “Brilliant. Nonetheless, please take me back to our room so we can do this again in private.”

“You have to admit being out here made the fuck feel so awesome.”

“Yes, Q. You were right.”

Seven years later

“Now batting…number seven…Jake Lawson!”

All eyes are on my son. The only eyes I care about are the blue ones that belong to my wife, Annie Lawson. Her clapping is the loudest, her smile the biggest. There’s no question that Annie is Jake’s biggest fan. His grandparents sitting beside her do come in a close second. The best friends are closer than ever now that they share grandchildren. Seeing my mother happy and healthy is a gift from God. We almost lost her years ago, and I’ll never take a loved one for granted again. I almost lost everyone who meant so much to me.

The most important person that I count my lucky stars for every single day is Annie. Together twenty-four years, seven of them married, and it turns out that I
can
make her happy. Every day I make it a point to do something to make her happy. On special occasions, it’s by traveling to places she’s wanted to see. She wanted matching tattoos, and I surprised her with that gift one Christmas. She sports a heart-shaped baseball with my initial, and I sport one with hers. My Annie has been a rock in our relationship. The way my wife can love, give, and forgive just completely astounds me. She forgave her friend Daphne. I never doubted that she would. The woman is a gem, my gem.

Annie sits proudly with our daughter, Brooke, on her lap. A dripping ice cream cone preoccupies Brooke. With a quick lick, Annie contains the mess for the moment. The vision of those two causes my heart to flip in my chest. My daughter, a mini-me to her mom, she’s already as feisty as Annie was when younger.

She sure is giving us a run for our money. Jake was a quiet baby. Where you sat him, he stayed. At three, Brooke can’t be held down even if we nailed her to the ground. She’s a handful, for sure. Once Jake arrived, Annie gave up her teaching job to stay home with him. That was a fight. My job now takes me on the road with the team during the season. It made sense for her to be home with the kids. We negotiated and arrived at an agreement. When Brooke goes to school, Annie will then go back to teaching…if she goes back. Now that she’s gotten a taste of being a full-time mom, I predict she’ll want to continue. She’s always wanted three children, and getting her pregnant again is the next item I plan to cross off her bucket list.

Annie turns my way, beaming as her son takes his debut at bat in the Pee Wee League. I love coaching my son, and now know how my dad felt. I love teaching my boy how to hold a bat and then watch as he makes his first hit. I get paid to be a sportscaster, but my real job is a volunteer Little League coach. Since my injury, physically, I’m all healed. After a few more surgeries, including a knee replacement, I no longer need a cane. I have been able to live an active life. I just can’t do so on a baseball diamond. Although my professional baseball career was short, I left my mark. I try to give back as much as possible. I spend my spare time volunteering with kids who are recovering from sports injuries. I take my roles very seriously, including Little League coach.

I’ve grown so much as a person, as a husband, a father, a son, and as a friend. My best friend Billy and I have mended our relationship. His wife Lisa is expecting their second child. His son is a little older than Brooke and just as rambunctious. Ava and Jeff Contreras and their three kids complete our inner circle. We keep our circle tight. I’m lucky to have such great friends and family.

Annie and I continue to make eye contact, and then she turns back to Jake to give him a thumbs-up. I’m standing at first base, ready to guide him if he gets a hit. With his game face on, Jake gives me a nod.

“Come on, son. You got this.”

“Come on, Jake!” I distinctly hear Annie’s scream above all others coming from the bleachers.

The umpire and catcher wait patiently for the pitcher to throw the ball. While waiting, Jake adorably runs through the superstitious routine I taught him…three quick taps on home plate with his bat and a quick glance at his mom before staring at the pitcher.

The first pitch barely reaches the plate. The second pitch rolls toward the plate in the dirt. The pitcher looks toward his coach for guidance. Jake’s posture is perfect. His eyes remain trained on the pitcher as the third pitch travels right toward him, albeit in slow motion. My son swings, makes contact, and sends the ball in a loop over the pitcher’s head. Most of the infield scurries for the ball, ignoring the positions they are supposed to be playing. My son stands stunned at the plate.

“Run,
son
!
Run
!”

Jake is so busy staring at the ball that he only begins to move at the sound of my voice. The helmet he wears makes him look like a bobblehead as he runs toward me at first base. I need to stifle a laugh at how absolutely adorable he looks. The second baseman throws a slow, rolling ball to the first baseman. It hits his cleat, sending it rolling toward the fence. Jake instinctively goes to run to second until I say, “Hold up, son.”

He plants both feet on the bag, beaming from the applause he’s receiving for his commendable single. The loudest cheers coming from his mother, sister, and grandparents.

My son is a natural.

Baseball is what he was born to do.