The umpire’s call surprised Matt. The pitch had been low and, to his eye, well out of the strike zone. Maybe the ump favored the pitcher because the bases were loaded and the game was tied in the bottom of the ninth. Maybe it was because this was the second grueling game of the doubleheader with the Phillies and the ump’s eyes were failing him. Whatever had the ump making such calls, Matt had to deal with it. He stepped out of the batter’s box and focused. At times like these, times when he needed strength and energy he didn’t have, he imagined tapping into the power source of the universe, whatever the heck it was. Scotty had all sorts of theories, most of them involving equations and astrophysics, but this was no time for theory. He needed power in action, in the physical realm, not some abstract idea.
Matt shut his eyes. Saw his bat connect to the ball. Felt it. Heard it.
He knocked the dirt off his cleats with the bat head and stepped back in.
The Phillies’ pitcher shook off three signals from the catcher. That was a good sign. The count was two and one. Normally with the bases loaded he'd look for something off-speed. But he had a hunch and he wasn’t going to ignore it.
The pitcher nodded and hauled in his breath. Sometimes Matt swore he could hear the pitcher’s breaths over the sound of the crowd. Today he not only heard it, he felt it.
He connected to the guy’s four-seamer with a crack that made Alex smile as he dashed around the bases in front of Matt. Campion crossed the plate from third as the ball sailed out of the stands and dropped toward the water in McCovey Cove.
Some days the game was bliss.
After the game, Matt stood under the shower for longer than usual, letting the heated water pelt him. Mrs. Wallenberg would already have Sophie in bed. She’d be mending the rips in his T-shirts if he let her, but he’d put the kibosh on domestic duties. Take care of Sophie, cook meals and keep her company—that was enough. Enough that he could soothe his aching muscles for just a few more minutes.
“Nice moon shot,” Alex said as he ducked under a shower head a few feet from Matt’s. “Good thing I’m retiring at the end of the year; you’re showing me up.”
It was Alex’s highest compliment, and Matt knew it. Alex had earned the Triple Crown, one of baseball’s greatest achievements, two years earlier and was on track this year to do it again—a near impossibility. He’d attributed his recent success to marrying the right woman. Matt didn’t believe in such things but after observing Alex’s stat-busting performance, he was beginning to rethink his skepticism.
“Just glad to be part of the team,” Matt said with a grin. It might be an overused phrase, but it worked because it was true.
“You won’t get off so easy.”
Alex turned and let the water run over his lower back. He put his palms to his hips and bent forward, pushing his back into the flow. Matt saw the twitch in his eyes.
“You stiff?” He didn’t expect Alex to answer. A player admitted to nothing less drastic than dying or bleeding to death.
“Knifed,” Alex replied. “Tweaked something on that last hit.” He twisted so his left hip was directly under the stream of pounding heat.
They stood unmoving, letting the pressure and heat ease muscles that often complained this late in the season. A brotherhood of spasms, one of his teammates had called the months after the All-Star break. It wasn’t far from the truth.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into Alana,” Alex said. He turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist; there were women sportscasters in the clubhouse, so no one wanted to be caught buck-naked. “She’s hosting an event at the ranch to benefit needy kids. Called me out of the blue.” He grabbed a second towel from the stack by the entrance to the showers. “She’s got my whole family coming. Played the camp-scholarships-for-underprivileged-kids angle hard.” He bent at the waist and shook the water from his hair, then used the towel to dry it. “Scotty and Chloe are coming.” He paused. “I think she really wants you to come.”
“I’m too busy.”
“You forget I know your schedule—it’s a night off.”
“I thought you said she was trouble? I found your report to be exceedingly accurate.”
“Affirmative.” Alex laughed. “Still true. All of us Tavonesis are trouble. But I’ll watch your back.”
It wasn’t his back that worried Matt. It was parts lower and way more influential. “I’m trying for some distance, Alex.”
“Something you’re rather good at.”
Matt turned off the shower. Alex’s tone was friendly but it didn’t hide the truth. He grabbed a towel, ran it through his hair and then tossed it in the bin. “I’ve thought about it.” He grabbed another towel and snapped it around his waist. “Alana could break Sophie’s heart without even knowing it. Sophie’s already too hooked into her, but that’s my fault. I should’ve seen it coming.”
They crossed to their lockers. Most of the other guys had already showered and left the clubhouse.
“Alana’s not even close to dealing with what it takes to be in a kid’s life,” Matt said. “And likely isn’t interested. It’s a lot to sign up for.” He hauled on a polo shirt and his jeans. “Besides, your cousin likes playing the field. Or maybe you haven’t noticed.”
“What makes you so sure?” Alex protested. “Just because you can read a pitcher doesn’t mean you can read a woman’s mind. Trust me on that one.”
Matt heard the affable rebuke in Alex’s tone. The recent camaraderie he’d developed with Scotty and Alex was the best he’d had in his life. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he didn’t feel adrift. He didn’t want to mess that up. Not over a woman.
What harm could come from joining his friends for a cause they all believed in?
He choked on a half laugh. Right. What harm could come from lying to himself?