she says over her tears. “Thank you for showing me that it still exists.”
I don’t miss the fact that it’s the first time she’s said it, but I also don’t make a big deal out of it in fear I’ll start crying. Swallowing over the lump rising in my throat, I press my lips to hers. “I love you too. I’ll call you guys every night.”
“We’ll be looking forward to it.”
I let go of her and kneel down to Tatum. “I have to go, Loretta.”
Her teary eyes find mine. “Why?”
“I gotta go play baseball. I’ll see you again.” I want to promise, but I don’t, because I know I can’t.
Tatum’s eyes drop to my hands holding hers and then lift to mine again. “I’m sad without you.”
“I’ll be sad without you too.” Reaching inside my bag, I dig out her present. Not the snowman I got her. I left that in there after the Disney incident. The Jelly Belly container. “But I got you these to remember me. Every time you miss me, eat one.”
Her eyes widen at the size of the container. It’s practically as big as her.
“Cason…” Sydney sighs. “She’s going to get cavities.”
I smile up at her and stand. “She’ll be fine.”
Tatum drops the container to the ground and wraps her arms around my legs. “Don’t go, Boy. Please!”
That’s the moment tears burn my eyes. I lift her up into my arms. “I’ll be back. I won’t be gone long.” Again, I don’t promise, because that’s not fair to her. My dad never promised me anything, and in return, I appreciated it. I was never let down that way.
Tatum’s chin shakes and I know this girl might not be my blood, but she’s my girl.
I glance up at Sydney and she averts her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Why am I doing this? Does baseball really matter that much?
I think back to what my dad taught me. Loyalty. Accountability. I signed a contract and I wouldn’t go back on it now.
But fuck, this hurts. My chest literally feels like it’s going to burst in two at the idea of leaving them.
Fearing a complete breakdown in the middle of the airport, I leave after kissing Sydney probably too inappropriately in front of the kid. She cries against my neck and I hold the back of her head. “I’ll see you soon,” I tell her, my words shaking.
With a final hug from Tatum, I pull away from them, the desolation in my heart hurting worse than I would have ever thought. I’ve known these two a few months, yet it feels like a lifetime of memories with them and a bond time can’t destroy.
An inning in which a pitcher faces only three batters, none of whom successfully reach base. Also called a “three up, three down” inning.
CASON
2 MONTHS LATER
Two months into playing in the minors, it’s August, I’m playing for the Salt Lake Bees, and I’m miserable without them. Absolutely fucking miserable. I hate Salt Lake City, and I don’t want to be here any longer. I hate living in a house with five guys, and get this… they ate my fucking jelly beans.
Yeah. I know. Bullshit, right?
Constant motion. It’s what gets me through the days. I make a lot of appearances on the mound and pitch a no-hitter even. Career-wise, it’s amazing. I’m the most talked-about player in the minors.
Emotionally, I’m a wreck. I miss my girls. I facetime Tatum every night. I’ve seen her three times. They came to visit. She’s getting bigger every day and said my name right for the first time. I’m no longer Boy. I’m Case. I nearly cried. I want her to go back to calling me Boy.
After a series win in El Paso, I get called up to play in the majors to relieve a pitcher on the DL. I call Sydney the second I’m out of the clubhouse and heading to the airport.
At first, it’s like any other call after a game. She watches every single one of them. “Ten strikeouts, not bad.”
I sigh into the receiver. “You know what’s even better?”
She laughs. “Talking to me, of course.”
“Well, that, but I have some news for you.”
“That you’re coming home?”
I love that she refers to her house as home, but still, I can’t wipe the fucking smile off my face. “I’m actually heading to the airport.”
“Seriously? Are you coming home? I need to shave my legs if you are.”
“I’m actually heading to Anaheim….” I let my voice trail off.