Perfect Catch(35)

Instead she noticed a crack in the stucco.

Her phone buzzed and she ignored it, assuming she was imagining things still.

Then it buzzed again. And again.

Not a text alert, but the sound of someone calling.

Alice fumbled to grab the phone where it had gotten tangled up in her bedding and almost threw it off the mattress, but she answered before it went to voicemail, though she missed the caller ID.

“Hello?”

Her voice must have sounded exhausted because the caller began with, “Oh shit, it’s really late there, isn’t it?”

Alice pulled the phone back to look at the ID screen, wanting to confirm her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her.

Alex.

He never called. It was always a quick text here or there, and usually only if she sent him something first. A phone call was…well, it was outside the norm for them.

“Are you okay?” she asked immediately.

“Huh? The mask thing, you mean?”

“I mean, you’re calling me at two in the morning. Are you okay?”

“Oh.” Like he hadn’t considered where her mind would go when someone phoned her at this hour. Had he never met a mother before? “Yeah…I guess so?” He phrased it like a question, as though he wasn’t sure if he was okay or not.

“What’s wrong?” From the tone of his voice, Alice could tell he was off somehow, but she couldn’t put her finger on why exactly. He sounded distant and distracted. She might not be an expert on his phone voice, but it didn’t seem right.

Her annoyance was gone, and the pit it left behind was filled with the kind of worry only a mom could muster up at such short notice. At some point she’d sat upright in bed and had begun scanning the room for pants, like she might be thrown into action at any moment.

“Alex?” His lack of response made her wonder if he was still there.

“I’m…well, I’m coming back.”

Her heart seized, at risk of stopping altogether when the words finally processed. “Coming back…here?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” She was torn between wanting him to say it was for her, and being terrified he might. What kind of idiot would abandon their career to make things work on a long-shot relationship?

Especially when she’d told him she didn’t want to try.

“I shouldn’t have called you this late, I’m sorry.”

“No, I was awake. Tell me what’s going on.” Alice nestled back into her pillows, trying to calm down. Alex was fine, physically anyway, so she had no immediate cause for concern. Her head bumped against the wooden headboard.

“Got called into the manager’s office today after the game. He’s not too impressed with my results so far this season.”

She bit her lip. She hadn’t commented on his average up to that point out of politeness, but it didn’t take a baseball expert to know he wasn’t doing well.

“It’s still early, though,” she offered, not refuting his unfortunate stats but hoping she might make him feel better regardless. She’d learned this particular skill with Olivia. No matter how perfect she thought her daughter was, the kid wasn’t going to be good at everything. In Liv’s case her shortcomings were due to her awkward stature, making her an impossible dancer. But still, Alice told her how well she’d done and continued to pay for dance lessons. That was just what she did.

With Alex, she wouldn’t tell him he was stinking it up because it wouldn’t help him to hear negative feedback. And he hadn’t called her for brutal honesty; he’d called her for…for what? Comfort? She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“They’re sending me back to Lakeland.”

That stood to reason. Shuffling a player back to the minors was standard when they were struggling. The logic being a high-level player would thrive among the less-skilled upstarts. It was an effort in rebuilding confidence as much as skill.

But Alice lost her train of thought quickly when she realized what it really meant. Alex was coming back. Sure, he’d said as much twice already in their conversation, but it was only now beginning to click.

“You’re coming back.”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?” Toying with the corner of her comforter, she awaited his response with a held breath. There was no way it would be a permanent reassignment. That would be the kiss of death for a player in Alex’s position. And as much as guys would say they played for the love of the game, none of them wanted to be stranded in the minors for the rest of their careers.

Who would want the constant reminder of what they’d once had? It was just cruel.

“Sounds like two weeks. To start.”