The Sweetest Game(56)

I stuck my tongue out at her and she did the same. “You,” I pointed at her, “are not ever allowed to say that to anyone. Ever. You’re the most ridiculous couple I’ve ever met.”

“You gonna let her talk to us like that, Melis?” Dean taunted.

Melissa narrowed her eyes playfully. “You want me to hit a pregnant chick?” She made a fist and punched her other hand with it.

Jack stepped into the space separating us. “I will hurt you, Fun-Size. No one messes with my baby mama.”

“Oh my gosh, how long have you been waiting to use that line?” I doubled over laughing, along with everyone else.

“Weeks,” he admitted with a dimpled smile before stepping between my legs.

I love those dimples.

I hope our baby has those dimples.

“I almost forgot, I have something for you.” Jack perked up and disappeared into the garage. I heard one of the car doors open and close, then Jack walked back into the kitchen.

He tossed a small package at me and I caught it with both hands. “What in the world?”

“Just open it.”

I peeled back the wrapping paper to reveal a small cardboard box. When I opened the top and looked inside, I gasped with surprise, then pulled out a miniature mason jar filled with quarters.

Jack beamed at me. “Those are for all the belly touches. I’m going to be touching your belly a lot. I figured I oughta pay up.”

Shaking my head in amazement, I glanced around the room at some of the various jars proudly displayed, each jar filled to be brim with quarters, and representing different times in our lives. The original jar he gave me in college sat in our bedroom, untouched.

I’d taken the jars of quarters from when he asked to be traded to the Mets and placed them in my new home office. They reminded me of everything he sacrificed to win me back, and looking at them made me happy. There were other various-sized jars from throughout our years in New York, when we refused to spend them. We collected every quarter that came into our possession. And now we’d be starting our California collection. I knew right where this miniature mason jar would be displayed: our baby’s room.

“I think you still have a few touches left from the other quarters,” I reminded him, waving my arm in the direction of one of the jars in the living room.

“You can never be too safe. Can you, baby?” He pressed his lips against my stomach and I rubbed the top of his head, feeling more content than ever.





Jack and I finished moving into our Newport Beach house without any issues, and I found myself stunned every morning when I opened my eyes and could see the ocean from our bedroom window. The beauty floored me and I prayed I’d never get used to it or take it for granted.

Matteo and Trina had their baby girl in November. They named her Adalynn, and I flew to New York in January to photograph them for the magazine. The pictures turned out stunning, but it didn’t hurt when all three of your subjects were gorgeous. They were set to be the featured article online, as well as in print in one of the summer issues.

Trina was thrilled to see me and my growing belly, and she couldn’t wait to give me all sorts of tips and tricks to stay comfortable and fit during the pregnancy. She was obsessed with pillows and told me I needed at least eight. Who needed eight pillows to sleep? I laughed, but she made me promise to buy more.

She also talked about maternity yoga and prenatal massages, and basically refused to acknowledge the fact that I wasn’t a freaking supermodel before the baby and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be one after. But I missed her. And I made her promise she’d come visit.

Matteo squeezed me and rubbed my belly when he saw me at the airport. He was happy to see me, but he admitted he wished that Jack could have come too. It was too close to spring training for the pitchers and catchers, so Jack stayed behind to pack and get ready. “It’s like old times,” Matteo said while driving me to their apartment, and I almost started crying. It felt amazing to be in the city, but so much had changed in such a short amount of time.

As hard as it had been to leave, I knew without a doubt that I didn’t belong there anymore. At least, not right now. Plus, I couldn’t see raising a kid in Manhattan. Being in the city as an adult felt like one thing, but raising a child in a city that busy and bustling seemed like another. I supposed when it came down to it, I was a California girl through and through. I liked the suburbs, with their front and back yards, and neighbors you actually came to know.





I walked through the sea of red-clad Angel fans, my stomach protruding like I was smuggling in a beach ball under my maternity top. Silently, I cursed Jack, wishing that I had been smart enough to time my pregnancy with an off-season due date. But then again, we hadn’t really planned it anyway.