The Sweetest Game(69)

“I’m here.”

“Are you okay? You sound upset.”

“I’m good, Kitten. I’ll see you soon.”

“When will you be home?”

“Late. I won’t wake you.”

“No, it’s okay. Wake me,” she said in a soft voice. “I mean it.”

At her words, I instantly started to harden, so I glanced around to be sure no one was looking as I adjusted my pants. Half-tempted to hop into our plane’s cockpit and fly myself back home, I paced the area of the private lounge instead. I didn’t want to be here anymore, away from her. I needed to be home.

“What’s up, Carter? You okay?” our starting catcher, Frank, asked me midstep.

I glanced at him sideways before blurting out, “I’m just tired of being gone all the time. Do you ever get like that?”

“Hell yeah, man. I hate being away from Christina and the kids. It’s hands down the worst part about being a ball player.” He downed the rest of his shot. “Well, aside from the politics and all the business bullshit that ruins this sport for us. Missing the little things like making lunches, helping with homework, science fair projects, and all their games completely sucks.”

“Right? I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams. Like I can’t live through another day missing all those firsts. Chance started kindergarten today and all I got was a picture. I missed his first day of school. It fucking kills me,” I admitted.

“You need a drink.” He waved the bartender over. “Scotch on the rocks.”

“I don’t drink scotch.”

“You do tonight,” he said flatly.

I shrugged, willing to try anything to help settle my soul.

“How many seasons is this for you, Carter?”

I knew what he was getting at. He wanted to know how close I was to the elusive tenth season. It was an unspoken thing we all reached for, that tenth season, which equaled full pension benefits. “Ten.”

“What are you going to do when it’s over?”

“I’m not sure,” I lied. I knew exactly what I’d be doing when this season ended, but I wasn’t telling my teammate before I informed my wife.

“It doesn’t get easier. Just so you know,” he said after finishing another drink. “It’s always the same thing. Our wives are sitting at home raising our kids without their fathers. The absolute worst part is when Christina needs help disciplining the boys and I’m not there. They fight her and there’s no one to help her keep them in line, you know? I feel like complete shit whenever she calls me crying.”

That thought killed me and it wasn’t even my family Frank was talking about. I wondered how he could be so calm about this. If Chance ever gave Kitten shit like that, I’d be on the first plane out to beat his ass. Or probably not. Because I’d get benched.

Fuck.

“Yet here we sit.” I waved my arm around the darkened space. “In a private airport lounge waiting to fly home, instead of working a normal job like the rest of the world so we could be home with our families.”

He smiled. “Eh. The rest of the world isn’t lucky enough to get to do this for a living. And you know damn well that if they could do this, they would. No real man would walk away from this opportunity.”

The hairs on my neck bristled as I formulated my response. “I don’t think playing baseball makes you a real man. I think taking care of your family and being there for them is what being a real man is about.”

He looked me directly in the eye. “But we are taking care of them, Carter. We’re providing a life for them that most can’t. I know we aren’t home all the time, but there are plenty of men who travel for work for a living. And trust me, their jobs are nowhere near as cool as ours.”

Frank was definitely a glass-half-full kind of guy and I was drowning in a glass-half-empty kind of night. “This isn’t the life I wanted to provide,” I said. My thoughts turned fuzzy as the scotch filled my head.

“Well, this is the hand you were dealt. A million other guys would gladly take your spot.”

His comment pissed me off, but he was right. I couldn’t have it both ways. I could either be a baseball player until I couldn’t throw anymore, or I could be home with my family. Either way, I needed to stop bitching like a little girl. I sounded like Dean.





As soon as I got home, I turned off the light over the stove that Cassie had left on for me. I punched in my security code and dropped my bag to the floor before I crept up the stairs. Peeking in on my little stud, I leaned down to give him a peck on the cheek. His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t wake up.