Chapter Twenty
I must’ve known my world was about to become a whirlwind. I should’ve stayed in bed longer. In fact, I should’ve stayed right there on my Rick’s chest for as long as I could.
Suddenly, I find myself living the life of a professional baseball player. Well, that runs a travel business, too. From the moment I step foot out of the house on Sunday morning, the world only seems to stop when I’m alone with Rick. If we’re home, I’m doing laundry, cleaning, baking (because I need cookies on the road), or at the game. If we’re away, I’m working, trying to find time to explore, sleeping, or at the game. Either way, my nights and some of my mornings are spent with my man. My he-used-to-be-just-a-fantasy-baseball-boyfriend that turned out to be better than I could’ve ever imagined, real life, breathing, hot and sexy, we need each other more than air, professional athlete who worships me. I’m still not sure I deserve him, us.
The Seals have been playing well. The trade rumors have been hard, especially since the team kept Stray up a week longer than they needed to cover Seno. But, he didn’t talk about it and we made it through the trade deadline without getting traded. In fact, the Seals have made it clear they intend to offer him a long-term contract, but that’s something that’ll get handled in the off-season.
I’ve made a point of making Rick get out to see the places we travel to for away games, even if it’s only one thing and not always the tourist spot associated with the location.
In Seattle, we had a late night dinner at the top of the Space Needle. That’s over 600 feet up in an elevator. I know, totally touristy, but the elevator sealed the deal and it had to happen. It was pitch black out and the lights across the city shone with a haze from the marine layer. On our free morning we explored Pike’s Place Market, enjoying breakfast together with a beautiful view of the Puget Sound. Seattle’s elevator action was unparalleled. We had a late night reservation and I made sure we’d have the elevator to ourselves for the ride up. We lost the series 2-1, but they didn’t sweep us and Rick was a double hitting machine with two in each game. Unfortunately, none of his teammates were able to bring him around to score even once.
Chicago was crazy! We were on a pizza-testing mission. Every day we tried pizza from a different place, including Chicago style—which we agreed was good, but not what we want from pizza. Pizza shouldn’t require a fork, there should be no cornmeal and the toppings are called toppings because they belong on top. The stadium there is in the middle of a neighborhood with no parking. It was interesting to see everybody come out of the woodwork, watch from their rooftops and fill the old stadium, maintaining traditions. We won the series, taking two of the three games. Cross was on point for the whole series, hitting two home runs and making a diving catch that had the internet world photoshopping a cape on his back like a superhero. Rick was a single shy of a cycle in game three, but we all agree that we’d much rather have the two homers he hit that pushed three of his teammates across home plate to score.
LA was hard. First, we got swept. Second, it resurrected bad memories. I could see and feel Rick watching me, almost waiting for me to leave him there. He took me back to the Hawaiian Themed restaurant in Malibu, this time he insisted we start with dessert. We spent all of our time at the hotel, and when I say he needed me, I mean I required help to stand at one point and nearly missed a game due to soreness. It was because we were in LA. Every insecurity we have was right there in front of us, taunting us, and we didn’t say a word about it. There weren’t many words between us at all, LA was more about not having anything between us. I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt how much he loves me like when we were in LA. I hate to say it, but Rick was distracted and it was reflected in his game. He didn’t call the games with the same confident positivity. The whole team combined only got six hits total over the three games, scoring only once.
San Francisco was a fun trip. Rick got me a ticket in the friends and family section, so I was sitting with the wives. He didn’t want me to be alone in the stands and he didn’t want to worry about the Sissy’s pulling crap like they did the last time they were in San Diego. The truth is, he didn’t want Adam to know I was there. He was hiding me in the crowd. I understood, and knew he still thought about Adam touching me. He hates him, luckily he wasn’t in the lineup. I don’t know if he got sent back to the minors, or if he’s still on the DL and it doesn’t matter either way. He’s not in the stadium and that’s a good thing. The players’ wives were mostly welcoming. I cheered louder and made sure Rick could hear me. I don’t understand the friends and family box. They clap and occasionally call out, but there isn’t much excitement or cheering really. I felt slightly judged for my decibel level, but continued anyway. I haven’t heard any comments from their dugout and Rick keeps looking for me behind home plate even though he knows I’m not there. It’s a habit at this point. We wandered the wharf one morning, checking out the sea life and taking in the scenery. I managed to find a chocolate shop where I bought my weight in high
