The Shortstop, page 22
Of course, it’s an illusion.
In between my highs, the toxic emotions try to slink back into my life. Most of the time, they are successful, leaving me in a deep depression. Manic highs and manic lows are common, so I’ve been told…add shrink to my list of babysitters.
“Quint, we’re so proud of you.”
“Glad to see we’re finally on the same team.”
“We’re so impressed with your progress.”
Master of a great façade that ensures I’ll be left alone. My parents, on the other hand, have not left me alone, especially my mom. She harasses me every opportunity she gets. Why the fuck did I admit Annie was better off without me? I effectively planted a seed of doubt. She now thinks it’s the real reason that we are apart, and not the lie of being a heartless prick that I’ve carefully concocted. I can practically set a clock to her daily phone calls. At least on the phone I’m able to zone out as she goes on and on. Spending Christmas together will make hiding from the nagging impossible, or smoking a joint, or even avoiding reality.
For the first time in my life, I’m dreading this holiday.
When I proposed to Annie, I envisioned our first Christmas together as husband and wife. I pictured hosting Christmas dinner in our decorated house. I even planned to surprise her with a trip while my baseball schedule allowed. A tour of Italy, England, and France was part of the “Annie Weber bucket list.” Having three kids, driving up the Pacific Coast Highway in California, writing a book, and getting matching tattoos rounded out her top five. I’m sure she’s rewritten that bucket list.
For the eight hundredth time today, I wonder where she is or what she’s doing. Seeing her on TV tormented me. A cruel glimpse of all that I lost wrapped up in a sixty-second news clip. With every passing day, my prayer that she’ll find love goes unanswered…making the pain I caused her to be in vain. With every passing day, my mom’s words play on a constant loop in the corner of my mind.
“Eventually, playing ball would no longer be possible. It may have happened sooner than you wanted, but that day would eventually come when age would make playing a distant memory, just a job that you used to have. Then where will you be?”
She’s right. The career I chose is a short-lived one. If lucky, one gets fifteen, maybe twenty years tops. At least I’d have fifteen or twenty years to live my dream and not live in hell. The devil’s advocate who lives in my mind reminds me that Annie deserves to always be happy and not just when I’m happy.
My gaze flickers over to the patio doors. Snow begins to fall, making me feel even less enthusiastic for this stupid holiday to arrive. What’s the point? I don’t have a tree nor do I give a shit about any traditions. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just another day to miserably exist. My mom doesn’t agree and plans to torture me with all things Christmas. They are due to arrive tomorrow, giving me less than twenty-four hours of peace and quiet. Less than a day to get my fill, to gorge on all my vices before they invade.
I’ve had my therapy today and every one of my babysitters has already checked in. Until then, I’m free to do as I please. My morning high has worn off. Desperate for calm, even snow and frigid temperatures can’t thwart my motives. The phone rings just as I’m about to face the elements and smoke on my balcony.
“Son.”
“Hi, Dad.”
My first thought is they’re coming sooner. Bracing myself for that announcement, my father instead says, “Your mother had a heart attack.”
She’s too young. Stress caused this. My behavior caused this.
Since Thanksgiving, she’s been so angry with me. Up until then, to avoid further upsetting me, her advice came in tentative waves. My last comments obviously caused her to reach her limit with patience and understanding. Her sudden gush of vitriol was unlike her. Her anger festered and now she’s fighting for her life.
Mom’s heart attack is like a baseball bat to my head. The amount of heartache I’ve endured caused me to lose sight of what’s truly important. All I can do the entire ride down is pray. I plead with God to give me strength. I ask him to forgive me. I beg him to spare her. I can’t lose her. She can’t die while carrying so much pain…pain that I caused her.
Throughout, no matter how badly I behaved, my parents supported me. I need them to know what drove me to this point. Telling my parents the truth is only the beginning. The real person I need to be honest with is Annie. Will it change things between us? I honestly don’t know. I’ll always wonder if pity is the reason she comes back to me. That’s assuming that she does forgive me. I’d almost rather she doesn’t. By not, maybe she’ll give me closure. Either way, my dad was right. It has to be her decision. I’ve stupidly tried to control our future with anger and regret. I didn’t lose Annie. I pushed her away. Death is loss.
I almost lost my mother today. I may still lose her. If she dies thinking the worst of me, I’ll never survive it. The crushing pain in my chest that dulled over time returns in full force. My driver stares at me through the rearview mirror when my quiet sobs fill the otherwise noiseless car. His helpless expression an indicator he hasn’t a clue what to do or say to comfort me. There’s only one thing that can. Telling everyone I love and who loves me the absolute truth.
By the time I stand at the door of my mom’s room, my own heart pounds punishingly in my chest.
My mom looks so frail, so tiny in her hospital bed. My dad said they’ve stabilized her, inserting stents to open her arteries. She’s lucky to be alive. My father’s quick thinking and CPR training undoubtedly saved her life. Thank God they were home. He immediately called 911, gave her aspirin, and had her lie on her back, coaching her to continue deep breathing.
My father sits facing her, holding her hand, speaking to her in hushed tones. “Charlotte, baby, don’t ever do this to me again. I couldn’t live without you. My life means nothing without you.” He bends and places his forehead on her arm. I can tell he’s crying by the way his shoulders tremble.
Bile rises in my throat from finally seeing myself clearly. I shamed my father. He must hate the man I’ve become. My mother means everything to him, where I made it very clear that baseball was my only love. I don’t deserve for Annie to take me back. The only fitting punishment would be to lose her forever.
He must sense my presence because he wipes his eyes and turns to face me. The pain he harbors clearly shows on the lines of his face.
“Son, I’m glad you’re here. She’ll be so happy to see you when she wakes up.”
“Dad, I’m so sorry,” I say quietly from the door.
“I know. Come sit with her.” He stands, motioning for me to sit in his chair. My nerves leave me panting for breath, but the exertion required to move across the room supplies a good cover.
I stare at my mother’s pale face. “I did this to her,” I voice my thoughts.
Dad looks at me, confused. “No, you didn’t, son.”
“She’s been so distraught over me. You both have. I’m so ashamed of my behavior.”
“Your mom cared for everyone she loved and neglected herself. I asked her to have a check-up, see a doctor. She was too stubborn. This has nothing to do with you.”
“We’ll never know.” I can no longer hold back my sadness. It comes pouring out through my tears. “I’ll never know,” I repeat in a raspy whisper.
“Quint.” Emotion fills his eyes, turning them glassy as he sits and stares at me. “I won’t have you blaming yourself.”
“I caused her so much grief.” Even though he shakes his head, his silence proves he agrees. “I was so angry. I worked so hard, and when I finally landed with the Yankees, I thought it was the missing piece to a perfect life. I lost sight of what was really important. My life was already perfect. You, Mom, and Annie were what made my life perfect. Playing for the Yankees should have been the cherry on my sundae and not the sundae itself.”
My dad frustratingly swipes at the tears that spill down his face. I mimic his gesture, turning back to my mother and taking her cold hand in mine.
“As soon as Mom wakes up, I need to tell you everything.”
Chapter Thirty
Annie
“She’s stable. Blake says she’ll be ready for visitors tomorrow. It’s Christmas. She needs love surrounding her.”
“I still can’t believe it. She’s very lucky.”
Their conversation filters around me, but I’m barely paying attention. My thoughts are consumed with Quint. This will surely push him further over his self-destructive cliff. My heart breaks for him. How much can one person take?
“Annie.” My mom pulls me back to their conversation.
“Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I’m sure Charlotte will understand if you wait to see her when she gets home.”
“You don’t think I should go?”
My parents exchange a glance. “Honey, we feel that you’re finally moving on.”
I want to be angry with them, but they’re right. The possibility of running into him does terrify me. The distance between us has helped my wounds begin to slowly scab over. Seeing him will be like a knife slicing them open again. But…I can’t hide from him forever.
“Mrs. Lawson is like a second mom to me. In spite of our breakup, I’d expect him to be there if something were to happen to either of you.”
She nods, but I can tell she doesn’t agree with me.
“We’re bound to see each other sooner or later. His parents live next door.” My argument sounds brave, even to my own ears. Coming face-to-face with Quint would be the worst form of torture.
“Better later,” Mom quickly replies. Her frown softens to a warm smile when she sees my face. “I’m sorry. Sleep on it. You can decide in the morning.”
Sleep did little to settle my qualms. I dreamed of our last Christmas. It felt so real. When he leaned closer to kiss me, I could feel his lips on mine. I could hear his laugh. I haven’t dreamed about him in a while. I woke aching from head to toe.
The day drags on as I debate whether I’m strong enough to see him. I decide to run over there, see his mom, and quickly leave. Mom packs up dinner for the Lawsons, offering an explanation as she does. “No one should be subjected to hospital food, especially on Christmas. Have you decided, honey?”
“I’ll meet you guys there. I’ll probably leave sooner than later.”
“We’ll be right behind you,” Dad says as I head out the door.
The way he says it makes me know he’s not referring to their physicality. “I know,” I respond with a smile.
The ride over gives me time to mentally prepare what I’ll say, or even how I’ll react. Like ripping off a bandage, I need to get this over with.
The bouquet I hold trembles, causing the crisp cellophane wrap to fill the elevator with rustling sounds. The sound of my heart pounding in my ears almost cancels out the noise. I feel panic rising from the pit of my stomach to the back of my throat. I need to hold it together. I must hold it together.
The doors open to Charlotte’s floor. My eyes automatically sweep the hall, hoping he isn’t out there. Relief settles me slightly when all I can see are nurses, doctors, and other patients moving about. It’s a false sense of security because I’ll be seeing him within seconds anyway. I move painstakingly slowly down the hall toward her room. Before stepping in, I drag in a deep breath. I don’t have any faith in myself. I just know I’m going to lose it in front of him. I hate that I will, but based on my current state, it’s unavoidable.
After a few deep breaths do little to calm me, I step into the doorway to get this over with. The curtain around her bed is drawn, and I can hear Quint’s voice.
“Mom, I’m so sorry.”
“How could you do that to her? That lie devastated her, Quint. You made her think the worst of you, of her best friend. You destroyed that girl, and now you’re telling me it was all a lie?” Her voice cracks when sobs take over.
“She wasn’t leaving me. I needed to push her away. I couldn’t give her happiness. I no longer could promise her a happy life.”
“And making her think you slept with her best friend was your brilliant plan?”
“Charlotte! Please calm down.”
“Dad’s right. I regret telling you. I should have waited. But you scared me. I needed you to know the truth in case…”
Silence fills the air.
“In case what? In case I died?” she asks quietly. After a pause, she then says, “You’re my son. I will always love you. Nothing could ever change that. No matter how you act or what you do. There is one other person who loved you unconditionally. She would love you under any circumstance. You lacked faith in her.”
“I couldn’t force her to live with my misery.”
“I told you, son, that wasn’t your choice to make.” Mr. Lawson’s voice now fills the room. “You need to tell her.”
“She’ll never forgive me.”
“Again, that’s not for you to decide. That’s up to her.”
“Can I help you, dear?”
I jolt around at the sound of a woman’s voice.
“Um…no. Sorry.” Panic-stricken, I turn to leave just as Mr. Lawson appears from behind the curtain.
“Annie.”
Hastily, I thrust the bouquet toward the nurse and run down the hall. I can’t believe what I just heard. I can’t believe the lengths he went to in order to push me away. The hurt resurfaces full force, slamming around in my chest like a pinball. Blinded by tears, I have no idea how I manage to get from the hospital to my car without killing myself or anyone else in my path.
Merry fucking Christmas.
Once the shock wore off, once I got past the fact he completely threw our relationship away like yesterday’s trash, anger took hold like a virus attacking my internal organs. Billy called just after I got back to my apartment. He knew immediately something was wrong. He threatened to come up. I lied, claiming I was fighting the flu.
Embarrassment stopped me from being honest. What a fool I was to think I meant the world to Quint. How could I tell Billy I meant so little that he could concoct a horrific lie just to ensure I got the message? Quint’s lie affects Billy as well. It affects Daphne. The list of Quint’s victims is growing.
My doorbell ringing worsens my mood. Knowing it’s either Billy or my parents, I debate ignoring it. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone right now. Whoever it is begins to bang on the wood.
“I’m coming!” I say before yanking my door open. My heart flips at the sight of Quint standing at my door.
“Annie.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.” He stops the door from closing with the bottom of his crutch. “Please.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“I know. I have a lot to say to you. Please, just hear me out.”
“Haven’t you hurt me enough?” I start to cry, hating myself for showing him the slightest bit of emotion. He doesn’t deserve my tears.
“Please. After tonight, I won’t bother you again.”
Angrily, I swipe away my tears and stand aside to let him in. He hobbles in slowly, taking in my apartment as he does. Except for my roommate’s pictures and knickknacks, there is nothing personal to me. I stand defensively in the corner, waiting for him to take a seat. Once he does, I choose the chair farthest away.
“How long have you been here?”
“Um, let’s see. How long ago did you allegedly sleep with Daphne?”
“Annie.”
“What!” I glare at him from across the room. “How did you get here?”
“I took a cab. Your parents gave me the address.”
Fucking traitors. The same people who have been relentless in their attempts to take my mind off him.
I need to fight the urge to ask any questions. He steadily meets my gaze, further torturing me. Just as I’m about to ask him to get to the point, he says, “You wouldn’t leave me. No matter what I said, you refused to leave me.”
Emotion clogs my throat, making it difficult to reply in my normal voice. “Because I loved you.”
“Loved?” I want to lie, but I can’t. I still love him. I’ll always love him, even though he doesn’t deserve my love. At my refusal to respond, he nods. “I was afraid of that. I still need to tell you why I lied.” The anger I felt earlier resurfaces as I wait for his pathetic explanation. “I thought I needed baseball to be happy. I predicted I’d face years and years of misery. I wanted more for you, better for you. You only deserve happiness. I honestly felt I could no longer give that to you. I was wrong to push you away, Annie. I was so, so wrong. My mom’s heart attack made me realize that.”
He gauges my reaction to his words, frowning when my face remains emotionless. Inside, I’m anything but emotionless. I’ve been hoping to hear these words for months. I fear it’s too late. When I look at him, I no longer see the man I would walk through hell for. I see the man who hurt me.
“Annie, I love you. I never stopped loving you.”
“But not enough. You made it very clear that you didn’t love me enough. I wasn’t enough to make you happy, or to help you get through your hell.”
“You were enough. You’re all I ever wanted. I was so angry that I lost sight of what was most important to me. I was spiraling out of control, and while falling all I could think about was taking you with me. I couldn’t live with myself if I ruined your life. I couldn’t stop myself from ruining it. It ripped me in half, only adding to my physical pain. I honestly thought I was sparing you and doing the right thing. You need to believe me,” he pleads. His intense stare is too much. I look away, wanting to hide from the pain I see in his eyes. If I stare long enough, that pain will break me. When I refuse to look at him, he repeats my name. “Annie.” Petulantly, I turn to meet his eyes. Tears swell in his eyes, and he lets them fall. “Do you still love me?”
“I think you should go.”
“Annie.”
“Please, I need you to leave.”
