Dirty Curve

His mother’s eyes fall to the tabletop and it’s only moments later that the sound of the front door reaches us.

“I bet he took her out to see the chickens.” His dad’s grin is troubled as he rises to his feet. “I’ll go keep him company.”

His mom stands and begins carrying the dishes over to the counter, so I push myself up to help.

She’s quiet for several minutes, and I’m more than happy to follow in her footsteps, so I work beside her in silence.

Once everything is put away, Olivia grabs a tray of cinnamon crisps and I follow her into the living room.

“You know my husband coached him when he was young. Well, up until Tobias was too stubborn to listen to a word his dad had to say.” Her lips twitch, but she quickly shakes off the sentiment. “Come high school, he was three times the trouble Talon was. So hardheaded and he couldn’t care less about the things that didn’t interest him. Fight after fight, little to no effort where effort was due. If it wasn’t baseball, it wasn’t even a thought.”

I force a tight-lipped smile, uncrossing and crossing my legs as anxiousness works up my throat.

“Oh, I forget who I’m talking to.” She shakes her head, breaking off a corner of a treat. “You’re his tutor, right?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak in this moment.

“Then you know firsthand what I mean.”

My legs begin to bounce and I look away, but my head is shaking before I can stop it. And then words are spilling from my mouth without permission.

“No, actually.” My voice is quiet, but it’s heard.

Shocked, she looks up from her cup. “I beg your pardon?”

I’ve already spoken, so I can’t pull it back now. I do all I can, offer a tight smile and continue.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean.”

Her eyes narrow the slightest bit, and she sits back in her chair.

“Tobias struggles with school, sure, but not in every class and never to the point of failure. He works really hard to sustain his GPA and if it starts to slip, he does what he needs to do to get it back up.”

“Yes, honey, to sustain his GPA.” She nods. “So, he can remain on that godforsaken team, not to set up his future.”

“Baseball is his future.”

“Baseball is a game, a pastime, not a life.” She pushes to the edge of her seat, a hint of insult in her tone.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cruz, but you’re wrong.”

q

Tobias

Stepping through the back door, I find the kitchen table is now empty.

They must have settled into the living room.

Patting Bailey’s back, we head their way, but then my mom’s voice travels through the baby monitor that didn’t get turned off, and I pause where I stand as Meyer says, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean.”

I swallow, bouncing slightly when Bailey begins to wiggle, wondering what she means by that, but I don’t have to wonder long.

“Tobias struggles with school, yes,” she tells her. “But not in every class and not to the point of failure. He works really hard and he sustains his GPA and if it starts to slip, he does what he needs to do to get it back up.”

My lips twitch.

“Yes, honey, to sustain his GPA.” My mom pretty much mocks. “So he can remain on that godforsaken team, not to set up his future.”

“Baseball is his future.” Meyer responds instantly.

“Baseball is a game, a pastime, not a life.”

A sharp sting spears my chest.

Damn, Mom.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cruz, but you’re wrong,” Meyer tells her, and my muscles grow warm.

“My son refuses to look at the future as a man should. He had a role model in his father and then in Talon. His brother is going to be a doctor, for Christ’s sake. That’s something to celebrate.”

I shake my head, pushing through the door, but a hand on my shoulder halts me, and I look to find my dad standing there.

“Tobias.” My dad’s smile is one of regret, silently asking me not to hold it against her, but before he can say another word, Meyer does.

“Can you not see that Tobias is what legends are made of?” Meyer eases with the softest of tones, and I subconsciously lean closer to the door. “He’s the definition of hard work and determination. He pushes, not only his mind, but his body beyond natural limits, nearly to its breaking point sometimes, and he does this with a smile because he loves it. He’s passionate about his abilities. What he’s doing for the sport today will be remembered for years to come, and that will only double when he moves up. And he will move up.”

My pulse kicks, and I swallow past the lump in my throat.

“Mrs. Cruz, Tobias is expected to go first round in this year’s draft, and in case you don’t fully understand what that means, please let me tell you—”