Third Base (The Boys of Summer 1)

Sarah lets me talk all night while she holds my hand, comforting me when by all accounts she should be angry that I’ve chosen another woman over her.

“Are you ready?”

Sarah stands in the doorway to my bathroom, watching me fumble with my tie. She’s dressed in a knee-length black dress while I’m in a black suit with red dress shirt. Sarah used her connections at the hospital to find out which funeral home is in charge of John’s service, called them and found out the funeral details. I know I could’ve called Daisy to ask her, but my gut told me she wouldn’t answer.

“Almost.” I stare at myself in the mirror as I prepare for what is likely to be the most awkward event of my life. The Renegades sent a large spray of flowers for the service, as well as a donation to help fund Daisy’s last days of school. I didn’t ask for that, but am glad it happened. I also paid for next year’s tickets so Daisy doesn’t lose them. I don’t know if she’ll ever attend another game, but her seats will be there waiting for her regardless.

Sarah is still here, but leaving in two days to head back to Seattle and school. I’m going to miss having her around. Everything with her is easy and I wish things could be this way all the time. After our long talk the other night, I’m no clearer than I was before she got here. The only thing I can positively say is that Daisy and I happened at the wrong time in both of our lives.

“The car’s here,” Sarah says, breaking my reverie. I follow her out, opening the front door for her, and then the car door once we reach it. A few of the other guys will be there today, as well as the driver who was gracious enough to pick John up for the games. The service is a simple graveside ceremony according to the funeral director Sarah spoke with.

I look out of the black tinted windows, feeling like a piece of me is missing. At this point, I’m not sure how many pieces are left for Daisy to take. Over the past few days, things have been sort of a blur. I go to work, play the game and come home to find Sarah studying in my living room. We have a late dinner, talk and go to bed.

During each game, I’m looking behind the visitor dugout for Daisy, figuring she’d try to hold onto the recent memories of being here with her grandfather, but her seats remain empty. During one game, I freaked out when someone seat hopped and took hers. I had the usher remove them and send them back to their nosebleeds. I didn’t think it was right and clearly over stepped my position with the team, but I don’t care.

“We’re here,” Sarah says as she grabs my hand. I quickly let go, not wanting Daisy to see us holding hands. It means something different to me, but it won’t to Daisy. It doesn’t matter that we’re not together. She doesn’t need to think I’ve moved on. I haven’t and I don’t want to.

Sarah grabs the crook of my arm as we walk up the steep hill. My teammates, Kidd, Branch and Cross all follow behind me, along with Ryan Stone and his wife, Hadley Carter. I nod to Ryan, silently thanking him for attending. He didn’t know John and didn’t need to take time out of his day, or Hadley’s busy schedule, but he’s here to honor a life-long fan. That speaks volumes for our organization.

The Boston Renegades sit two rows behind Daisy. She doesn’t turn to see who is arriving; she keeps her focus on the casket in front of her. To the left stands the spray of flowers that the team sent with the words #1 Fan on the sash.

A few more people arrive, sitting in front of us and blocking my view of Daisy. When the minister arrives, he rests his hand on Daisy’s shoulder, making me wonder if this is the same man that presided over her parents and grandmother’s funerals when they passed. Do you keep someone like this in your contacts just in case?

The minister starts with words of wisdom and love, telling us that love is about forgiveness. Sarah pinches me, reminding me that she said the same thing the other night. I’d like to stand up and remind everyone it’s easy to say the word forgiveness but much harder to actually commit the act when something causes you so much pain. I want to go back to the day we met and have her tell me that she’s the damn blogger and let me make a decision whether or not to see her based off that. It’s easy to say now that I would because I’m in love with her, but that night at the burger place, maybe not.

I can honestly say, though, that she fascinated me enough the night I met her that I would’ve tried to find out what makes her tick. She’s had me on a string from the first time I saw her.

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The minister asks if anyone would like to speak. I clear my throat and stand. As I walk by Daisy, I catch the slight intake of breath come from her. I offer her a smile, only to have her turn around and look behind her. When she faces forward, tears are streaming down her face - whether they’re fresh or not, I can’t tell. I should be sitting by her side through all of this. All she had to do was ask.

“I had the privilege of meeting John a few months ago and I’m sad to say I haven’t known him long enough. He was a true fan, not only of the game of baseball, but of my personal game. He had the ability to turn what I would consider a fair game into a good game, highlighting the hidden stats of my teammates and myself.

“My short time with John will not be for naught. I’ll take with me, and cherish, everything he taught me about life, love and baseball.”

I hesitate for a moment, seeking Daisy’s request to sit by her, but she still doesn’t make eye contact with me. Her head is down and her fingers fiddle with the tissue in her hands. When I sit down, Sarah reaches for my hand and I let her take it. I have nothing to lose at this point.

A few other people get up and speak, most of them older. They recount stories from Daisy’s childhood with her parents and her grandmother, and promise to be there for her. I want to stand up and ask who is going to open their house to her because she has to move now. Where does she have to go?

When the service is over and everyone is leaving, I remain seated. “I’ll meet you in the car,” I tell Sarah who kisses me on my cheek before she leaves, handing me the ball that I put in her purse earlier. I don’t want to cause any more pain for Daisy, but I have something for John.

I go to this casket and set the signed ball from the current roster on top of his casket. I don’t know if it’ll make it inside, but I hope so.

“It didn’t take you long to move on.”

Her voice catches me off guard. I breathe in deeply and remind myself that she’s hurting and it’s easy to assume that Sarah and I are together. I decide its best that I sit down next to her so she can hear me clearly without tuning me out.

“That’s Sarah, my ex. You know about her because I told you everything about our relationship. When you didn’t show up in Cincinnati my mom knew something was up and called her. She was sitting on my steps when I came back from your apartment.”

“Oh yes, she’s your road trip hook-up.”

“That’s not fair, Daisy. I know you’re hurting right now, but Sarah isn’t to blame and neither am I.”

“You went to her apartment in Seattle?” Her broken voice tears me up on the inside. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and turn my head so I’m looking at her.

“I don’t know why you’re bringing this up now, but yes, I did. You and I had stopped talking. I was pissed.”

“Did you sleep with her?”