The Sweetest Game (The Perfect Game 3)

Shaking my head in amazement, I glanced around the room at some of the various jars proudly displayed, each jar filled to be brim with quarters, and representing different times in our lives. The original jar he gave me in college sat in our bedroom, untouched.

I’d taken the jars of quarters from when he asked to be traded to the Mets and placed them in my new home office. They reminded me of everything he sacrificed to win me back, and looking at them made me happy. There were other various-sized jars from throughout our years in New York, when we refused to spend them. We collected every quarter that came into our possession. And now we’d be starting our California collection. I knew right where this miniature mason jar would be displayed: our baby’s room.

“I think you still have a few touches left from the other quarters,” I reminded him, waving my arm in the direction of one of the jars in the living room.

“You can never be too safe. Can you, baby?” He pressed his lips against my stomach and I rubbed the top of his head, feeling more content than ever.

Happy Birthday

Jack and I finished moving into our Newport Beach house without any issues, and I found myself stunned every morning when I opened my eyes and could see the ocean from our bedroom window. The beauty floored me and I prayed I’d never get used to it or take it for granted.

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Matteo and Trina had their baby girl in November. They named her Adalynn, and I flew to New York in January to photograph them for the magazine. The pictures turned out stunning, but it didn’t hurt when all three of your subjects were gorgeous. They were set to be the featured article online, as well as in print in one of the summer issues.

Trina was thrilled to see me and my growing belly, and she couldn’t wait to give me all sorts of tips and tricks to stay comfortable and fit during the pregnancy. She was obsessed with pillows and told me I needed at least eight. Who needed eight pillows to sleep? I laughed, but she made me promise to buy more.

She also talked about maternity yoga and prenatal massages, and basically refused to acknowledge the fact that I wasn’t a freaking supermodel before the baby and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be one after. But I missed her. And I made her promise she’d come visit.

Matteo squeezed me and rubbed my belly when he saw me at the airport. He was happy to see me, but he admitted he wished that Jack could have come too. It was too close to spring training for the pitchers and catchers, so Jack stayed behind to pack and get ready. “It’s like old times,” Matteo said while driving me to their apartment, and I almost started crying. It felt amazing to be in the city, but so much had changed in such a short amount of time.

As hard as it had been to leave, I knew without a doubt that I didn’t belong there anymore. At least, not right now. Plus, I couldn’t see raising a kid in Manhattan. Being in the city as an adult felt like one thing, but raising a child in a city that busy and bustling seemed like another. I supposed when it came down to it, I was a California girl through and through. I liked the suburbs, with their front and back yards, and neighbors you actually came to know.

I walked through the sea of red-clad Angel fans, my stomach protruding like I was smuggling in a beach ball under my maternity top. Silently, I cursed Jack, wishing that I had been smart enough to time my pregnancy with an off-season due date. But then again, we hadn’t really planned it anyway.

Making my way into the players’ wives section, I smiled at my new companions and forced my growing body into the tiny green stadium seat. I looked down the aisle at Ashley, the ridiculously cute blonde wife of one of the veterans. She was the queen bee of the wives on this team, their Kymber, but minus the horrible attitude. Every team probably had their own Kymber, but I never wanted to be her. At least Ashley hadn’t treated me badly when I first arrived. I wasn’t sure if it was because Jack had already paid his dues in the organization, or if it was because we were married and I didn’t work, but I didn’t care. Whatever created less drama and stress in my everyday life was good enough for me.

“How are you feeling, Cassie?” Ashley smiled from behind her oversized sunglasses.

I rested my hands on top of my huge belly. “Like a whale,” I huffed out. This kid was heavy. My lower back hurt and my ankles were swollen. Not like I could see my ankles anymore, but I could feel them.

How come no one ever warned you that one day you’d look down for your feet and they’d be gone? One day out of the blue, my feet disappeared beneath the oversized growth in my stomach and I freaked out. No matter how hard I tried to see them, I couldn’t. It was scary to lose your feet. I decided right then and there that the next time someone I knew got pregnant, I would warn them, One day you’ll wake up and your feet will be gone. Do you need a pedicure? Are your feet dry? Who knows, because you can’t see them.

The freakiness of losing my feet was one thing, but losing the private part of me was another. That had disappeared earlier, but it was still traumatic. Jack laughed at me when I told him I had no idea what was going on down there. He promised to keep an eye on it for me. How comforting.

The sound of someone shuffling to the seat next to me stopped me from feeling sorry for myself. I turned to see a girl I didn’t recognize. The poor thing, she looked terrified.

“Hi,” she said softly, her long brown hair falling in front of her brown eyes as she directed her gaze toward the field in front of us.

“Hi. You must be new. ” I hesitated, wondering if this girl was actually the girlfriend of someone on the team, or just a weekend fling. I’d seen enough girls come and go over the years that I finally understood why the other wives tended to keep their distance, but it still didn’t explain the outright nastiness once they knew the girl belonged to one of the players. There was no acceptable reason for that kind of behavior.

She nodded. “My boyfriend just got called up from the Salt Lake City team. ”

“What position does he play?” I hoped he wasn’t a pitcher. Don’t ask me why, since I knew the team’s roster carried more pitchers than any other position on the team. I think it boiled down to my being scared for Jack. The whole thing with the Mets had scarred me. I’d learned the hard way how disposable and replaceable the players were once they no longer fit the team’s long-term goals.

“He’s a catcher,” she said, and I recognized the pride beaming in her eyes.

“How long have you guys been dating?” I asked. She looked so young. A lot younger than I knew I looked when Jack was called up.

“A few years. We’re high school sweethearts. ” A breath escaped as she glanced down at my belly. “And you? Who’s your husband?”

“Oh, I’m Cassie,” I answered, extending my hand toward hers. She grabbed it for a firm shake. “Jack Carter’s my husband. And he did this to me. ” I looked down at my monstrosity with chagrin as she giggled.

“I’m Shawna. It’s nice to meet you. ”

“Cassie? Cassie!” Ashley’s voice interrupted our conversation and I turned my sunglass-covered face toward hers.

“Yeah?”