Pitch Please (There's No Crying in Baseball 1)

Tears burned my eyes.

The devastation in George’s voice was killing me.

I wanted to offer him words, but he knew, just as well as I did, that they would be empty.

I didn’t know if his kid would be alright. I didn’t know if George was ever going to see him again.

So again, I kept silent.

If anything, I could give him the knowledge that I was present. I was there for him if and when he needed me.

My phone started to vibrate against my leg, interrupting my thoughts as I drove.

My phone had rung no less than fifteen times since I’d gotten into the car with George.

I let it go to voicemail.

Again.

Three of the calls I knew were Sway. Two of them I knew were my mom.

Sway and I had played with my phone a couple of nights ago and made everyone I knew that called me specific vibrations that would alert me as to who was calling without looking at the display.

“This is the exit,” George pointed, no inflection at all in his voice.

I signaled and took the exit, then started to wind my way through the crazy amount of downtown Dallas traffic.

I didn’t drop him off at the front like most would.

I parked, knowing he’d scare the staff if he went in there with the way he was acting.

The moment I parked and got out, I got in front of George and turned, halting him in his progression to the door.

“Stop.”

George was three inches taller than me, and although it didn’t seem like much on paper, when you were looking up into the eyes of a six-foot-six man who was bound and determined to bowl you over, it was quite intimidating.

“Look at me.” I ordered.

George looked at me, his hands clenched into fists.

“Take a deep breath.”

He took a deep breath.

“Right now, your son and your ex-wife don’t need to see the crazy,” I ordered. “Your boy needs his dad, and your ex-wife needs her baby’s father. Don’t go in there flipping out on the first person you see, okay?”

I knew George. I’d spent the last six years of my life playing with him.

He didn’t get the name ‘Furious George’ for no reason.

I also knew, for a fact, that he was still very much in love with his ex-wife, and although I didn’t know the circumstances of their parting, I knew they both still spent quite a bit of time together. She came to his games. He went to her softball games, although they weren’t professional ball games.

They literally spent time together like husband and wife, minus the actual husband and wife designation.

“Thank you,” he said, and without another word, he walked around me and started into the hospital.

I made it to the receptionist first, making sure that George wouldn’t get a chance to bark at anyone if I could help it.

“Micah Hoffman,” I said to the man. “He was brought in by air-med about two hours ago by my count.”

The man’s face widened as he looked at me and George.

I knew what was coming, and I shook my head minutely at the man.

This wasn’t the time to be recognized, and luckily the man caught on and turned back to the computer.

“He’s in surgery. That’s on floor two. Use the bank of elevators right there, press number two, and when the doors open, turn to the right and the waiting room will be directly on your left,” he instructed.

I nodded.

“Thank you.”

We followed the man’s directions, and the moment we showed in the waiting room, George’s wife—ex-wife—barreled toward him.

“Georgie!” she wailed, throwing herself at him.

George’s arms surrounded her, pulling her in so closely that there was no space at all between them.

They both buried their faces into each other’s necks and started to cry.

I backed away to give the two of them privacy, stopping at the end of the hall where there were no rooms or doors.

Once I was far enough away, I pulled out my phone, ignored the missed calls, and immediately called Gentry.

“I got him here,” I said the moment he picked up.

“Good,” Gentry exhaled. “Any news?”

“No.” I shook my head. “When we got here the guy at the front desk said he was in surgery.”

Gentry exhaled. “It’s awful.”

It was.

“I’ve had calls from Sway and your mom. You might want to call them back,” Gentry continued. “They didn’t tell me why they called, but they both know that you had to take George to Dallas.”

I nodded. “Thanks. I’ll call them back now.”

The moment we hung up, I scrolled to Sway’s name and tapped it.

It rang twice before she answered.

“Is he okay?” she begged the moment she answered.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “He’s still in surgery.”

She let out a shaky breath.

“Fuck,” she cleared her throat. “Your mom called me.”

“Yeah?” I asked in confusion. “Why?”

I could feel her hesitation, and my stomach started to sour.