“Don’t be stupid, Cooper,” he says, pushing them back toward me.
“I love her. What part of that can’t you comprehend? She’s having my children.”
“It’s just one child. You can be active in his life and not have to marry her.”
I groan loudly, growing irritated with him. “You know what? I shouldn’t even tell you this, but maybe it will knock some sense into you. We’re having twins, so it’s not one child you’re asking me to abandon, but two. And you know what? I’m not going to do it. I love her, she loves me, and we’re going to get married. I’m sorry that doesn’t work out in your life plan, but this is my life and it’s what I want.”
I start to shut the door, but he stops it and slams the papers down against my chest. “Read them. They make sense and will protect you.”
Before I can crumple them up and send them soaring toward his head, he’s down the hall. I let the door slam and look down at the papers. Instead of reading them, I rip them in half and throw them in the garbage. If Ainsley wants my money, she can have it.
Chapter 36
Ainsley
I never thought my pregnancy would be public news or that anyone would care. Honestly, it never dawned on me that it would make a difference to anyone other than the few close friends we have. So when I arrived at Petco Park with Daisy and Ethan’s family and we were ushered to our seats, I never thought in a million years that I’d find myself on the Jumbotron with the title of soon-to-be Mrs. Bailey flashing around my picture.
To say I was mortified would be an understatement, but I played it cool, pretending that it wasn’t bothering me until they panned to Cooper, who was warming up. They put us side-by-side on the screen and change the caption to read “parents to be” before panning out enough to get my bulging belly. Half the crowd cheered, while a few booed. I get it; he was an eligible bachelor and women had hopes of landing him. But what stuck with me the most was Cooper’s face and the sheer joy when he looked at the screen—essentially looking directly at me. It was enough for me to know that I don’t need to be threatened by anyone else.
After last night, the encounter with his father left me questioning everything. Daisy and I spoke at length about her marriage and how she too comes from a broken family, about how Ethan was there when her grandfather passed away, even though she had pushed him out of her life. She said that some guys just get it, and we’re the lucky ones.
I do feel lucky. Not because Cooper is a professional baseball player but because of the situation we’re in. He could have easily told me to go back to Florida and to call him when the babies were born, but he didn’t. I think the road trip he went on was good for him and exactly what he needed. I tried not to add any pressure and would have accepted whatever he decided. I was in no position to demand anything from him, though it would have torn me up inside had he not chosen us.
A few wives of the other players have come up to congratulate me on the pregnancy. For the most part, they’re nice, but you get a few who toss a snide comment in every now and again. Daisy is quick on the rebuttal while I search for words that won’t seem rude. She tells me that
thick skin is important, and I shouldn’t be afraid of hurting their feelings, because they’re certainly not afraid to hurt mine.
The pomp and circumstance that goes into the All-Star Game is amazing. The vibe is infectious, and I find myself really getting into it. Since I’ve been in Boston, I haven’t done much, except sightsee with Daisy and drag Cooper to my doctor’s appointments, but I feel like I need to start going to more baseball games to support my man. Daisy says she loves it and has offered to sit with me on the visitor’s side if I’m not ready to face all the wives. She says she gets a better angle of Ethan that way but also likes to see him when he comes in and out of the dugout. It’s an offer that I’ll likely take her up on until I’m comfortable enough to be there on my own.
Quitting my job and telling Stella that I won’t be back to Florida was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, aside from losing my mom. Stella has been my best friend for most of my life and has been my rock for the past year, helping with my mother. I suggested she also move to Boston, but she quickly brushed that off, saying something about how unnatural copious amounts of snowfall is. I haven’t told her that Cooper and I plan to live in Florida during the off-season. I want to surprise her when I show up at the zoo or knock on her door.
I have spoken to a few of the zoos in the area about a possible job, but Cooper said he would like me to stay home with the babies, or he’s at least suggested that I don’t need to work if I don’t want to. But ultimately the decision is up to me. I don’t know how I’ll feel about not working in the long run, but I have to say it’s nice to have the break right now. Daisy works, but she says it’s to occupy her time, and her hours are flexible. She doesn’t work if Ethan is home because their time together is too precious to her.
We stand when the teams are announced. Each player comes out of their respective dugout and stands along the baseline. Daisy explains that the American League is the home team this year, even though we’re in a National League park, due to the fact that the National League hosted last year and will host next year. She goes on to say that it’s supposed to alternate, but it hasn’t been that way lately. I nod along, pretending to understand everything she is saying, although if I’m going to be a baseball wife, I better start brushing up on the history of the sport.
After watching a few of the players performing cartwheels in the outfield, I ask, “The guys don’t take this game seriously?”
“No, they do. They’re just having fun right now. The winner of this game determines which league will have home field advantage in the World Series. Naturally we want the American League to win because we’d have more home games and the chances of winning are better if the guys were to make it to the World Series.”
“I see.”
“No, you don’t,” she says, laughing. “It’s okay. Cooper doesn’t care if you know the game or not. He only cares that you’re in the stands supporting him.”
That thought makes me smile, and as I look over at the dugout, his head pops up. He waves at me, causing butterflies to take flight in my stomach. Either that or his kids are about to start kicking the crap out of me.
After what Daisy refers to as a one-two-three inning, our guys are up to bat. Cooper didn’t start the game, but Daisy assures me he’ll be playing in a couple of innings. Ethan is up to bat first for the American League, getting a standing ovation that is started by his father. I look at him and see nothing but pride for his son and everything he’s accomplished, while Cooper’s dad is trying to control his life. It’s crazy how night and day some parents can be.
“Let’s go, Unc,” Shea yells as loudly as she can. If Ethan hears her, he doesn’t acknowledge her.
When Ethan is called for a strike, her hands go up in the air, and she sighs. Daisy tells me that Shea is Ethan’s biggest fan and will video-chat with him before each game to tell him what he needs to do.
“And he listens?”
“Of course. Shea is the apple of his eye. If she says jump, he will until she tells him to stop.”
I look down the bleachers and see someone I don’t recognize from yesterday. “Who’s that next to Shana?” I met Ethan’s sister yesterday when we arrived at the hotel.
“Oh, that’s Mike, Shana’s husband. He’s not around much because of his job.”