I put Bailey in the best outfit I brought along, a red and blue striped dress Bianca bought her for the Fourth of July, but she’s grown so much in the past few weeks, it already fits her perfectly. The little jean shorts have white stars stamped along the butt and her sandals are sparkly silver. As I’m finishing the final touch, gliding a red bow over her head, the phone in the room rings.
With a frown, I pick up.
“Hello, miss, I have a guest at the front desk asking for you.”
Slowly lowering onto the edge of the bed, I ask, “Who is it?”
“It’s a woman, miss, but she doesn’t seem to wish to give her name.”
I nod. “I’ll be right there, thank you.”
What the heck?
Grabbing my phone, I push it into my back pocket and check my hair in the mirror.
I left it down for the first time in what must be months. I didn’t think to bring a curling iron, but I used my brush and the hotel blow dryer to straighten it. It looks nice. Pretty actually.
That and the blush and mascara I put on, again for the first time in forever, and I can’t help but smile at my reflection.
I’m still heavier than I’m comfortable with, but Bailey’s only five months old and I hear that’s normal. Still, I pull my sweater over my head to hide the extra weight and lift Bay into my arms, heading down to the lobby.
As I walk in, I look around, but I don’t spot anyone, and then my name is called.
I spin, my eyes widening when they land on a pair of blue ones.
“Hi, Meyer.”
“Mrs. Cruz … hi.” I slip my fingers into Bailey’s hand. “Tobias isn’t here.”
“I came to see you.”
My face falls. “Oh … um, is everything okay?”
She nods, reaching out to brush her fingers along Bailey’s arm. “Yeah, but I’d like to chat if you have time? Can I buy you a coffee, maybe? I saw they had a small café when I walked in …”
I must hesitate because she holds her palms up. “Please, just for a few minutes.”
“Yeah, okay.” I offer a smile, falling in line beside her as we walk to the café.
“She looks adorable,” she says, holding the door open for the two of us to slip through. “How old is she?”
“Almost six months.”
Mrs. Cruz smiles, lowering into one of the bistro seats near the fountain’s edge. “And how long have you known my son?”
My stomach flips. “Mrs. Cruz.”
“It’s just a question, honey, I’m sorry.” She sighs. “I’m all over the place. Please, sit down.”
Hesitantly, I take the seat across from her, waiting for her to be the one to ask more questions so I don’t have to.
She doesn’t make me wait long. “Is she trying to crawl?”
“She scoots herself backward, but she hasn’t figured out the whole knees forward thing yet.”
She laughs, making a wide smiley face at Bay and opening and closing her fingers in a wave.
Bailey kicks her feet, jumping up and down on my thigh as she reaches toward her.
“May I?” Her voice is quiet, a hint of desperation woven in, and I know she not only wants to hold Bay. She needs to.
There’s just something about an infant, they have the ability to soothe aches and erase pain with a simple smile or touch, so I nod, passing her off and the grin that takes over her face reminds me so much of the ones I’ve witnessed on her son.
“Tobias was such a happy baby,” she says after a moment. “He learned so much faster than Talon did, skipped over crawling altogether, and started taking steps while holding on to things at seven months old. He talked early, walked early, he did everything early.” She remembers. “It’s like he was competing with his brother from day one, and every single time, he fell a little short. Talon was older, so he was taller faster, shaved first, had a girlfriend first. Normal life stuff, you know? And then his freshman year of high school, Tobias hit a growth spurt. Suddenly he was taller, faster, had more girlfriends.” She laughs lightly, but it’s hollow.
“He thought he had finally done it, and then Talon was advanced into the AP program. It was like the cycle started all over. Tobias tried to beat him. He asked to go to study hall and stayed late with his teachers. He watched documentaries and tried those listening books the libraries used to have …”
“He did?” I swallow. The sorrow that’s taken over her tone makes it hard to listen. He tried to be a better student and didn’t understand why he couldn’t grasp things the way others could. It’s so hard to find the kind of learning that works for you. That must have made him feel less capable when I know that to be false.
“Oh, yeah.” She sighs. “He did.”
“Mrs. Cruz—”
Her sad smile comes up to mine. “Please, call me Olivia.”
Nodding, I continue, “Olivia, those are good things.”
“They are, but I never really stopped to wonder why he did it, and now I understand.” Her eyes mist over, but she looks back to Bay, seeking that warmth, and Bailey doesn’t disappoint.
Her little palms come up, gently tapping at Olivia’s face, pulling a tender laugh from the woman.
“Tobias was working for something he thought he’d find if he achieved what his brother had.” Her blue eyes curve my way. “Recognition.”
Unsure of what to say, I simply sit and listen for more.
“We’d have barbecues and neighbors, or my husband’s coworkers would come over, and we’d tell them how Talon’s English essay won an award, but we never thought to mention how that same month, Tobias tried out for the freshman baseball team, and how thirty minutes into the very first day of tryouts, the varsity coach came over to watch him, offering him a spot on his roster that very same day.”
A reminiscent smile covers her lips. “He was so excited, kept saying how he was the only freshman on the team and there hadn’t been anyone his age on the varsity team in years. He had the biggest smile, so excited to tell us all about it, and you know what I did?” Her nostrils flare as she fights her emotions, and I’m almost nervous for her to share.
She swallows, her gaze falling to her lap in shame. “I told him to keep his voice down, that Talon was busy writing his admissions essay in the other room and couldn’t be disturbed. I-I gave him a twenty-dollar bill and told him to go for Mangonada’s, but not to spoil his dinner.” Her tears come then, but she quickly looks to the sky to blink them away. “I didn’t even say, ‘here, go celebrate, I’m proud, son.’ I just pushed him out the door and went and peeked in on Talon.”
My chest aches for the boy she’s describing, not unlike the man I’ve come to know.
I judged him wrong at first. It’s not that he didn’t care about school, because he does. He just struggles no matter the approach he takes and it seems he’s tried many. When he felt as if he failed, he pushed his main focus into his passion, something he knew he was great at.
But does it really matter?
If he’s driven to do well in school in order to do what he loves on the field, is it even important to remember why he works hard to keep his grades up? He does keep them up and that’s what counts. He’s not failing. He’s not on the verge of dropping out.
He does what he has to do. Period.
I assumed he didn’t care, but now I know that’s false. It’s like he shared with me yesterday. Avix took his hotshot title and did what they could to spin him into a hot mess. He simply accepted what he couldn’t change, that the world would see him how they wished and no achievement of his would change that.
It didn’t at home, with the two people who loved him most in the world, so why would it here, on a campus with thousands upon thousands of strangers?
Honestly, it’s almost as if he doesn’t take himself seriously at times, like he laughs when others do because that’s his role as placed upon him by outsiders who don’t really know him.
He is Tobias Cruz, ‘The Playboy Pitcher.’ An all-star athlete with the dirtiest curve in the game, future MLB gold and a hall of fame legend.
He is baseball.
God, he is so much more.
Olivia clears her throat, taking a moment to tickle Bailey’s belly while I nod and thank the waitress as she fills two mugs with hot coffee.
Adding a load of creamer, I sit back in my chair, enjoying the warm beverage before Bailey is ready to come back into my arms.
“The fighting started not long after that,” his mother shares next. “I realize now that was only for attention too, but every time we had to pick him up at school or the park or take him home early from a tournament because he got kicked off the field for something or another, the first thing that would fly out of my mouth would be something along the lines of ‘why can’t you behave like your brother did …’”
“Your son loves you, Olivia,” I whisper, unsure of what else to say. “He talks about your cooking and even makes what he calls your ‘famous recipes’ sometimes. You know he’s helping an older couple in town build a deck at their home?”
Her smile is pleased. “Is he?”
I nod. “He said if his dad hadn’t shown him how, he wouldn’t know what to do.”
Olivia’s muscles seem to ease a bit and I’m grateful for it.
I can’t imagine the pain it causes a mother when she realizes she’s let her child down. Just thinking about doing wrong by Bailey makes my heart ache.
“He loves you and to be honest, I’m not sure he holds any of this against you,” I tell her before cautiously adding, “He just wants to feel like you’re proud, and maybe not of what he’s doing as a pitcher, but of the man he’s trying to be. Someone who works hard and doesn’t give up. Who is there for his friends and teammates when they need him, who goes out of his way for a girl he hardly knows.”
Secretly walking me home in the dark to make sure I was safe when he didn’t know more than my name and hair color. How, once he did, he started to pick me up without my asking. Suggesting he bring dinner to me when he sees my fridge empty while making sure not to acknowledge that fact as he does it, because he was raised better than that.
I smile at Olivia and a long sigh leaves her.
“Maybe I was wrong about that man,” she says softly, allowing Bailey to take her hands and using hers to help hold her up. “I just thought he was trying to take advantage of my son, but maybe he really did save him.”
My brows pull in and I tip my head slightly, but then realization dawns on me.
My son was lucky enough to get a second chance, got into a school with a push from that man …
Olivia’s words from our last conversation come back to me, followed by what Tobias said to me today.
There’s only one other person in this fucking world I allow to get in my head …
“Coach Reid.”
Olivia nods. “Tobias came home one day with all these ideas in his head, and to be honest, we didn’t believe any of it. I was so angry. He was a senior, his grades were up and down, and he had just been kicked off the baseball team.”
He was kicked off his team?
“Then here came this man in a blue polo, putting the fire we’d come to miss right back into his blue eyes, and I was terrified the man would disappear, making the fall ten times harder the second time around. One day, he packed all his things, and off he went the next. He called us from school, showed us his room, and introduced us to some of his new teammates. You know, on video call?” She lifts Bailey to her shoulder, patting her butt and bouncing her lightly as her cloudy eyes come to mine. “He was happy and smiling and … he is happy, isn’t he?”
I nod. “He is … and it doesn’t hurt that the school paints him as a god.”
A loud laugh spurts from Olivia.
“I’m serious, there’re giant posters of him in the halls, and this banner the size of a billboard outside of the athletic department. I mean, talk about giving someone a big head, right?” I tease, and her laughter continues.
“I bet he loves it.”
“Oh yeah.”
She sighs, a thankful smile on her lips. “He’s lucky to have you, Meyer.” She tips her head. “You’re not just his tutor, are you?”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out, and I look to my lap with a chuckle.
When my eyes meet hers, I find a knowing gleam within them.
“He’s … I like being around him and when I’m not I … want to be.”
Olivia fights a grin. Not well either. “But?”
My lips twitch and I look to Bailey. “But … things are a lot more complicated. My life and his …” I shake my head, unsure of what else to say.
“My husband was a butcher when I met him. Want to know what I was?” She raises a brow, answering before I have time to say a word, “A vegetarian.”
A laugh leaves me, and she winks.
Touché.
Olivia looks to the water fountain beside us, smiling when a dove comes down to sit on a rock, as if a new sense of calm has settled over her. “Man, first-round pick, huh?” Her lips curl even higher. “My baby boy.”
My nose burns as my emotions get the best of me and when Olivia looks to me, both our laughs crack.
Setting my mug down on the table, I lean across it. “Will you do something for me?”
Olivia tips her head, and to my surprise, she says, “name it.”
