The Ace (19 page)

“Answer the question, then. It’s rather simple,” Maddie said, cutting her off.

“I don’t...” Karen stopped and her eyes welled up against her will, pissing her off because she’d cried more in recent days than in the last ten years. She stood up and glared down at them, the perfect couple and the epitome of happiness. “No! I don’t want it because all it leads to is hurt and heartache, but I want it with him. I want it all with him.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I hate him. He’s a big, fat jerk.”

Maddie stood up and put her arm around her friend. “I know you do, honey. He is a jerk, but I’m so glad you’ve finally admitted to yourself that you like him and want to be with him.”

“I hate you too.” Karen sniffled.

She gave her a squeeze. “I know you do.”

Karen wiped her eyes with a napkin from the table. “I’m sorry for lying. I just wanted to keep things simple, but apparently that wasn’t possible.”

“Give him time, Karen,” Chase said.

“Time for what?” Karen asked as she continued to dry her tears.

“Just time. He’ll come around. I know Jerry, and it wasn’t simple for him either, believe me.”

“I don’t know. It may be too late for that.”

“Oh, come on, Karen. Don’t put the walls back up,” Maddie begged.

“I’m not. It’s just that he doesn’t—”

“Stop making excuses. He’s going to call you, you know that and we know that. The only question is...are you going to take the call?”

Karen looked at them before looking out over the small backyard. The pain she was feeling now would only be worse if he didn’t feel the same way. Could she go through that again? She closed her eyes and dropped her head in defeat.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I honestly don’t know.”

Chapter Nineteen

Returning to the bland hotel room he was living in while he did his time with the Dayton Sledgehammers, Jerry threw his bag in a chair by the window and fell back on the seafoam-colored bedspread with a long-suffering sigh. He’d been down here for two weeks and had no idea how much longer they were going to keep him. It felt like prison with no parole in sight.

When he arrived in Dayton, he’d been miserable and moody—anger and embarrassment were just two of the turbulent emotions rumbling around within him. He was pissed at the world and he wasn’t selective on whom he took it out on. If you were near him, you were fair game as far as Jerry was concerned. He’d succumbed to the pressure and that mortified him. He’d been in the league for seven years and had never performed this poorly. That wasn’t who he was. He was the Ace and you didn’t get that title by just being mediocre.

After he’d calmed down enough to get past some of his embarrassment and bitterness, realizing the only way he was going to be able to return to Detroit was to cooperate, Jerry opened himself up to the help Coach Adams was trying to give him. They talked a lot about making sure his head wasn’t cluttered with things out of his control. His focus had to be on the game and his pitches—that was it, nothing else. Anything else was only a distraction he couldn’t afford. Jerry knew this and had religiously practiced it, but somewhere along the way he’d let his mind get the best of him.

Since then, he’d been consistently working with the coaches to try and pinpoint areas to work on. For the most part, there was nothing that needed to change—only a few tweaks with where he released the ball and his positioning on the rubber, but that was about it. Everyone agreed that his mechanics were solid and sound.

After the game tonight, when he’d won by only giving up two runs and striking out nine, he’d sat down with his coaches in their cubicle-sized office to discuss his next steps. They’d gone through every observation made over the past couple of weeks and had firmly stated that they felt he was still one of the best pitchers in the league.

From there they’d started asking him questions about issues in his personal life that might be bleeding over into his game and he’d denied everything, claiming there was nothing going on, that his mind was free and clear. As soon as he’d opened his mouth, he knew he was going to lie and he was powerless to stop it. To acknowledge it meant that it was true and Jerry was afraid of what that could mean. To realize that perhaps he was like Coach Adams after all scared him more than he could admit.

He was humiliated that he’d let his personal life screw with him professionally, something he’d said would never happen, something he preached to every young pitcher who came up to the Show. It was something he couldn’t even admit to himself yet: that Jerry Smutton, the ballplayer, wasn’t infallible. He wanted to believe he wasn’t even sure when his problems had started, but that wasn’t true; no, he knew exactly when it’d started and if he was going to get his game back, he had to stop lying to himself.

The day he signed his contract was when all of his troubles had begun. Everyone had wondered if it would add pressure to him, having to live up to such lofty expectations, but he had dismissed it. He’d believed he was invincible, that nothing could bring him down, but he was wrong.

Add to that his refusal to admit to Karen that he could totally see being in a relationship with her, that he might even want to be in one with her. After one night with her, Jerry hadn’t been able to back away, desperately needing more like an addict, yet he still refused to admit that it was anything other than just sex. He’d ignored the telltale signs of jealousy when he’d heard about her date and had convinced himself that he hadn’t gone over to her house after his road trip intent on staking his claim. He’d even discounted the loneliness that he hadn’t known he was feeling until meeting someone he wanted to be with, certain it was in response to something else.

Even when she’d begged and pleaded with him to walk away, he couldn’t. Jerry needed her more than he’d ever needed anyone and that scared the bejesus out of him. He didn’t know how to need someone else. He’d always been the one in control, happy and carefree. To admit that he wanted someone to talk to and to be by his side when things went south, or even to just to be a silent presence of support, was to admit he wasn’t perfect. Jerry knew he wasn’t, but he didn’t want others to know that, especially when it came to baseball. He had to be perfect because if he wasn’t, then he wasn’t the best.

Without meaning for it to happen, he’d come to rely on Karen, to need her. But he didn’t let her know his perspective was changing, which was why she freaked when he did reach out. He’d been telling her that things were casual and carefree, but then the first second he got, he tried to change things up and take it to the next level. No wonder she’d taken a huge step away from him. Once he got past the pain of her rebuff, he didn’t blame her.

But that didn’t mean that her rejection stung any less and so Jerry had thought the only answer to that was to push her away. He assumed once he’d put some distance between them, he’d be able to focus on his pitching, but she refused to get out of his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, aching for her, wanting to hear her voice, and so he finally had to admit he couldn’t fix his game until he fixed things with her. Even if she told him to take one of his fastballs to the head, he had to try.

And that was where he was stuck.

He had no idea what to say to her or how even to go about it. How did you tell someone that you want more than just sex even though you’ve said that was all you wanted since day one? Somehow he didn’t think “just kidding” would cut it, especially to someone like Karen, but he had to do something, that much he knew for sure.

Jerry sat up and swung his legs around the side of the bed as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and stared at it. All he needed to do was say “Hi.” He could do that. She would probably swear at him and call him an ass, and quite possibly hang up on him, but he’d keep trying until she heard him out. She was probably still pissed at him and had every right to be after some of the things he’d said to her.

Truth of the matter, he’d been stunned to see her that horrid day. When he’d turned and found her in his doorway, he’d wanted to drop everything and rush over to her, pulling her into his arms, seeking some form of comfort. But then he’d remembered how she hadn’t even been able to talk to him the night before when he’d asked for help, and fresh hurt and anger had surged through him. She’d tried to extend an olive branch by coming over that day and he’d flung it right back into her face.

He took a deep breath, steeled himself and dialed her number. It rang three times and Jerry expected it to go into voice mail when she finally picked up.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

He gave a small chuckle. “Still screening my calls, I see.”

“I really don’t want to talk to you,” Karen said, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Okay, so how about if you just listen?”

“Jerry...”

“Just hear me out, that’s all I’m asking. You can hang up when I’m done.”

Several beats passed before he heard her sigh. “Fine.”

He didn’t know where to begin, but he had to start somewhere before he lost her.

“I was an ass. I’m sorry.”

“That’s an understatement,” she said quietly.

“Hey, no commentary,” Jerry said. “You’re supposed to be listening only, remember?”

“Fine, fine,” she muttered.

“As I was saying, I was an ass. I was angry, embarrassed and just downright pissed off, but that didn’t give me any right to take it out on you, but I was mad at you too. I was hurt that when I called you the night before you basically bailed. You didn’t want to help.”

“I didn’t—”

“Let me finish, please.” When she stopped, he continued. “But I understand why, Karen. I haven’t been completely honest with you or me, for that matter.”

“What do you mean?”

Jerry leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I know I said I wanted just a casual thing with us, but somewhere along the way things changed and I got confused. I kept crossing over and back, and that wasn’t fair to you.”

Shocked silence filled the line and he pressed on, believing he had the opening he was looking for.

“I denied it to you and I denied it to myself, which screwed up my head, which in turn screwed up my game, and well, here I am, a complete fucking mess.”

Karen sighed and closed her eyes. “You’re not a complete fucking mess. Just a small one.”

“Pretty damn close.”

* * *

Karen took a deep breath and prepared herself for her next words. She had a feeling they were not going to meet his approval, but she’d thought things through since her talk with Maddie and knew it was what she needed to do. She couldn’t keep experiencing this stabbing pain. “I appreciate you calling and explaining.”

“And?”

“And nothing. I’m hoping this doesn’t ruin anything between us. I would like us to still be able to stand the sight of each other, especially at the wedding.”

“And so that’s it, huh?” he said, but she could hear the tightness in his voice, a clear sign he was trying to restrain his anger.

“Jerry, I already told you I thought we should stop. I still believe that.”

“Even though I’m telling you the game’s changed?”

“Maybe for you it has...” Her words broke off, letting the unfinished sentence hang in the air between them.

“You know, the one thing I respected the hell out of you was that you didn’t lie, Karen. You tell it like it is. I always know where I stand with you.”

“Are you implying that I’m lying now?” she asked, a little too calmly.

“I know you are!” She heard him hiss a breath through his nose. “I know you have feelings for me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What? Why wouldn’t it matter?”

Karen shifted the phone to her other ear and rested her head back on the couch. She had to do this. It was the only way to survive. “It
can’t
matter.”

“Jesus, Karen,” he said, shocked by what she was saying. “I thought I was a mess...”

The tears started to build and she was glad he couldn’t see them. “I never claimed otherwise,” she said in a barely audible whisper.

“So, you’re telling me that even though we have feelings for each other that this is it? No more. It’s over?” Jerry asked and she could hear the disbelief in his voice.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Silence fell between them, as neither of them knew what more to say. They were at an impasse.

“Well,” he finally said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Karen flinched at his words. As much as she wanted to end this conversation, she hadn’t expected him to give in so quickly. She wanted him to fight her, but she knew the more he did, the more likely she would be to cave and she didn’t want to do that either. It was best to just cut the cord and move on.

“I’m sorry too,” she said quietly before hanging up. Then she rolled into a ball and fell apart.

* * *

Karen stood outside Maddie’s place with her hand raised in mid-knock. She needed to talk with her closest friend, but Chase was in there and she wasn’t sure she could face him; he was a reminder of everything she was trying to move past.

She looked a hot mess, having not taken the time to clean her face after her bawl session and knew she probably had makeup streaking down it. She couldn’t intrude on her friend like this out of the blue, without even a warning phone call. Karen had to remember that Maddie had a new life now and she couldn’t just come barging in whenever she wanted anymore.

She turned to walk away, embarrassed by her meltdown, when the door opened behind her. Chase was saying something over his shoulder to Maddie as he and Bree walked out. His eyes widened at the sight of her.

“Karen? Is everything okay?”

She tried to nod, but then her face scrunched up and she shook her head. Maddie, hearing the concern in Chase’s voice, stepped around and wrapped Karen in her arms.

“What happened? Come in here.”

“I’m sorry,” Karen said as she cried. “I’m a freakin’ wreck.”

“No, honey, don’t apologize.” Maddie looked back at Chase and Bree, who were both watching Karen with worry. “You guys go ahead. I’m going to stay here with Karen.”

“You sure?” he asked. “I could stay...”

“That’s sweet of you, really, but it’s probably better if it’s just the two of us.” Maddie kissed him quickly and smiled reassuringly at her daughter. “You guys have fun and get a hot fudge sundae for me.”

Karen walked in and plopped down on the couch, reaching into her purse for a tissue. “I’m sorry,” she said as Maddie sat down next to her. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night. I know you don’t get a lot of them with him during the season.”

“Don’t apologize. What’s going on? What happened?”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Okay and why are you an idiot?”

“You’re just going to say ‘I told you so.’”

Maddie’s mouth twitched. “I’m going to guess this has to do with Jerry.”

“You know it does,” Karen said as she sniffled and leaned back on the couch. “He called me today.”

“What did he say?”

“That he has feelings for me and he doesn’t want to end things between us.”

Maddie frowned as she sat back. “That sounds like good news to me, but let me guess, you told him no, right?”

“Of course I did.”

She slouched down as she closed her eyes. “Why did you do that? It’s obvious you care about him.”

“I know, I know! I thought I could just dump him, have it hurt like a bitch while I talked to him, you know, feel bad about it, but then I would move on and get over it. But I don’t want to move on! I don’t want to stop seeing him. I keep breaking down like an annoying little girl who’s lost her doll and all I want to do is crawl in bed. I keep thinking about it, about him, and the more I think about his stupid ass, the worse I feel.”

“Then why go through it?”

“Because I can’t do this, Maddie! I’m not built like you. I can’t take it.”