Third Base (The Boys of Summer Book 1) (20 page)

And this pent up frustration, well that’s what Sarah’s for. She has hers, I have mine, and that is why our arrangement works. I should’ve known better than to fuck with a good thing.

The flight from Oakland to Seattle is under two hours and it’s barely enough time to get any shuteye. Instead, Kidd and I take advantage of the free booze and we keep the flight attendants busy. We’re not the only ones drinking, just two of the youngest, but legal is legal.

When we land I’ll be heading to my parents. It’s a luxury that we’re entitled to when we visit our hometowns. My parents live close enough to Safeco Field that it’s only a ten-minute drive. Sarah’s apartment is fifteen and if I have my way, I’ll be spending as much time with her as possible. She’s exactly what I need to get over this sour taste in my mouth.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay at the hotel?”

“Nah, my bed at home is waiting for me.”

When you’re single and on the road you can have a lot of fun. The cleat chaser’s know what hotels we stay at and most know our arrival schedules. We’ll be in town long before the bar closes and they’ll be looking for action.

“Shit, don’t you mean Sarah’s bed?” Kidd shakes his head as he downs his drink. If I hadn’t been so hung up on that certain baseball fan back in Boston, I would’ve had Sarah pick me up tonight, but when my mom called it was an automatic request. If I really wanted to, I could go to Sarah’s after visiting, or she could come over to my parents’ house. My mom may not understand, but she wouldn’t question Sarah’s presence at our house.

When the flight attendant comes back, she has new drinks for us, plus an assortment of snacks. I’m starving, but the short flight makes meal preparation a bit difficult. I’m hoping my mom has the refrigerator well stocked or she at least cooked a big meal today.

“Does she have a sister?”

“Who?” I ask, tearing my eyes away from the window. Even though it’s dark out, I know the vast mountains of the Cascades loom beneath us.

“Your girlfriend?”

I frown at the term girlfriend. For a brief moment I was stupid enough to think that I’d have a girlfriend, but that thought is long gone and a fuck buddy is better suited for me.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I say, shaking my head. I quickly finish my drink and hand my empty cup to the attendant as she passes by.

“What do you call her?”

I shrug. “I don’t know; my ex? Sarah doesn’t have a label.”

“You know most guys label that ‘for a good time, call’ and put her name and number on the bathroom wall.” Kidd is laughing so hard at his joke that he wakes Bainbridge up, who is frowning at us. I grimace, letting him know that I’m sorry, but he looks pissed and will likely yell at us tomorrow in the clubhouse.

“Sarah is completing her residency at the hospital. She doesn’t have time to meet guys, so this is convenient for her.”

“So she uses you for your pecker jammer?” He cocks his eyebrow at me, trying to stifle a laugh, only he can’t and ends up snorting and blowing booze out of his nose. I keel over, laughing, as Kidd scrambles to clean up his mess while putting together a string of curse words that would rival the Urban Dictionary.

We get stares from the other guys, but one look at Kidd and they know he’s done something stupid. It’s typical behavior, especially when we travel. He’s the life of the party. As soon as he’s done and the redness from his face has dissipated, I can finally answer his question.

“No. It’s mutually beneficial. I get what I need without someone demanding a diamond ring, and she gets what she needs without wondering if her hook-up is going to call the next day. She knows I won’t call and I know she has no desire to get married.”

I do fear the day that changes. I’ve often thought about why she hasn’t tried to meet someone new or even someone in her field. She’s always waiting for me to come to town, or flying out to see me when she gets a vacation. Even though she knows I’ve been with other women since her, it doesn’t seem to bother her at all. The first time she asked, I thought she would break down and start crying, but she didn’t. Now that I’m thinking about it, I actually kind of find it odd.

The moment we land I’m scrambling to deplane. I’m anxious to see my parents, my sister and my niece, Shea. I don’t know who will be here to pick me up and it honestly doesn’t matter because knowing that I’m home is a big stress reliever.

As soon as my feet hit the steps, I see my dad waving. It looks like he’s chatting with the bus drivers that will take the rest of my teammates and all our gear to the hotel the team is staying at. Every bag that was checked when we boarded will be taken to the hotel. I packed extra in a carry-on so I can stay with my parents.

My dad’s arms wrap around my shoulders tightly as we embrace. “So happy you’re home,” he says, patting my back. He has no idea how much I need this hug. I don’t care how old you are, hugs from your parents are a necessity.

“Me too,” I tell him, returning the sentiment. This is the only time they’ll see me play unless they come to Boston or pick up an away game along the way. If I had been drafted by a West Coast team, they’d see me more. I know they miss watching me play, and college spoiled that for them. Being close meant they were at most of my games.

“Is mom still up?’ I ask, knowing it’s late, and she takes care of Shea during the day so my sister can work and not have to worry about daycare.

“She sure is. You know she’d stay up waiting for her baby boy to come home.” My dad ruffles my hair and smiles. It doesn’t matter how old I am, or what my profession is, I’ll always be my mom’s baby boy.

The guys all come over and say hi to my dad, shaking his hand or giving him a hug. Last year, my parents came to Boston and my dad hung out on the field with me. The guys treated him so well.

My dad moves his hands to my shoulders, shakes his head and pulls me into another hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

He takes my bag and I follow him to the car. It’s the same car we had when I was in high school. I tried to buy them a new one when I signed my contract with the Renegades, but they took the money and started a college fund for Shea, something I was planning to do anyway. My parents won’t take anything from me, and it’s sort of nice, but also a pain in the ass because they’ve done so much for me that I want to help them out and make sure they’re comfortable. They refuse to let me help them though.

The drive to my parents’ house takes about a half hour. Seattle and Boston aren’t all that different when you compare the two. Both are harbor cities, although in Boston it’s called “the harbah”. Both have these amazing waterfronts, along with excellent places to eat and shop. Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market remind me of Pike’s Market, minus the fish throwing. And the weather is similar. I think that is why I love Boston so much; it feels like home and has since the day I arrived.

I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until the car shuts off. “Sorry for dozing,” I say to my dad as I come to and reach for the handle. No sooner do I step out of the car and shut the door than I hear my mother squealing. Her arms are flung around me before I have a chance to gather myself and we fall back against the car.

“You’re home,” she says sweetly into my shoulder.

“I am. I wish it were for longer though.” I set my mom down, and she cups my cheeks.

“Promise me you’ll come home this winter.”

“I promise,” I tell her, meaning it. There really isn’t a reason for me to stay in Boston through the winter. The housekeeping service I use can check on my house, or I can sublet it to someone. Coming home will do me some good.

“Let’s go inside. Shea is sleeping on the couch. She’s been waiting for you. Shana is heating up your plate.”

“The only one missing is Mike.” My mother frowns, turning away to go into the house. She worries about my brother-in-law and knows how much stress my sister is under while he’s gone. Each time he leaves, Shana and Shea move in with my parents because my mom doesn’t want Shana to be alone. Mike’s a great guy and I’m proud of him. I only wish he were home to watch my niece grow up; although I don’t have much room to talk since I’m not home either.

As soon as I step into the kitchen, the smell of home washes over me. My sister is behind the counter, looking as beautiful as ever, with her dark hair piled high on her head. She wears a Proud Army Wife t-shirt and once we make eye contact, she’s sprinting toward me. I pick her up and hold her, telling her how much I’ve missed her. I don’t care if it was last week or six months ago when I saw them last – we’re a close family and being apart from them really sucks.

“Shea is going to be so excited that her Unc is home.”

“I can’t wait to take her to the field tomorrow.” I set my sister down and look her over. She’s seemed to age since the last time I saw her, not that I’m going to tell her that. Mike’s tours must be getting to her. “How are you, Shana?”

“I’m good. I stay busy with work and Mike calls a lot.”

“When’s he coming home?”

“Soon,” she says, nodding. “It’ll be soon.” Shana doesn’t say anything more on the subject and walks away when the microwave beeps.

“Your bag is in your room,” my dad says, returning from down the hall. I was so wrapped up in seeing my sister that I didn’t even know he had come into the house. As I look around the kitchen, nothing has changed and yet everything seems so much smaller than the last time I was here. I’m so used to my open floor plan and how everything is bright in my house. My parent’s kitchen is dated and dark. The cabinets have to be from the seventies, and even though the appliances were replaced while I was in high school, they’re outdated now.

From where I’m standing, I can see into the family room. The cream colored carpet needs to replaced, walls could use a fresh coat of paint and the curtains updated. I know my parents won’t let me buy them a new house, but they never said anything about remodeling.

“You should let me remodel your house,” I say as I sit down. My sister puts a hot plate of food down in front of me, and I instantly dig in, having missed the taste of a home cooked meal. She sits to my left with my mom on my right and my dad across from me. I know they hate it when I try to spend money on them, but it’s something I can afford to do and want to do this for them.

“We don’t need your money, Ethan.” My mom says, putting her hand on my forearm. “You’re going to need it someday.”

“Mom, if I spend that much money in my lifetime, something is seriously wrong with me.”

“Maybe you should take him up on the offer,” Shana says. I smile at her, silently thanking her for taking my side.

“I tried to buy you a car, but you gave the money to Shea.”

“She needed a college fund,” my mom retorts.

“That I would’ve set up for her!” I counter, putting my fork down. I look at my parents, hoping to convey that I’m serious. “You guys worked your tails off for Shana and me. We had the best of everything. Let me do this for you.” I turn to my mom and pick up her hand. “I know you have a Pinterest board full of ideas for the house. Let me make that happen.”

“How do you know about my Pinterest?” I don’t know if she’s surprised I know what Pinterest is, or that I know about her board.

“Shana told me.” I wink at her, earning an eye roll. They may balk and try to change my mind, but deep down they know I can do this for them and will. I look at my sister who is beaming. “You can start making some calls.”

Mom lets out a big screech before covering her mouth, hoping to have not awakened Shea.