41. Monty

Chapter forty-one

Monty

There’s something magical about opening day. The sounds, the smells, the sun. It’s a perfect symphony for the senses. The feeling of a fresh start and another chance to go all the way.

I’m feeling damn good about our team. Spring training was exactly what it should have been. A chance for us to come together as a team, figure out our dynamic, and hone our skills. And it all led up to this: Yami’s on the mound, I’m behind the plate, and the Toronto Wolverines have their first player walking up to bat.

I take a deep breath and shut out everything but my focus on Yami. I give him the signal. A curveball.

He nods, then takes a step and winds up. The ball is in my glove seconds later, and the umpire calls a strike.

That’s how it’s done, boys. Even though no one can see it, I’m grinning behind my mask. The rest of the inning goes much the same with three up, three down.

Guess the Wolverines didn’t have as good a time at spring training.

We jog off the field, everyone clapping Yami on the back and celebrating his incredible start. I peel off my gear before finding him, knocking our heads together.

“There you go, brother. Unstoppable.”

He claps me on the back. “Hell, yeah. Dynamic duo. We should get matching tattoos.”

“Dude. Seriously?” I look at him, my mouth stretching in a maniacal grin. “I’m so in. Hey, Mav!” I shout for our teammate who has more tattoos than anyone. “Got a good tattoo artist? Me and Yami are gonna be twins.”

He fixes us with an inscrutable look. The guy has loosened up a lot over the last several months, but he still doesn’t laugh quite as easily as everyone else chuckling over my announcement.

“Unicorns shitting baseballs or mermaids?” I turn back to Yami. “Personally, I’m a fan of the unicorns.”

He just shakes his head. “Way to ruin my idea, Monty.” His smile betrays his griping.

Together, we turn to the field where Sin is stepping up to the plate against his former teammate. I lean against the railing, resting one foot on the lower bar. The pitcher sends the ball flying, but Sin’s a statue, familiar with the pitcher from when he played for the Wolverines.

Sure enough, the ump calls it a ball. He gets one more that’s too low, then a slider comes straight at him. The entire dugout holds their breath as Sin takes a swing.

CRACK.

“There it is!” I shout, clapping my hands as Sin takes off for first. He makes it with time to spare.

“You boys are off to a great start.”

I spin around at Lark’s voice. “Hey, Birdie.” I drop a kiss to her head and try to subtly touch her stomach as I lean in to whisper, “How’s baby bird doing?”

Her hand grazes over mine as she tips her head up, a wide grin on her face. “Just fine. Ready to watch Daddy hit a home run.”

“You got it. And we’re still planning to tell the bosses?”

“Yup.”

I kiss her nose. “Okay.”

Someone calls her name, and Lark turns and nods in acknowledgment.

“Get back to work,” I say with a wink. My eyes stay trained on her as she walks away, over to one of the coaches.

“Everythin’ good?”

I turn to look at Darling. “Everything’s fucking awesome. Let’s win this.”

He bumps my held-up fist and we focus on the game. Sin’s on third now, and Jonesie is up to bat. Unfortunately, he strikes out and stomps off the field with his jaw clenched.

“It’s all good, man, next time. You went down swingin’,” Darling calls out, but Jonesie just gives him a sharp nod, his eyes staring straight out at the field .

It never feels good to strike out. Especially not in your first at bat, in the first goddamn game.

Good thing I hit the homer my baby wanted when it’s my turn.

The game is over all too soon with Yami getting another shutout inning, securing our four-run lead.

The press is demanding of him and me, wanting to talk about our partnership, the Tridents’ strategy of letting one catcher and one pitcher work together as much as reasonably possible, and asking about our predictions for the coming season. It’s annoying when all I want to do is shower and find Lark. But this is part of the gig. And at the end of the day, I wouldn’t change it for anything.

Eventually, we’re done, and we can jog down into the locker room. Yami looks over at me as I rush to get changed. “You got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah,” I say, yanking a hoodie on. “Lark and I have a meeting with management.”

“Oh.” His eyes widen. “Oh!”

I pause and grin as I lower my voice and say, “We’re gonna tell the team at morning practice tomorrow.”

He walks over, one hand on his towel. With the other, he pulls me in for a hug. “That’s fantastic. Everyone is gonna be thrilled.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate you keeping it quiet.”

A strange look crosses his face. “All good. Everyone’s allowed to have a secret or two.”

I don’t get a chance to ask him what he means before he turns and walks over to his locker, keeping his back turned as he gets dressed.

As much as I want to check on him, I’ve got somewhere to be.

Grabbing my bag, I head out of the locker room and turn right, making my way to the trainer’s area. Lark is coming out of the gym, and we meet with a kiss .

“Ready for this?” she asks, taking my hand.

“So ready.”

We head upstairs to the executive level where we asked Mike Cartwright, the team’s owner, to meet us along with the head trainer and head coach. Not gonna lie, I’m scared shitless. I need them to be happy for us so we go into this season with them still thinking I’m worth keeping around for another five years.

My parents are excited about the baby, which is awesome. But they’re stretched thin enough managing the store. If I don’t land a good contract at the end of this season, I don’t have a hope in hell of convincing them to retire.

And I don’t want them killing themselves, trying to be there for Lark and the baby, as well as running the store. I want them to be able to relax and enjoy being grandparents. Enjoy the rest of their lives and let me pay them back however I can, for everything they’ve done for me.

Mike, Coach Stirling, and Mattias are already waiting for us in one of the conference rooms, and we walk in hand in hand. I pull out Lark’s chair and then sit beside her.

“Great game, Monty. You looked good out there,” Mike says, leaning back in his chair. “You must know we’re already aware of your relationship with Lark, so what’s the reason for this meeting?”

I look at Lark, who gives me a nervous smile. Then I turn back to the other side of the table. “Thank you, Mike. The team pulled off an excellent start to the season. We wanted to meet with the three of you because we have some news that may impact how things go this fall.”

Crap, that was the wrong thing to say, judging by the frowns and raised eyebrows.

“Not in terms of my ability to play,” I hurry to clarify, then wince, because that’s not exactly true. If Lark goes into labour, I sure as shit don’t want to miss it because of a game. But that might be out of my hands, which is something we’ve already discussed.

“Sorry. I’m saying this all wrong.”

“I’m pregnant,” Lark blurts out. “That’s what Dan is trying to say. We’re having a baby, due near the end of September. Dan will play the entire season, of course. But I may need to slow down come September and will, unfortunately, likely be on maternity leave for the end of the season.”

The room falls silent, the three men across from us absorbing the news. Mike reacts first, leaning forward with a smile creasing his face. “Well, first of all, congratulations. I take it this is happy news?”

My head bobs up and down. “Very happy. The happiest.”

He nods and turns to Lark. “Are you doing okay? Need anything?”

Her mouth falls open in surprise. I guess that’s warranted. I mean, it’s not every day the owner of the company you work for asks if you need anything because you’re pregnant.

“N-no thank you, Mr. Cartwright. I’m doing fine. We’re…we’re all doing fine.”

“Good. I suggest you get your names on the day care list soon. From what I hear, spaces don’t come available often.” He turns to Coach. “And we’ll make sure all the catchers are ready to go, in case Dan needs to miss anything. Family first.”

Now it’s my turn for my jaw to drop. “Thank you, Mike, but really, I don’t plan on missing any games unless it’s an emergency.”

Lark squeezes my hand in agreement. But I can’t fight the rising fear. Will they use the baby as a reason not to give me a good contract next year? If I have to miss games, will that work against me?

Mike turns back to me and his tone leaves no room for discussion. “Monty, I’ve always believed baseball is a family sport. This team has been my family for years. We take care of our own, first and foremost. Which means if you need to be there for Lark and your little one, you will be supported as much as possible. I know you’ve got one of the best work ethics on the team and your dedication does not go unnoticed.” His face softens. “But priorities shift, son. And now, you need to turn that dedication to your future family. The Tridents are here for you both, we’re not going anywhere. If the time comes that you need to be with Lark, that’s where we all want you to be.”

Well, shit. It’s not often I’m stunned silent. But I am right now. How did I get so lucky to end up on a major league team with someone like Mike Cartwright as the owner?

“Thank you, sir,” I choke out, my throat thick with emotion. I look over at Lark to see her eyes glistening with tears.

Mike gives us both a smile, then leans back in his chair once more. “Now, when are we announcing this news to everyone?”

That time comes the next morning when Lark walks out onto the field with me as the guys are all getting warmed up for a quick practice before we play again tonight.

I put my fingers in my mouth and blow a short, sharp whistle to get their attention. “Hey! Get your asses over here, I’ve got news!”

Everyone makes their way over, including a few of the training staff and coaches that were in the dugout. When they’re all loosely gathered around, I pull Lark in front of me, and drop my hands to her stomach, cradling it protectively.

“Everyone, meet the newest Tridents team member. They’ll be hitting the field this fall. And if we’re lucky, in twenty years, they’ll be taking my place behind home plate.”

There’s a split second of silence as everyone figures out what I’m saying, and then the group erupts into cheers. Next thing we know, Lark and I are surrounded, passed around for hug after hug.

Mike was right. Baseball is a family sport. And this team is my family.

But none so much as the beautiful woman smiling at me.