Game 3

I’m just about to open the locker room door when I hear my name. I glance back and see Zandor and Xavier Steel.

“Thought you were out tonight?” Zandor asks.

“Got Rome out. Nour, AJ, and Bennett didn’t get shit for sleep, either. I’m good.”

“How’s your girl?” Xavier asks.

“Gwendolyn York is fine.”

“Oh shit, you may not know this, but fine is never good.” X shakes his head. “Total opposite.”

“Yeah, you hear that word, you get her legs in the air as quick as you can and do that while apologizing for whatever you allegedly did to make her fine,” Zandor agrees.

“We’re communicating through a third party and possibly interpretive dance.” I nod.

“Magic Mike that shit up; you’ll be good.” X nods. “You know the pony dance?”

“Do not listen to them.” Amias strolls past them and nods down the hall. “Come on, Locke.”

Down the hall a few steps, he asks, “You sure you’re good to play tonight?”

“Rome’s out.” I shake my head. “I need to play.”

“Understood. You let Coach know you’re here?”

“Yeah, right after yoga and before I slept for five straight hours.”

He stops dead in his tracks and asks, “You fucking with me?”

“Not about the sleep.” I laugh.

***

At the bottom of the sixth, we’re up by four and my second wind has come and gone.

“How are you feeling?” Pope sits on my right.

“In here, I want a pillow and a blanket. Out there, moving is a different story. You?”

“I got a few hours; I’m set.”

Vander sits on my left. “You good?”

“Yeah, man.”

“How’s hometown doing?”

I glance at him.

He smirks. “Gotta be honest, never understood the hang-up, but she’s kind of a badass, huh?”

Pope leans forward and looks at V. “She’s loyal to a fault.”

“Been hearing that.” V stands and looks down at me. “Love you, man. We’ve been through some shit together. Gonna give you the truths no matter how hard they may be.” He points at Pope. “No disrespect to Pope, but you loved that girl, and she didn’t give you the loyalty you deserved when she dumped your ass, the respect to have ever given you the answer as to why.”

Pope stands. “No disrespect to Vander, but I’m not sure I’d be taking relationship advice from a man who doesn’t sleep with his wife, just everyone else.”

“You mind your fucking business.” Vander starts to jab a finger in Pope’s chest.

I stand and take it to my own.

“V,” Coach yells, “get your ass out here. You’re on deck!”

Rubbing my hand back and forth over my head, I sigh. “Can’t we all just get along?”

“You might as well lug your ass up here, too, Locke—you’re up next.”

I glance at Pope. “Bro, you?—”

“Gwen’s good people,” he cuts me off, “So is Vander. Ease up, man; he’s got a full plate.”

“He’s also worried about losing a tag-team partner, so he’s shit-talking Gwen. That doesn’t bode well with me.”

“That’s because you need a fucking nap, Captain Cool.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What it means is you need a fucking nap. And before you get your jock twisted, so do I. But first, you’re on deck, and I’m up after you.”

Vander to second and Steel to third as I walk to the plate, bat in hand. I glance up at the stands, expecting to see empty seats where Whit and Gwen have sat for the past two nights, but tonight, my parents are sitting there.

I point my bat in their direction, and they stand. It takes Dad a minute, but he does it.

Mom just had her thyroid removed due to cancer, and then Dad’s knee had to be replaced. Before all that was the pandemic. They were taking care of each other for two full seasons, watching every game from home except the preseason in Houston.

I practice-swing once, twice, three times, and then four before stepping up to the plate. I tap the plate, point my bat to Houser on the mound, and then up to the stars before bringing it down as I step into my stance.

The first pitch, it’s perfect, a fucking gift that Houser didn’t know he was giving, and I swing with everything I have.

When the ball connects, I know just by the feel and sound that it’s going over the fence, and it does just that.

Crossing home plate, I point two fingers at my parents, and then I spot one of the news cams, point at the lens, back at myself, and then hold up two fingers, and then four, knowing that when Gwen sees this, she’ll know that symbolizes the same damn thing it always has. The same thing she asked me to stop doing not long after we broke up—you and me, together forever. She’ll either smile or get really fucking annoyed. At this point, I really don’t give a damn, just as long as she knows it’s coming.

And it is coming.

Seconds later, I’m in a fucking pile.

“First grand slam since I’ve been playing with you, and you do it dragging ass?” Steel laughs.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, kid.”

***

When I get in the locker room, I grab my phone, power it up, and text Mom and Dad to tell them where to meet me.

Then I see a message from Ms. Deb.

Deb: Zane brought us to your fabulous home, so you don’t have to come collect us after your game.

Another text from Marks.

Marks: I planned to pick a lock; instead, I punched your high school jersey number and York’s into your basic as fuck system. You need an upgrade. I’m staying until that’s in place.

I can’t help but laugh, knowing that bringing my folks back with me will make things a bit awkward when Gwen wakes up in the morning, but what can you do except roll with the punches?

In the shower, AJ asks, “Guessing we’re skipping O’Donnell’s again?”

“I’m heading to the beach for the night. Spotted my folks in the stands, so I’m out.”

“What about Gwen, Annie, and Deborah?” Bennett asks.

“Marks took them to the beach so she could get some rest.”

“How long of a drive is it?” he asks.

“Forty minutes. Why?” I lean back to rinse the shampoo from my hair.

“I just was hoping to get some sleep tonight, but it’s fine, I guess.”

Nour and my eyes catch, and he lowers his head, shaking it just enough for me to catch it, and steps in. “Thinking we should head back to CeCe’s since we promised breakfast in the morning, but?—”

“Who’s going to make Gwen breakfast?” Bennett cuts him off.

“Her mom’s in town. I’m sure she won’t let her starve,” I assure him, and then I mouth, “Thank you,” to Nour.

“Can you manage not to piss her off?” Bennett asks.

I know the shit is asking me this question, but it takes a minute for me to form a reply that won’t drive a wedge in the bridge we’ve been building.

Nour walks out, shaking his head.

My eyes meet Bennett’s now.

“What? It’s a legit question.”

“I’ll do my best.” I smile, turn off my water, and head out.

“We should grab Taco Bell for Rome and CeCe,” AJ says, jogging to catch up with Nour.

***

Just inside the player lounge, I see my folks talking with Justice and Max Steel.

When Max smiles and tips his head to me, Mom turns and hurries toward me. I drop my bag and open my arms, grabbing her in a hug and twirling her in a circle. I immediately notice she’s lost more weight.

She laughs. “Surprised to see us?”

“You know I am.” I put her on her feet and kiss the top of her head.

She reaches up, eyes sparkling, and takes my face in her hands. “I saw Deborah and Annie at the gas station this morning, and they told me what happened to Gwen. I assured her that we’d pray for Gwenie. Imagine my surprise when Deb told me you were the one who called her, that you were at the hospital with Gwenie, looking after her, and something about an engagement?”

Dad hugs me quickly then wraps his arm around Mom’s shoulder and tucks her into him. “Theresa, I thought we were going to keep that under our hats and let him bring it up.”

“I tried—I truly did—but something told me that he needed me to coax him a little bit.”

“To get into Gwendolyn’s hospital room, I had to tell?—”

“Now, hold up just a minute,” Mom cuts me off as she digs into her purse.

Dad leans down and whispers in the way he does, which is never much quieter than his regular speaking voice, “And I thought we were also waiting on?—”

“We had to bring you this.” Mom hands me a box. “Mama June wanted you to have this the day you proposed to Gwendolyn York. She adored her, you know? On her deathbed, I promised you’d have it, and now you do.” Her eyes fill with tears, and her hand covers her heart.

Fuck me, I groan inwardly but smile.

“When that day comes, I’ll have it now, won’t I?”

Not bothering to look at it, knowing it’s the flashy green diamond that Gwen pretended to love and gushed over every time she saw Mama June, I shove the damn thing in my pocket.

“Well, let’s get going. I can’t wait to give her a squeeze and let her know I knew this day would come, and I’m just so tickled I survived cancer so that I could be here to see Mama June’s ring on Gwenie’s finger.” She starts toward the door, leaving us behind.

Dad looks at me and shakes his head. “I will not apologize for anything that woman does.”

“I’m aware.”

“That hit at the bottom of the sixth …” He shakes his head. “You keep surprising me, son.”

A loud whistle has me turning back, and Justice and Max are coming our way, rolling Mom and Dad’s suitcases.

“You coming, son?” Dad yells to me but doesn’t look back.

“Right behind you, Dad.”

“You got them both?” Max asks.

“Sure do, thank you.”

I’m halfway to my vehicle when I stop hitting the key fob, unlocking the doors, and popping the hatch when Mom stops.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, we forgot our bags. Larry, our medications; how will we ever?—”

“I’ve got them. Y’all go ahead.”

“Must be the jetlag. You know we don’t travel like we used to.”

***

As soon as I’m in the driver’s seat, Mom fills me in on the latest Walton buzz.

“Assistant Coach Samuels had one doozy of a time at the start of the season while your daddy was still healing up. Darn-near ruined those boys. If you ask me, the Walton Warriors looked more like a flock of chickens in a thunderstorm than our beloved baseball team; they had no idea which direction to go. They looked so much better in just one game with your daddy back. I do not doubt that, with his guidance, Jake Henderson will lead them to at least enough wins. We may just see the playoffs for the first time in three years, don’t you think, Larry?”

“Could happen,” he agrees.

“Of course, he’s no Leland Locke, but he hit a home run last game, and the whole town was in a frenzy. Folks cheering on the boys like they were playing in the World Series.”

“They sure were.” Dad chuckles.

“Oh, and Mary Anne is feeling better now. Her famous banana pudding stole the show at last Sunday’s potluck, disappearing faster than you can say Amen. The ladies auxiliary is planning a bake sale to raise funds for the youth group’s mission trip and mentioned Mary Anne selling that pudding. I have no idea what they’re thinking. It gets hot out there in the Texas sun. Larry, don’t you think that’s just ridiculous?”

“Sure do, Theresa.”

It doesn’t end there. By the time we get to the beach house, I am caught up on all the happenings in Walton since I was back in Texas for Grandpa Locke’s funeral.

Pulling in, the place is dark except for the motion lights and one on the third level. I regret not sending a message to Gwendolyn to give her a heads-up. Then again, I’m not supposed to speak.

“I forgot about these stairs, Larry. Do you think you can make it?” Mom asks as I hit the garage door opener and pull in.

“We have an elevator, remember?” I ask, turning off the vehicle and hitting the button to close the door.

The lower level is half a garage, and the other is a game room and bar. It also has a kitchenette and a bedroom, but I rarely have company, so they go unused by me. When I start renting it out, it will certainly be appreciated.

The second level has six bedrooms with full baths and French doors leading to the deck. But it’s the upper level that sold me on this place. The entire east side has floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the dunes, with no obstructions as you look out over the Atlantic. Like the second and first floors, composite decking runs from one side to the other, with stairs to the lower levels. The floor plan is entirely open. I can cook and still interact with anyone in the kitchen, dining room, and living room, or just watch the waves roll in. There are two master suites—one on the north and one on the south side—with million-dollar views.

Laughing, she throws her hands in the air. “Oh my, how did I forget that? It has just been too long now, hasn’t it?”

“A week is too long, Mom.”

Dad gives me an approving wink.

“I think Dad and I should take the downstairs, just in case. Is that okay with you?”

“You choose wherever you’re most comfortable.”

“Let’s start down here and revisit tomorrow,” she says as I open the door for her and Dad, then follow them in. “Breathtaking, isn’t it, Larry?”

“Sure is.”

“This one might be my favorite,” Mom says as I walk into the bedroom, set their suitcases inside, flip on the light, and ensure the beds are made up. Thank God they are.

Yawning, I turn around and head to the fridge, hoping it has something for them to eat or drink if they get hungry. Sure enough, it’s packed.

“Were you expecting us?” Mom asks.

“It—”

“Don’t lie to your Mama Leland.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Was it Deborah or Annie who told you we were coming?”

I smile. “Neither.” But I’m sure glad they knew ahead of time. “I had the housekeeping service stock the place. They did good, didn’t they?”

She wraps her arms around me. “You need your sleep.” She kisses my cheek. “We’ll catch up tomorrow.”

“What time do you have to leave for your game?” Dad asks.

“No later than one.”

“Well then, you better get some sleep.” Mom steps back.

“Gonna do just that.” I nod. “Come up or call if you need anything.”

* * *

Dragging ass, I look up when I have one flight left and see Gwendolyn leaning over the railing, looking down at me. She straightens up and walks toward the kitchen, not saying a word.

When I reach the top, I see her sitting on a barstool at the kitchen island.

“Your folks get in, okay?”

“Gonna answer with words because my body’s whipped, and I don’t have the bandwidth to make up a dance to answer that question. Yeah, I looked up in the stands at the bottom of the sixth and was shocked.”

“Mom and Annie told me.”

I walk to the fridge and pull out a rotisserie chicken. “Glad they did. I wasn’t sure how I would dance my way through that conversation.” I set it on the counter, open the freezer, grab an icepack, and then head over to the drawer to grab a towel to wrap it in.

“You get hurt?” she asks as I wrap it up.

I hand it to her, saying, “No, but I can tell you’re hurting.”

She places it on her shoulder. “Thanks.”

I tear open the bag to grab a leg. “Where’s your sling?”

“In one of those rooms.”

“Which side?”

“Left.”

I smile, hand her the leg, and dive in for the other. “You’re in my room.”

“Yeah, I gathered.”

“Smell like me?”

“Don’t.” She shakes her head and whispers, “Please.”

“Okay.”

“They hate me, don’t they?” she asks quietly.

“Oh, fuck no.” I laugh.

“I’m not sure how to interpret that answer.”

I pull the box from my pocket, reach across the island, and set it in front of her.

She scowls at me.

“No interpreter needed with me, Gwen. Fuck no means fuck no. When Ms. Deborah told my mom we were together at the hospital and fiancée was mentioned, she booked flights because she had to give me this.”

Staring at the box like it’s a bomb, she asks, “What does that have to do with me?”

“Open it and see.” I can’t help but smile, yet she still doesn’t. “Jesus, Gwen, just open it. I promise it won’t bite.”

“It’s not like I’m scared of it.” She rolls her black and blue eyes, but then she reaches for it, looking so fucking uncomfortable it pisses me off. When she opens it, however, she immediately starts laughing, and I can’t be pissed off anymore.

“Deathbed promised Mama June that when I finally asked Gwendolyn York to marry me, I’d do it with this ring because she knew how much you loved it.”

“You’re so full of shit,” she says, still laughing.

“You think anyone else ever gushed over that thing?” I laugh. “You think if she took it to the grave, I’d dig her up so you could have it?”

“I mean, rude.” She tries and fails to act pissed.

“Yeah, well, that right there is a reason never to tell a lie.”

“A cautionary tale.” She smiles at the damn thing.

I nod. “I’m not sure if Mom is happier to be rid of it or at the thought that I’m going to get down on one knee and propose to Gwendolyn York.”

“I mean, if it’s the first, and she has to take it back with her, she’s going to be pissed.”

“Mom’s exact words, ‘I’m just so tickled I survived cancer so that I could be here to see Mama June’s ring on Gwenie’s finger.’ Imagine how she’s going to feel when I tell her you told me no.”

“Cancer?” Gwen asks.

“Thyroid. She’s good now.”

“Okay. Good.” She nods quickly up and down, then looks down and scowls. “But you didn’t ask me.”

“What?” I ask, knowing damn well I’m hearing things.

“I mean, if you did, it would be because of the whole thirty-fifth birthday thing, and we’d have to learn how to navigate all that—prenups, how many years we’re obligated, and?—”

“For me, it wouldn’t necessarily be about the big three-five. It would be?—”

“It couldn’t be about this.” She rests her hand on her belly. “Because I’m not talking about it with anyone. It’ll hurt too bad to even …” She clears her throat. “So, that would have to be agreed upon.”

My fucking heart is beating so damn hard right now.

“So? Are you going to or not?”

“Make a deal with me?”

She shrugs, brows knit, staring down.

“Let me do it the way I wanted to back then. How I still want to.”

“Is that a good idea when …?” She rests her hand on her belly. “If …” She stops. “I can’t be with you if.”

“When you can smile about that, then it’s a factor. Until then, keep telling yourself it’s the thirty-fifth thing, but let me do this my way.”

“Only if it’s with this ring.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I shake my head. “No. No way?—”

“That’s how deals work, Locke. You get to put something on the table, and so do I.”

I lift my chin, hoping I’m pulling off acting like this is no big deal when it’s the biggest deal of my life.

We eat our chicken, both trying to be chill.