Chapter Twenty-Six

Atlas

The entire Legends team is stressing the fuck out right now. We are about to play the sixth game of the series, and if we lose, the Rangers will win the World Series for the second year in a row. If we win, we will go on to play the seventh and final game, and whoever comes out on top of that game, will be the victors of it all.

The game is this evening, and we have been watching tapes of the Rangers from last year's playoffs, trying to strategize. We lost the last game, so they only need to win one more, to take it all away from us. All the hard work both mentally and physically, is starting to wear us down, but we are still determined for this to be our year.

My agent called me earlier, letting me know that my mom needed to speak with me and that it was urgent. I know I shouldn't give in and speak to her, but I am curious as to what she has to say. She has never gone this long without some type of communication between us. Hopefully now she understands that everything that she has done was wrong.

My mom is meeting me here at the clubhouse around lunch time, since I am unable to get away, this just made it easier for me. She should be here at any moment, unless she is already here. We just got released to grab a bite to eat but were ordered to return within a half hour.

I walk towards the room I told her to meet me in and she is already there. This room is the meeting room that all the coaches use when they are comparing their schedules and how they want practice to be run, things like that. The room looks like any other conference room, big windows stretching along the wall with a view of the diamond, a large oak table with about twenty or so office chairs spread around the rectangle of the table.

There is an area on the back wall that would be a wet bar, if there were more than coffee, water, and tea available. The carpet is gray, the walls white, nothing special. Well, the wall that is toward the head of the table has a mural on it, it is of the field with Riverside Legends written across the center, all done in black, red, gray and white. It is pretty cool looking, in my opinion.

"Mom," I say as I get closer to her. She has been looking at her lap, which is unusual. "I have less than thirty minutes, so we will have to make this brief."

Her eyes look sad, which I was not expecting at all, though she does try to smile, it's small, but a smile, nonetheless.

"I will just get right into then. I want to apologize to you for everything that I have ever done to you or in your name. I have been thinking about everything, and I realized that I have turned into the person that I never wanted to be, as a mother and a woman. I have started taking action in the things I wanted to change. I'm not sure if she told you, but I spoke to Indya as well, apologized, and asked for advice. She really is a lovely woman, Atlas, you chose well."

I am speechless. I have no clue what to say to her right now. Never in a million years did I think my mother was capable of this, of apologizing, owning up to what she did and knowing that it was the wrong way to handle it. I continue to sit next to her, and just listen.

"I want to let you know, I filed for divorce, and I will be moving from the house I am in now. I found a cute little cottage, about twenty minutes from town. I am being completely honest with you when I say I am taking action and making changes. It started with the things that made me unhappy in life and that was your father, and that fucking house."

My eyes widen, my mother does not curse. For her to drop the "F" bomb, is almost funny, I do smirk, but I hold the chuckle in. "I am happy for you, mom, really, I am. But what are you doing to change the way you view your relationship with your children? You can't just try and change things about our lives that you don't believe are up to your standards," I tell her honestly.

"I know, and I am working on that. I am also seeing a therapist; he says that I have a control issue. That I need everything and everyone to be as I want, which is my issue and no one else's. I have learned that the way I was brought up isn't the way my children want to live their lives." I am a little speechless that she is telling me this. I never in a million years thought my mother, of all people, would ever admit to seeing a therapist.

"When I was younger, I always said that I was going to be close with my children and never do to them what my parents and your fathers' parents did to us. Which is exactly the thing I was doing, but I swear I am willing to change that. Before I let you get back, I wanted to let you know, I started taking some classes to learn ASL. I can confidently say, I know all the alphabet and can fingerspell anything. I don't know any signs for words yet, but I will get there."

Damn, the shock just keeps coming. "That is amazing, mom. It warms my heart that you started learning on your own. Haven is an amazing human being, and I can't wait to watch her grow from childhood to womanhood. It is going to be magical to watch. I am proud of you mom, you are taking action, doing what needs to be done. I mean it, I am so fucking proud of you right now."

"Does this mean you will unblock me now? Let me tell you how heartbreaking it was not to be able to reach out to you anytime I wanted. It was horrible. Again, I am sorry for everything. I love you, Atlas," my mom says softly, a tear, a genuine tear, slips down her cheek.

"I accept your apology, and yes, I will unblock you. I love you too, mom. Keep it up, you're about to see and do some amazing things with this new outlook on life that you have."

She laughs, telling me to get back to training so we win the World Series. I hug her tight before we go our separate ways, my day feeling a little brighter than before. Everything is going perfectly right now, my mom is back and better than ever, I have my team, and we are all busting our asses to make our dream a reality, but most of all, I have my girls.

It's game time, the team is pumped and ready to go. Everyone I love and care for is here, even my dad. However, he chose to sit in the stands, instead of the box with the rest of my family. I understand, he and mom are not on the best of terms right now. He is not happy about her filing for divorce, but he has to realize, they are both happier apart.

I told Indya to meet me in front of the locker room before we head out to the field. I'm glad she agreed because I want to see her again before I hit the field. I open the door and find her waiting against the wall, looking sexy as fuck in my jersey, barely any makeup on her face, her hair is a messy bun. She must hear the door close behind me because when she meets my eyes, her face brightens.

"Hey, are you guys ready?" Indya asks, I can sense she is nervous for us, even though she knows the bare minimum there is to know about the game, she is still supportive.

"We are. I just wanted to get a good luck kiss before heading out there. I may have just wanted to see you and hold you as well, because even though I'm excited to be where we are, I am nervous as fuck," I tell her, rubbing the back of neck. I remove my hand from my neck and pull her into me by her waist.

"You guys are going to be great, I just know it," she whispers against my lips before pressing into mine in a mind-blowing kiss.

We are both breathless when we break apart, I tell her I need to get back, but she stops me before I reach the door.

"I have been curious about something, Atlas. Why do you always adjust your gloves when you are batting? Are they the wrong size or something?" She looks genuinely confused about my batting ritual.

"It's not my glove I am adjusting, that is my batting ritual. I have actually only taken it on since I met you and Haven. So, it's not a ritual I have always had. I like to touch the charms Haven put on my bracelet for good luck, then touch my heart. It is my signal for you and Haven. It makes me feel like you are both there with me and not at home or in the family box. It comforts me knowing I have a piece of both of you there with me. You both give me signs and I give you both signals" I tell her honestly. I don't know why I never explained, I guess it just never came up.

Her eyes gloss over, and she smiles so big I can see every tooth in her head. Suddenly, she runs, jumps, and has her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms around my neck, and her mouth pressed to mine. I hold her by the ass with one hand and the waist with the other, squeezing her tight.

I set her down, letting her know I really have to go now, and she says, "Thank you for finding me when I needed you most, Atlas. I love you. Good luck." Then she turns and runs in the opposite direction, toward the family box.

I walk back into the locker room, the biggest grin on my face, some of the guys teasing and saying I look like I just got laid. I just laugh, nothing can take away this high that I am feeling right now. Win or lose, I am on top of the fucking world.

By the end of the fifth inning, I am beginning to lose that feeling, we are down by two. I can tell we are all feeling the pressure, especially Zander, he always seems to think that he is the one responsible when we lose any of the games.

We are in the sixth, and the Rangers are at bat. They have two outs and no one on the bases. Zander is killing it this inning, no runs have been made by the Rangers in the sixth inning, some have managed to get on base, but they never make it past second.

I am out here in center field, praying, hoping that Zander strikes this dude out. I hear the crack of the ball hitting the bat, my heart beating hard against my ribs, then that sweet, sweet word, "Fouuul" rings in my ears. Fuck yes! The next moment goes by quickly, Zander striking the batter out.

Seventh and eighth innings are a tossup, we finally catch up, tying the score, then the Rangers get another run. It is like a game of tug-o-war, every inch we gain, they take one step ahead of us.

It is the bottom of the ninth, Legends are at bat. The score is 7-6 with the Rangers leading. I am on second base and Bailey, our catcher, is up to bat. Bailey bunts the ball, letting me get to third, and Bailey getting us our second out.

Simms is up next to bat, and he gives me a look that I can barely make out, but I see clear as day what he does with his arms and hands as he walks to the plate. To most he may look like he is stretching before going up to bat, but to others we know.

Simms takes his index and middle finger spreading them apart to make a ‘V' and slides it across his opposite arm. Holy shit, he just gave me the sign to steal. He wants me to steal home. Well, who the fuck am I to refuse him, especially when he learned to sign the word ‘steal' just for me. I laugh a big belly laugh and throw my head back.

The other players around me look at me as though I am losing my shit. But they are about to see why I am one of the best in the league. I wait for the perfect moment to make my attempt. The adrenaline is rushing through me, ready to do this.

I take a deep breath, my foot on the base, my eyes focused on the pitcher. He winds up his pitch, as soon as the ball leaves his fingers, I take off like a bat out of hell.

The world around me seems to slow, my heart is racing, the adrenaline pumping, and the next thing I know, I hear "Slide!" yelled from somewhere in the dugout. So, I fucking slide, head first, arms out. The dirt flying all around me, I closed my eyes, my body tense, hoping I was fast enough. As the dirt begins to settle, I think, please let me have this one, then the sound of the umpire yelling "Saaafe!" melts all the tension away.

The roar of the crowd coming back to me, as I stand, my gaze goes straight to the box, I touch my bracelet, I touch my heart, then raise my hand with the two middle fingers down and the thumb, index and pinky finger up. My signal and their sign, all for them.

The team rallies around me, congratulating me on my steal, the umpire cuts it short as Simms is still at bat. The score is tied 7-7, we have two outs, we need one more run to give us one more opportunity to win the cup, one run, one game, dreams made.

Simms has two strikes; he steps out of the batter's box and I see him take a deep breath. I can see the nerves hovering his body like armor. He isn't the worst hitter, but he isn't the best either. He has days where he hits great and days where he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. If he strikes out, he is going to take it hard.

He takes the step back into the box, waiting, here comes the pitch. Every one of the Legends players are standing right outside the dugout, holding our breath, some like me with their eyes closed.

Crack! As soon as I hear it, I open my eyes, searching for the ball, when I don't see it, I jerk my head toward home plate, Simms is running the bases. My eyes widen as I see the umpire giving the signal that Simms hit a homer. Holy shit, Simms just hit his first home run in his MLB career.

The smile on his face is bright, but he has a look of disbelief lingering in his eyes. He touches home, and we are all grabbing him, thanking him for getting us the win, winning by one point. The World Series Championship Cup is ours for the taking, one more game, nine innings. We got this.