Chapter 13

Jake

Since the stormy weather passed, it's been nothing but blue skies and mild temperatures. The team is back to practicing on the field and it feels great to be out in the fresh air again. It's helped me to clear my head and focus.

After letting all that shit with Jenica go, I don't feel like a caged lion. I'd stopped jumping every time the house phone rang and didn't ask Ellery how she was doing. Jenica had made herself clear—she didn't want to talk to me, so I stopped trying. I even unplugged my answering machine and found myself getting back to a normal sleep cycle. No more waking up at midnight like an addict, waiting for a call that was never going to come.

I'd also hit a few parties and had plenty of opportunities to get back on that horse, so to speak, but whenever a girl approached I found myself bored and disinterested. Being out of the game for so long changed me. Now when I went out, I preferred nursing my beer and bobbing my head in time to the music to hooking up with some random chick. Not to mention I was living with the world's most meant for each other couple, and I couldn't stop myself from wondering what it would be like to have what Cruz and Ellery do.

"When do you leave again?" I ask him as we're getting ready to leave the clubhouse after practice one Friday afternoon. Monday is Founder's Day and we don't have school or practice. Most of the guys are taking advantage of the long weekend and heading out of town, including Cruz.

"We're catching a seven o'clock train." He runs a hand through his hair and checks his reflection in the locker cabinet mirror before turning to me. "Should get into the City just in time for dessert."

He grins and I can't help but laugh. "You're staying at your parent's place, right? You and Ells may want to keep it down with Mom and Dad only a door away."

"Their room is on one floor, and ours another." He claps my back. "The universe works in marvelous ways my friend."

I shake my head, both knowing and wishing that were true. "When are you back?"

"Monday night." He crosses his arms and leans back against the cabinet. "Are you going to head to the mountains?"

A couple of the guys from the team invited me to go camping. The snow in the hills is gone and they've got a few spaces rented and a couple of kegs.

"Think I'm going to pass. I'll probably just lay low. Order some take out and watch a couple of movies with Marcus."

"That sounds good. Ellie and I will be doing the same. She's got a meeting on Monday morning that she's a little anxious about. No better way to ease that anxiety than by…"

"Don't say it," I stop him.

"Relax and hang with the family," he grins. "That's all I was going to say."

"The hell you were."

He laughs while zipping up his bag. "You're more than welcome to come with us if you want. Nuestra casa es su casa."

"Yeah," I smile, "I know."

My house was Cruz's during his first two years at Highland. His dad visited him here, of course, but I always assumed going home for the bigger holidays was a no-go because of the whole stepmom thing. With my parents' house being close by train, it was easier to head up there for holidays and long weekends. Plus, my parents loved having him. They considered Cruz another son and gave him a standing invitation to come home with me, anytime.

"You and Ells have fun with your parents," I say once I've zipped up my own bag. "I'll see mine in a few weeks when we play UConn."

Whenever a series takes me close to home, I take the opportunity to spend time with my parents. They love it and I do, too. I love my family. They're awesome and have always supported me.

"We'll probably be back to the city then, too." He hikes one leg up, resting the back of his foot on the bottom of the cabinet. "I see a few trips there in our future over the next few months while she gets all this business with the Trust wrapped up."

"So she's really doing it," I marvel. "Giving away all that money."

"Yup," he nods. "Hoarding wealth was Elmhurst's thing. The only money she cares about is how much interest the Trust makes so she can help more people."

When Ellery learned the truth about her birth father, she learned that truth came with a birthright that entitled her to a majority of the shares in the Davenport Trust, one of the largest financial portfolios in the country.

Along with Ellery's mom and Cruz's dad, only Cruz, Jenica and I know this. She doesn't want Marcus to know. The fewer who do, the better. That's what made her suggestion when Jenica arrived for that last visit all the more surprising. I know she would do anything to help her best friend, but it would come at a cost that none of us, especially Cruz, wanted.

To keep her identity a secret, her mother had been acting as Ellery's proxy at the Trust for the past six months. Before Ellery could be involved, her mother insisted on removing the old board and conducting a review of every business in its portfolio to determine how deep their ties to Elmhurst ran. It was Ellery's dream to turn the Trust into one of the nation's largest philanthropies, giving back to the communities it had harmed over the years, but she wanted it to be done with legitimate funds. This required knowing which companies she could trust, and which she could not.

"Her mom hates the idea of Ellery having to be there in person," Cruz crosses his arms. "And honestly, I do, too. But apparently silent trust only refers to what beneficiaries know. She still has to sign legal documents in person."

Cruz hates this. I know he does. If it were up to him Ellery would give up all ties to the Trust. She doesn't need the power or money. In fact, she isn't taking a cent from it and doesn't need to. Between the trust she inherited from the father that raised her—one she learned wasn't created using Elmhurst money, but that which he and her mother made with their own business dealings—and Cruz's own, which will include whatever he makes in the majors, they're set.

Still, she is determined to use Elmhurst's greed for good, and Cruz will always support her dreams. The pint-sized force of nature that is his better half has learned all there is to know about the Trust—holdings, resources, operations, you name it—in a matter of months, all while holding down a full class load.

"Damn," I shake my head. "The country's most benevolent philanthropist will be my little sister and the world will never know."

The tension in his jaw eases and his eyes light up with pride. "That she is, brother, which makes the side project I'm working on while we're there, that much sweeter."

"Oh yeah?" I tilt my head, curiosity getting the better of me. "Could that special project be a meeting with the Yankees by any chance?"

"No." He shakes his head. "A ring."

"As in engagement?" I ask, brows shooting up.

"Hey," he laughs, "that day I said happy wife, happy life, I meant it."

"Shit man. Are you going to propose this weekend?"

"No," he laughs. "I need to know where I'm going to land first, then Ellery needs to get settled at whatever school she transfers to before that can happen. I don't want to add planning a wedding on top of everything. I just want to make sure the ring is perfect for when we are ready because she deserves that."

"You're right," I agree. "She does."

We finish gathering our stuff and I can't help but think about how crazy life is going to get for us soon. Playing pro ball…it's what we have both dreamed about. The next few months are going to be crucial, and yet, I can't help but admire how chill Cruz is. Must have something to do with the fact he's getting what he's always wanted, in love and life.

"Can I ask you something?" I run a hand through my hair and turns from the mirror in my own cabinet.

"Shoot."

"How did you know Ellery was the one?"

He tilts his head and gives me a curious smile. "Why do you ask?"

I straddle the bench that runs along the length of the locker cabinets and lower myself down onto it. "Call me curious."

He sets his bag down and takes a seat opposite me. "Well…" He pauses, considering the question. "The moment we met there was this pull. Like gravity, only stronger." He shakes his head and smiles. "Man, I was a goner from the moment I first laid eyes on her."

"So then how did you do it?" How did one let go of someone they knew was right for them, but timing said otherwise? "How did you let her go, and never say a word?"

"I didn't." He grips the bench in front of him and looks down. "She was with me the entire time. I just did a good job of hiding it. Buried those feelings deep, man."

"You did a good job." I never knew something was missing from his life until I saw them together. Then it was clear.

"Why do you ask?" He looks back up. "Did you meet someone?"

"No," I shake my head. "Just curious."

Honestly, I was more than curious. In fact, I was beginning to wonder if I'd found the one and didn't know it. Or, if perhaps she was out there, and I was missing my chance at meeting her because I wasn't opening myself up to the possibility because the first girl I felt a connection with had fucked me over.

Cruz looks at me as if he knows I'm lying but surprisingly, doesn't say anything. Instead, he reaches for his bag and gets up. "Alright, ready to go?"

"Yup, right behind you."

I push up from the bench and grab my bag and he grips my shoulder as the two of us head out of the clubhouse. As we pass Coach's office he calls out. "Cruz, Chambers, got a minute?"

We both stop and turn to look at one another. "What do you think he wants?" I ask.

"Not sure," Cruz shrugs. "Scouts coming to our next series, probably."

"Maybe," I nod. "Let's go see."

We backtrack and head into Coach's office, finding him sitting behind his wood desk. "Take a seat," he says in his trademark gruff voice.

I pull one chair out and sit, dropping my bag down next to me, and Cruz does the same. Looking at us for a moment, the skin on the back of my neck pricks. I don't know if we're about to get our asses handed to us, or what.

After a beat of silence, he places his elbows on the desk and clasps his hands together. "There's no way to tell you this," he starts, looking from me to Cruz, "so I will just come out and say it. There's an offer on the table."

Cruz and I look over at one another, then back at Coach. "Offer? I ask tightly. "As in singular?"

Shit, this is why he called us in here. One of us is being drafted and the other is not. It's the kind of news that could strain even the best of friends, no matter how happy one is for the other.

"Yup," he nods. "Only, not as you think. It's not an offer for one of you, but both."

Cruz leans in as if he didn't hear what Coach just said. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

Coach draws in a deep breath and then drops his hands, resting his forearms on the desk. "Last summer, the owners in MLB unanimously voted to approve the addition of two new franchises to the league."

"The expansion," I nod. "Denver and Florida."

"Um-hmm," he nods. "Marlins and Rockies."

"What's that got to do with us?" Cruz asks.

"Well," Coach looks at him, then me. "You two are being eyed as a pitcher/catcher combo for the Rockies debut season."

"What?" We say at the same time, both sitting up straight.

"Are you serious?" Cruz asks the question I was just about to.

"Serious as a heart attack," Coach nods. "In November, there is going to be an expansion draft in New York for both teams to build out their rosters in advance of the '93 season, and Rockies would like to include not one but both of you in it."

Cruz and I look at one another in stunned silence. I know what he's thinking because I'm thinking it, too.

We've both had the same dream to play in the big leagues. He on the mound at Yankee Stadium, and me, behind home plate at Shea catching for the Mets. Neither of us doubted we would achieve those dreams. But neither of us thought for a second we'd achieve them together, on the same team. It's the whole reason we went to Cherry Cove last summer. One last hurrah before we started what we thought would be our last year at Highland. To think it may not be the end of something, but a beginning, is mind-blowing.

"Isn't that unheard of?" I manage to ask. "A pitcher and catcher being recruited as a package deal?"

"Well, yeah," Coach nods, "it is. At the same time, it is not completely unheard of for scouts to be interested in teammates."

"But a pitcher/catcher duo?" Cruz repeats my question, emphasizing its importance.

There was a bond between pitchers and catchers. One that could be tight or tenuous. But it was one of the most important connections on the field and was not to be taken lightly. It's why catchers and pitchers reported to spring training first. Catchers needed to be leaders, and pitchers drivers. A dynamic of talent and ego that could be explosive, but with the right chemistry, electric.

I knew the connection that Cruz and I had went beyond baseball. Sure, I had a friendship with each of the guys in the bullpen—a good catcher didn't align himself with one, but built and nurtured relationships with all—but Cruz and I knew there was something special about our duo, and it wasn't just because we'd gone to hell and back last summer.

When Cruz was on the mound, and I was behind home plate, the game felt different. I knew what pitches to call based on how he was throwing during warmup, and he never made me chase shit out of the dirt. Truthfully, I hadn't loved the game or had as much fun as I did these past two years playing ball with him.

Maybe the scouts for the Rockies saw this. Maybe they saw something special in our dynamic that they felt could help them have a headline-grabbing first season. Still, it was unheard of for a pitcher and catcher to get recruited together because of the very reasons that made them important.

Whereas a catcher led and rallied the team, a pitcher carried the weight of the game on his shoulders. Their comfort on the mound was paramount. When Cruz was having a bad day, I knew how to pull him out of it. He performed best when I was behind home plate and we both knew it. He knew my bad days, and I knew his, and when the synergy was there, it was off the charts.

"Yeah," Coach admits, "it's a once in a lifetime request, no doubt about it. But it probably has something to do with the fact you two are the best catcher/pitcher duo in D1 and will no doubt help bring attention to their first year in MLB."

"So it's a PR stunt?" I arch a brow.

"The draft is becoming that way overall," he nods. "All that fanfare about which team picked up which players and how much they paid. But this offer doesn't appear to be about the headlines considering they want to add you to their team, not the farm division."

"Wait." I hold up my hand, this time I am the one leaning in wanting him to repeat what he just said. "Straight to the majors? No stopping in double or triple A?"

Most baseball players spendfour to five years in the minor leagues before making it the big leagues. It varies of course, with some called up earlier, and some playing for as many as ten years in the farm division. In some cases, players never make it to The Show at all.

"That's why they asked me to talk with you. It's a ticket straight to the majors. You would finish this season with Highland, then head to Tucson next February for the club's first spring training."

"And school?" I ask, curious what that would mean for the fall.

"The university will help make sure your requirements are completed between summer school and a full load next semester so that you can graduate with your classmates next spring. Schedule permitting, of course."

"So let me get this straight," Cruz says in disbelief. "With this offer, we get to finish this season, get our degrees, and play in the majors next year?"

"Yup," Coach confirms. "That ‘bout sums it up."

"Holy shit." I sit back. A degree and baseball?

I'd never heard of any player saying no to their dream of going pro to stay in school. That's why I always planned to finish getting my degree when I was done. A career in baseball wasn't forever and I didn't plan to do all this work for nothing. The fact I will be able to graduate and play pro is too good to be true.

"You don't have to make a decision yet," Coach cuts into my thoughts. "There are still a lot of details to work out. They just asked me to bounce the idea off the two of you. Knowing this is scouting season they wanted you to know their interest before the other scouts came calling."

"What do you think?" I sit back.

"It's a damn good deal." He looks at me, then Cruz. "You know I love this game. But baseball isn't forever. A degree is a great thing to have and being part of a new team…you will be part of history, that's for sure."

The three of us are quiet for a moment as his words sink in.

"Well," he slaps the arms of his chair and pushes up. "I won't keep you any longer. That's it for now."

Cruz and I push up from our chairs, each of us shaking Coach's hand before we turn for the door. "Have a good weekend. Both of you. You deserve it. And mum's the word on this to any of the other guys. Don't want to screw with the mental mojo."

We both turn and nod. "You got it coach," we say in unison.

Once we're outside, we stop at our cars parked side by side and he looks over the hood at me. "Can you believe it?"

"No," I admit. "It's ridiculous, right?"

He taps the hood of his car and laughs. "Completely."

But as he yanks open the driver's side door of his Jeep and I climb behind the wheel of my 4-Runner, another word comes to mind. Actually four—one of a kind. Sometimes, the universe knows things that we don't and I can't help but think we'd be fools not to consider it.

I think about this all the way home and when I rush down the stairs to pick up the phone and call the one person I want to tell the news to first, I remember she's not talking to me. Apparently, I hadn't broken all of my habits when it came to Jenica Miller.