The Dugout(92)

“But I was happy, I didn’t need him to—” My throat tightens and I quickly stand. Fuck. Why? Why do that, Dad? “I, uh . . . I need to take a walk.”

“Carson, sweetie, please don’t be upset.”

“What’s there to be upset about?” I ask, sarcasm laced with every word. “My dad had a stroke so I could be happy. How could I possibly be upset over that?”

Guilt consumes me. I leave the hospital room and turn down an empty hallway where I crash against the wall and fall to the floor, knees propped up, my head buried in my hands.

He kept sending me money when I didn’t need it.

He kept working when he could have asked for help.

He had a stress stroke trying to keep me happy.

It’s too fucking much.

Why the fuck did he do that?

Had I been so fucking entitled that he felt he had no choice?

I stifle a sob, but I can’t do anything about the tears that start to stream down my cheeks. Why, Dad? Why?

And for the first time since my mom passed away, I cry.





Holt: Hey brother, I’m thinking about you. If you need anything, please let me know.

Gunner: The team sent some flowers. I told them whiskey would be better, but Coach wouldn’t go for it. Thinking of you, man.

Knox: Fucking hell, Carson. I can’t stop thinking about you and your dad. Please let me know if I can do anything. I’m stapled to my team right now, but even if you need me for a second, I’ll be on a plane faster than you can blink and back in time for my game.

Jason: Badcock wants to send you a text. I told him to write you a card and gave him the address to a local Dunkin’ Donuts. You’re welcome. Miss you, man.

Romeo: Room check. It’s all clear. No motherfucker has even stepped a foot near your door. I’m on the prowl, don’t worry. I got your back. Take care of Pops.

Cory: It’s not much, but I sent some catering (Tex-Mex) to the nursing staff on your dad’s floor. I told them it’s for taking care of Carson Stone’s dad. Please make sure you grab yourself a plate. Hang in there, brother.

Milly: How’s it going? I don’t want to bother you with texts, but I also want you to know I’m thinking about you. XOXO





Milly: The boys are prepped and ready for regionals. I caught a practice today thanks to Jason. Badcock wasn’t terrible, but he wasn’t Carson Stone, that’s for damn sure.

Jason: BADCOCK strikes again! The motherfucker hit me in the head with his bat in the dugout. Thank fuck I was wearing my helmet. Coach told him to pull his head out of his ass and pay attention.

Milly: I miss you. All you need to do is give me the go-ahead and I’ll be there in a flash.

Cory: Analysts have you in top ten draft picks for the first round. You’re going places, dude. Thought you might need some good news. Let me know if you need anything.

Milly: I ate a package of pretzel M&M’s today. I know, sad face, but I can’t have caramel without you. Even though pretzel is good, it’s just not the same.

Romeo: I saw a freshman look like he was approaching your room and I ran into his ankles with Gunner’s remote-control car. He screamed bloody murder and fell to the ground, saying he was going to the bathroom, but I didn’t believe him. He was going for your goods.

Knox: Top ten draft pick! Fuck, I knew you’d make a great comeback from the injury. I’ll be watching like a hawk to see where you end up. Bobbies for life, baby!

Knox: Also, let me know how your dad is when you get a chance.

Jason: Matt has a wicked bruise on his ankle from Romeo nailing him with the remote-control car. I can’t stop laughing every time I see him getting it treated by a trainer. Missing you, man.

Cory: How do you feel about playing for the Storm? I’m trying to convince the head office to make you an offer.





Knox: Haven’t heard from you. Everything okay? Give me a call, man. I’m off today.

Jason: Headed to regionals. Tomorrow is the big day. Draft day! How’s your dad doing? Haven’t heard anything from you, just checking in.

Milly: Hey, if you get a chance, just let me know that you’re okay. I can’t imagine what you’re going through but no one has heard from you and we’re all getting a little nervous. Just send one of us a text, okay?

Jason: Dude, please let us know everything is okay.

Romeo: Carse, man. You okay?

Knox: Heard from Jason. Asking if I’ve heard from you. We love you, man. Can you just let one of us know if you’re okay?

Milly: Regionals and draft today. Please let me know if you’re holding up. I’ve called a few times. I just want to make sure you’re not alone. I’m always here for you.

Milly: Carson?

Milly: Please call me.

Milly: Carson . . . please answer.





The silence in the room weighs heavily on my shoulders as the beep of my dad’s machines are the only thing reminding me of what I’m facing.

Aunt Carol sniffles next to me, her hand looped through my arm, her head connecting with my shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” Dr. Turnblad says, shifting on his feet. “I wish I had a better outcome for you.”

My lip quivers and my stomach rolls as I try to hold it together, but I’m having one hell of a time staying strong.