Until There Was You(111)

CORDELIA. THE BEST NAME EVER.

The only time she’d ever loved her name before was when Liam said it. Now, though…now everything was quite different. Cordelia Wilhelmina Osterhagen. Sounded rather regal.

Stacia had stuffed her with some cold sausage and cheese, as well as a couple of boiled potatoes, but as Posey headed for the baseball field, she felt light. She may not have gotten The Meadows, she may never weigh more than a hundred and seven pounds or really need to wear a bra. Her house might in fact be past redemption, and her hair would never behave. She seemed incapable of attracting a man who saw her as a potential wife, and her truck’s muffler needed fixing.

But her mother loved her. Both her mothers. And Max, and Henry, and Jon and Brianna and maybe even Gretchen and a whole host of other people.

She was blessed. It wasn’t a word she thought often, but today, nothing else would do.

Cordelia. What a great name.

“Hey, guys,” she said, as she got to the dugout.

“Hey, Posey,” Bruce answered, stretching out his arms.

“Today’s your day,” Jerry said.

“Well, you’re a minister, so you have to be optimistic,” Posey said, punching him fondly on the shoulder.

“Get ready for some heat,” the good reverend returned. “Lift thine eyes and watch as I smite mine enemies with my mighty curveball.”

“You go, Rev,” said Kate. She thumped Posey on the back, causing Posey to stagger forward. “You done sulking?” she asked in a lower voice.

“Yes,” Posey answered.

Jon gave her a hug. “How are you, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Looking forward to my niece,” she said.

“And the heartbreak?” His eyes were full of sympathy.

“I’m really okay,” she answered firmly.

Stubby’s Hardware began trickling into their dugout, and Posey felt Liam before she actually saw him. Her skin tingled, and heat rushed to her face. Yep. There he was, dark and beautiful, his face somber. He looked over at her, and their eyes locked, and even across the baseball diamond, she could feel that tug, that warm, almost uncomfortable pulling. Then he gave a nod and turned away. Kylie Duchamps, who had recently joined Stubby’s team, stumbled (probably faked it, Posey thought), and sure enough, Liam reached out and grabbed her elbow. Kylie gave her patented hair toss and whinnied with laughter.

It was okay, Posey thought. That empty spot in her heart would fill in. She’d get over Liam Murphy. She would.

“Batter up!” the umpire called.

A typical game, a beautiful spring afternoon. Posey glanced at the stands—there were her parents, and Stacia gave her an almost shy wave, though it had been fifteen minutes since they parted. They sat with Shirley Schmottlach, who waved merrily (she often brought a flask of peppermint schnapps to these games), and Brianna and James, whose heads were almost touching as they looked at something on James’s phone. Nicole Murphy was there as well, sitting next to Henry, who was reading, as usual.

“Hi, Posey!” the girl called. Nice, that Liam’s daughter came to see her dad play. She seemed like such a good kid. Then again, with her parents, how could it be any different?

Posey waved to her cheering section. She didn’t look at Liam. Not a lot, anyway. It was a little difficult to avoid, since she was the catcher. “Hey,” he said as he came up to the plate in the top of the first.

“Hi, Liam.” Her voice was pleasant. Hopefully, her face mask hid the blush that was burning its way up from her chest.

The first pitch came, Liam swung. Fly ball…Jon only had to open his glove to catch it. In the two games they’d played against Stubby’s, Posey had yet to see Liam pop up—his batting average was even higher than Bruce Schmottlach’s. But he was already trotting back to the dugout before Jon had even tossed the ball back to Jerry.

Liam lined out to first base out in the third inning, grounded out in the fifth, and popped out again in the eighth. First-pitch swings, all, and Posey knew it was his way of getting out of her vicinity as fast as possible.

Posey herself struck out in the second, the fifth and the seventh. Those batting lessons from Liam, while arousing, hadn’t done squat. Still, each time she went down swinging.

“You’ll get there, sweetheart,” Max said, lowering his large video camera.

“Any decade now,” Brianna called, getting a grin from James.

“Nice swing, Posey,” Nicole added. Yep. Great kid.

“Thanks, guys!” she said. There weren’t a lot of other parents here, that was for sure, and Posey grinned as she walked back to the dugout. Not many people with a .000 batting average had a fan club, but she did.

Still, her heart ached every time she caught a glimpse of Liam. She tried to ignore it.

By the bottom of the ninth inning, the score was 14-1, Stubby’s. Liam was the only one on his team who hadn’t scored. The reverend’s curveball wasn’t quite the mighty sword he’d envisioned, whereas José Rivera was pitching for Stubby’s and looking about as good as Mariano, his famous third cousin. Kate had belted a solo homer in the second, but that was Guten Tag’s only run of the night. But José was tiring, and Jon had singled and Bruce walked. Two outs, and Posey was up.

As she walked to the batter’s box, she saw Kylie packing up her gear. Indeed, most of Stubby’s assumed the game was about to end, chattering and shuffling and checking their phones. Only Liam still sat on the bench, arms folded over his chest. He glanced at her, and the corner of his mouth pulled up just a little. Then his gaze dropped to the ground.