Third Base (The Boys of Summer, #1)(67)

I can honestly say, though, that she fascinated me enough the night I met her that I would’ve tried to find out what makes her tick. She’s had me on a string from the first time I saw her.

The minister asks if anyone would like to speak. I clear my throat and stand. As I walk by Daisy, I catch the slight intake of breath come from her. I offer her a smile, only to have her turn around and look behind her. When she faces forward, tears are streaming down her face - whether they’re fresh or not, I can’t tell. I should be sitting by her side through all of this. All she had to do was ask.

“I had the privilege of meeting John a few months ago and I’m sad to say I haven’t known him long enough. He was a true fan, not only of the game of baseball, but of my personal game. He had the ability to turn what I would consider a fair game into a good game, highlighting the hidden stats of my teammates and myself.

“My short time with John will not be for naught. I’ll take with me, and cherish, everything he taught me about life, love and baseball.”

I hesitate for a moment, seeking Daisy’s request to sit by her, but she still doesn’t make eye contact with me. Her head is down and her fingers fiddle with the tissue in her hands. When I sit down, Sarah reaches for my hand and I let her take it. I have nothing to lose at this point.

A few other people get up and speak, most of them older. They recount stories from Daisy’s childhood with her parents and her grandmother, and promise to be there for her. I want to stand up and ask who is going to open their house to her because she has to move now. Where does she have to go?

When the service is over and everyone is leaving, I remain seated. “I’ll meet you in the car,” I tell Sarah who kisses me on my cheek before she leaves, handing me the ball that I put in her purse earlier. I don’t want to cause any more pain for Daisy, but I have something for John.

I go to this casket and set the signed ball from the current roster on top of his casket. I don’t know if it’ll make it inside, but I hope so.

“It didn’t take you long to move on.”

Her voice catches me off guard. I breathe in deeply and remind myself that she’s hurting and it’s easy to assume that Sarah and I are together. I decide its best that I sit down next to her so she can hear me clearly without tuning me out.

“That’s Sarah, my ex. You know about her because I told you everything about our relationship. When you didn’t show up in Cincinnati my mom knew something was up and called her. She was sitting on my steps when I came back from your apartment.”

“Oh yes, she’s your road trip hook-up.”

“That’s not fair, Daisy. I know you’re hurting right now, but Sarah isn’t to blame and neither am I.”

“You went to her apartment in Seattle?” Her broken voice tears me up on the inside. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and turn my head so I’m looking at her.

“I don’t know why you’re bringing this up now, but yes, I did. You and I had stopped talking. I was pissed.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

I shake my head. “No, but we did some other stuff until I said your name and she walked out on me. I spent the rest of the night telling my ex that I was in love with this beautiful, smart and crazy girl with an adorable accent who knew how to put me in my place.”

A sob overtakes her body. I try to reach for her but she shies away. Instead I pull her hand into mine and sit back. This should’ve been my spot from the get-go, but she refuses to allow me back in.

“Daisy, I realize this may not be the best time, but I need to say this to you. I want to figure things out between us because I’m in love with you. If you don’t love me, let me know, but if you do and want us to have a future, you know where to find me.”

I stand up and kiss her on her forehead, lingering there as long as possible before I leave her to say a private goodbye to her grandfather.





EDavenport @TheRealEthanD – 1 hour

@BoReRenBlog I miss you



It’s been a month since I saw Daisy and I have a feeling that was my last time. Each home game, I walk out of the dugout looking for her, only to find her seats empty. They remain vacant during the game, diminishing any hope I have of ever seeing her again.

When I left her at the cemetery, I thought for sure she’d call or show up. I even left my door unlocked a few times hoping I’d come home from a road trip to find her living there. It’s been a letdown each and every time. I’ve tried calling her. For a while her phone went to voicemail after four or five rings until one day the call didn’t even go through. I don’t know if she changed her number because she’s sick of me calling or what.

The only thing that hasn’t changed is her blog. It’s still up and running, reminding us of just how poorly we’re doing this year. I’ve kept her secret from the team. I figured if she wants to tell everyone that she’s the BoRe Blogger, she can do that when she’s ready. It’s not my news to share.

We’re in the middle of a long home stand, ten games until we hit the road again. The Cleveland Indians are in town and after my last at bat, we’re leading three to nothing. I thought that after the funeral my batting average would continue to suffer, but it hasn’t. I’m currently batting .320, the highest in the American League, but not in the Majors. A couple of guys in the National League are still kicking my ass. Also kicking my ass is my nervous tick. It’s back with a vengeance since Daisy and I broke up. Who knew she was the cure and now that she’s gone, it’s something I have to continue to live with?