Page 27 of Base Block

“Maybe. Maybe I would be making a mistake because I don’t know enough.” He started to go back to bed, looked at his hands, and angled into the little bathroom so that he could wash them. He was drying them on his shirt when he came back out. “If I get this chance, I can’t screw it up. It’s a big if.”

“If you get this chance, it’s because the good in you is coming back around. And you won’t mess it up, either.”

“If I get it,” Callum echoed. He held out one of his hands to me, and I took it. “If I get it.”

It was probably stress that led me to have nightmares, stress but also the good news that Heidi, the kicker’s wife, was pregnant. In one dream, I was lost in Woodsmen Stadium, running through long hallways that flashed with purple and blue lights reflecting off their championship trophies and awards. Later, I was in the hospital. I knew somehow that it was the same one where my grandma had died and my aunt had also gone, although everything in it was different. I heard the sounds of babies crying and I went from room to room but I couldn’t move fast, hardly at all. I wasn’t making any progress.

I woke up out of breath, as if I really had been running. I stepped carefully over the garbage bag with Callum’s shoes and went to sit on the concrete walkway outside our room, so my crying wouldn’t wake him. He didn’t need any extra worry when he was about to find out if the biggest thing in the world was going to happen for him.

I hoped that it would. It had to, since he deserved it. It had to happen. Didn’t it?

Chapter 6

“I can do it. Let’s try again.” I took a deep breath in and breathed it out, then I wiped my fingers under my eyes. “Ok. I’m ready.”

Callum bent a little to look at me more closely, checking. “Ok,” he agreed. He reached over and hit record.

“Hi, guys!” I said, smiling at the lens. “Today is a really…oh, shoot.”

“Rainey, it’s ok,” he told me. “I’ll say it.”

He turned to the camera as I dabbed my face. “Hello, this is Callum Frazier. Usually, Rainey does most of the talking, but she keeps crying.” He looked at me and smiled. “She’s not actually sad.”

“I’m really happy,” I said, my voice cracking. I covered my face with my hands.

“Aw, Rainey.” He patted me on the shoulder. “She’s really happy that I made the Woodsmen team and tomorrow night is our first preseason game. I may not get in very much—”

“Even if you don’t, it’s so special.” I sniffed. “It’s very special.”

“Yeah, it is. I’m lucky.”

“No, they recognize talent,” I corrected.

“Ok, thank you,” he said. “Anyway, everybody watch tomorrow night as we take on the Saguaros. Rainey will stop crying by then so that she can see it, too. Go Woodsmen.”

“Go Woodsmen!” I also added, but my voice broke again. I turned off the camera.

“That’s good enough,” he said. “Don’t try to do it over.”

“I think that was great. Do you have everything you need?”

He looked over at his bag. The day before home games, the whole team went from the stadium to a hotel for the night. The next morning, they traveled back in one of their orange luxury coaches (aka, a big bus) to play. I would be staying here, in our new place—

Because everything had changed. We had seen his name listed on the roster in orange letters, which proved he was officially a Woodsmen. And as an official Woodsmen, he had received a check that was much bigger than the ones he’d received as his per diem. Both of us had stared at the balance in his account on the banking app on my phone, shaking our heads in disbelief.

That number meant that we had moved out of the motel. “They can help us with stuff,” I had said, reading an email that had come almost immediately after the team had released the roster. It was a long one with a lot of attachments. “The Woodsmen people can help find lodging, doctors, and preschools. Players can get discounts on rental cars, insurance, and printer ink. I guess they have a lot of connections with different places and we just have to ask.”

We had. I had, actually, by replying to that email with Callum leaning over my shoulder to read it. “Do we need any ink?” he’d asked as he looked at the list of “preferred providers.” Those were the companies that gave discounts to players on a ton of different products and services. “How about bicycle tires? Those Woodsmen make that much money, and they also get cheap air duct cleaning?”

“You mean us Woodsmen,” I had corrected. “There’s an oil change place that does them for free, and you do need that. And if you ever need critter removal from your attic or crawlspace, you’re covered.”

“That happened in one of the houses where I fostered,” he had remarked. “A whole family of raccoons moved in and they gave us all fleas. Does it say anything about women’s shoes?” he’d asked, peering at the list. “You need some. No, screw the discount and let’s go shopping.”

I had bought a cute pair of tennis shoes and luckily, we hadn’t gotten animals in the attic, since we hadn’t had an attic in the motel. We still didn’t, now that we’d moved out of there and into…a condo!

“Really?” he’d asked, incredulous when I had shown him the pictures I’d taken during my tour of the place. “That’s so nice. It comes with dishes?”

“A whole set.” It was furnished and also rented by the month. That meant you didn’t have to sign a lease for a whole year, when the football season only lasted for part of one. According to Heidi, who knew a lot of stuff after spending a few seasons in the sport, most of the guys on top-level teams lived only part-time in the cities where they played. After their last game, they would take vacations and then go somewhere else, usually their hometown or a place with good weather to train so they could get ready for the next season. She had laughed when I’d asked if the Woodsmen got second jobs when they moved—she just suggested that I look up their salaries.