Page 71 of Off the Trail

“Come say hi to the guys. Tell them they got this. Seriously, it’ll make all the difference.”

The locker room is the usual buzz of energy, pheromones, and chatter, but it quiets some when I walk in behind Jett.

“Dude, it’s Camden,” Amos Gutierrez, outfield, says. “What are you doing here, boss?”

“Just came to tell you guys to give ’em hell,” I say.

“What are you wearing?” Dan Mackenzie asks, staring at my work boots and my dirt-streaked jeans. I still haven’t had time to change.

“I picked up a construction job,” I say. “You know, something to pay the bills.”

Dan cracks an uncertain grin, as if he’s not sure if I’m joking or not. “Well, good to have a fallback. This might be it for us, man.”

“This isn’t it. You guys are going all the way.”

He shakes his head, and there’s some grumbling from along the bench. “Don’t know, man. We’re not hitting good—the stuffed shirts don’t know what they’re doing. They let go of Robbie and Mack.”

Two of the best hitting coaches I’ve ever worked with. “I didn’t know.” On the way from the airport, I’d tried to catch the highlights of the playoff games I missed while I was busy with other things, like dating Blaze and working on his house. Our pitchers have been keeping it together and the fielding’s working. It’s definitely hitting that’s been holding them back.

“Look, guys,” I say, raising my voice so everyone can hear, “I don’t have any special sauce, but I remember that game against Cleveland when we were down by four and we needed to get on the board, just get on the board. And Mackenzie stepped up, got on base, and then Romero did, and Pinto got a walk and then⁠—”

“And then you swatted ’em all in with a homer they’re still looking for with a telescope,” Jett says, finishing the story for me.

I remember that feeling. The feeling of hitting a grand slam when your team needs it the most. The best feeling in the world. That’s the feeling I was afraid I’d never have again—the feeling of helping out the team when they need it most.

But I got that feeling working on Blaze’s house with the crew. I got it when Blaze was down and needed someone—no, needed me—to talk to.

And I’m getting it here, all those eyes on me, looking to me like I have the meaning of life all wrapped up in a bow to hand them. Well, I don’t. But I can give them hope.

“That’s all you need to do tonight. Just get on the board. One man at a time. And pretty soon, that’s going to add up to a win. And another win. And another, until you all have a championship series to add to your wall.”

I believe they can do it, but I won’t be a part of their win. My time’s up.

Chapter 31

Blaze

Nolan and I stay at the pizza place long enough for the TV over the bar to show the Laurels taking a six-nothing lead. I drop him at the retreat, since he lives in an apartment in the main lodge building.

He gives me a stilted salute as he hops out of the truck. “Uh, thanks for the company,” he says stiffly, as if we haven’t just spent three relatively pleasant hours together.

I laugh. “See you, Nolan.”

I’m so used to spending evenings at cabin three I almost head there next, but then I remember Shawn’s not there. I go home, feeling sorry for myself.

Misty’s snoozing in her bed by the hearth. Brooke must have started a fire earlier, but only embers remain.

“Hey, wasn’t expecting you tonight,” my sister says, walking in from the direction of her room. We’ve been trading off dog duty, and it’s only been slightly awkward to acknowledge that we’re each getting some when we’re staying over at our respective boyfriend’s places.

“Yeah, well, Shawn’s gone.” I sound more pissed than forlorn, which is good for my pride, at least. I turn on the TV to catch the post-game wrap-up. The Laurels have tied the series by winning seven to two. One more win and they’ll be championship bound. I hope Shawn’s happy. I flick off the TV and check my phone, but no new texts since the one saying he landed.

“Gone? Where did he go?” Brooke asks.

“Hartford. The Laurels game. Do you want some tea?” I go to the kitchen and get out a box of herbal tea Brooke keeps for when she has difficulty sleeping. Usually I’m out like a light, but somehow I feel like I’m going to have a restless night.

“He went all the way to Connecticut for a baseball game?”

“They’re his team.” And the pull of that will always be stronger than whatever I can offer him up here in the middle of nowhere, Maine.