Page 47 of Moonshot

“Sure.” Reaching into my back pocket, I hand her my phone and watch as she heads to the dugout. She’s probably letting Mom know she almost lost a digit from their special delivery. I can’t help but chuckle. If only those boys were that aggressive about the game. Wondering how I got so distracted I missed out on the cookies, I shake my head and return to my wayward ballers.

“Okay, line up. We’re going to do some more drills.”

“Ohhhh.” They all groan. I really need to get these little cookie monsters into shape if we’re ever going to win a game.

An hour later, the kids have all packed up their bat bags and are headed with their parents to their vehicles. We have little hope of winning our game on Saturday against Coach Dillon’s team, but I guess there’s always the chance this time his kids will all have strep throat instead of dysentery. If enough players don’t show up, we could win by forfeit.

But our team’s coming together. I honestly don’t want them to win that way. I’d love to see their proud, jubilant faces when they shock themselves and everyone around them with their first real win. At least the kids seem to be open to learning and participating, and they’re getting better day by day. Maybe I should bribe them. Mom makes a mean Rice Krispy treat.

“Hey, here’s your phone. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

“No problem. You doing okay, Sis? I came to visit Mom the other day, and when I left, I saw your car out front. You didn’t even come into the kitchen to say hello.”

“Oh, I’m good. Sorry about that. A friend was having relationship trouble. Guess I got caught up in it. I really wanted to help them out. You know how it is.” Again, she looks at me and shrugs as if it is no big deal, but after the way she was dancing and clapping over my finally meeting a special girl, I know these types of things are huge in her world. I forget what it’s like to be a teenager. Every moment is so dramatic. But then again, I didn’t have to deal with teenage angst and relationship drama because I was always with Paula. My teen torment didn’t hit ’til I was twenty.

“Well, you’re a good friend to try and help them through it. I hope they know that.” I put one arm around her shoulders and pull her in for a side hug.

“Yeah, I think they do. We’ll see.” Emmaleigh’s face appears downtrodden, serious.

“And I’m sorry I got your hopes up about meeting a girl, Em. Your big brother just doesn’t have the relationship gene. I think Dad leaving must’ve done a bigger number on me than I thought. It can’t all be about picking beautiful girls that end up leaving me hurt and disappointed.” The statement takes me by surprise as I complete the sentence. It feels like an out-of-body experience, watching a conversation balloon in a cartoon or comic strip. How had I not considered this before? I’d blamed all of my worries about a committed relationship on Paula.

Feeling a reassuring squeeze from her, I know she’s all too aware of the impact of his departure on my life. I’m grateful my mother and Rob are so strong. So Emmaleigh never has to suffer that rejection. It would’ve been hard enough watching my parents go their separate ways, but my father’s walking out of my life completely had caused a larger impact than I’d allowed myself to examine before.

Needing to change the somber mood, I tickle her along her ribcage where I know she’s sensitive, as only a big brother can. She checks me with her hip, laughs, and turns to head for her car. “Don’t be a stranger, Mick. I miss you when you’re not around.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Em. I’ll do better. Just had a lot on my plate lately.”And on my mind.“Hey, tell Mom thanks for the cookies. Maybe next time, I might actually get one.” I chuckle.

I watch her wave and walk ahead of me while I gather up the remaining things the boys have left. She’s a good egg. The conversation sitting in the kitchen with my mom the other day quickly springs to mind.If I’d done as you’re suggesting, I wouldn’t have found Rob, and we wouldn’t have Emmaleigh.I couldn’t imagine life without that sassy kid. She means everything to me. Mom’s right. Maybe one day, I’ll need to try again. Just not any time soon.

Ava

It’s officially been a month since I’ve seen or heard from Michael. I still can’t believe how wrong I was about him. He honestly seemed so different. Genuine. After taking a chance on him, my way of life went from an acceptable reality of ‘table for one’ to utter heartbreak in an instant.

I thought my existence was fine before. Sure, nothing exciting. But I dated on occasion. My friends kept me in stitches. I enjoyed my job when I didn’t want to stab Dr. Stark with my splinting sheers. Now all I can think about is what is missing.

In retrospect, I’m sure Michael is just like all the others. For whatever reason, I appear to be a challenge to some men. It’s predictable, really. Once they’ve slept with me, it’s over. For some, it lasts a while. We hang out with their friends or coworkers. Do the rounds of being seen together. But in my experiences, they’re more subtle about the cut and run.

For most, their calls started to trail off, or they became busier. ‘Sorry, can’t make it. Something’s come up.’ Or the ‘I’ve met someone’ excuse or ‘it just doesn’t seem to be working out.’ But I’ve never been completely ghosted before.

I can hear his voice mocking me. ‘Do you want to get a hotel?’ It was probably all planned from the get-go. And I fell for it. He was one master player, all right. And I don’t mean the baseball variety.

But boy, did he use that game to his advantage. And I fell into it hook, line, and sinker. Teaching me everything about the sport he loved. It had endeared me to him. Trying so hard to bring me into his world. I should’ve known once he dropped the dirty talk, it was all part of his master plan. It was just setting the stage for his end game.

Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling me I really do need to get another job. I’ve been looking, but orthopedic physician assistant jobs don’t appear to be that plentiful. I could transition to a different field of medicine, like the emergency room. But I’m good at orthopedics. It makes me angry to think I need to look for another job because of a man. No, two men. One Iknewwas an asshole but thought I could tolerate so that I could continue working at a job I otherwise enjoyed. However, the other completely broadsided me. It’s still beyond comprehension that things had gone so wrong with him. Hell, I used to look forward to seeing him for those precious moments every few weeks.

The night of the dinner lecture had been about as bad as it could get. The stress from realizing my messages to Mick were now being blocked combined with the oh-so, enjoyable company of Joseph Stark intensified my already present headache. It became an unrelenting migraine of epic proportion about two-thirds of the way through the evening.

My mother quickly met me at the restaurant after my S.O.S. and drove me to the ER for treatment before taking me home. It was a long evening. The emergency room was full, and we had to wait in the waiting room for several hours before being placed in a room. But even without working in medicine, knowing my headache was miserable but not a life threat like a stroke or a heart attack reminded me I was waiting behind people who needed care sooner than I did. I tried to encourage my mother and hold back my tears, as I know that logic is hard to wrap your head around when the child you love is suffering.

Once I was evaluated and an intravenous line was placed to provide medication and fluids, things started to ease quickly. Yet, as the pain medication kicked in, I realized the crying was from the pain in my heart, not my head. How had I let this guy infiltrate my soul to this degree? I thought I was better about protecting myself after all of these years. I guess being human has its limitations.

I managed to get through the following day and then slept most of the weekend. I’ve had moderate headaches three days out of the week since that time, but nothing as bad as that Thursday. I’m making getting back to meditation and yoga a big priority.I just need to keep my eyes peeled on the front of the class from now on.

Looking down at my salad, I pick at my lunch. My mind goes back to the Caesar salad speed date I’d had with Michael in this office when we had our first kiss. God. Despite all that’s happened, it makes me a little mad that I still miss him. I can’t eat. My heart hurts. The man I was falling in love with apparently only wanted one thing. Well, he got it, and just like all the rest, he’s gone in search of something better. What had the iceman said? No entanglements. I guess he tried to warn me. Even if a lot of it in hindsight seems like double talk.

Dropping my head in my hands, I pray for a miracle. A new job, my migraines to give me a break, and some type of magic memory serum that would erase the thoughts of Mick from my mind.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

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