Page 47 of Grand Slam

Kelton

“Congratulations,”a few of the guys say as they enter the locker room. “Or is this more of a fuck, man, I’m sorry moment?” Damon asks with a grimace.

“What the hell are you assholes talking about?” It’s never easy to tell when and if they are being serious.

We’d just finished our last and final game against New York at home and lost. Tomorrow it’s Michigan and all I kept thinking was the surprise visit home I’d planned on squeezing in somewhere. I still had to convince coach that it was an acceptable idea.

I look around the room, everyone is looking at me or not looking at me. Some were doing all they could not to make eye contact.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask, standing and looking around at all of them. “Someone mind sharing?”

Evan pulls out his phone and walks over to me, tapping a few times and then turns it so I can see the screen.

“Tennessee Terrors right fielder, Kelton James, falls into the hands of a gold digger!”

I start scrolling through the story, catching bits and pieces.

“Unknown sources confirm that Emerson Blake from Chicago has weaseled her way into Kelton’s life and now he’s trapped for good. Diapers and burp clothes are in his future.”

Quote after quote from this unknown source.

“Tampering with contraceptives in order to ensure she is financially set for life.”

My head is fucking spinning.

“What is this shit?” I ask no one in particular as I continue to scroll. “This is bullshit.”

“So your girl isn’t pregnant?” Evan asks.

“I’m talking about this gold digger and wanting fucking money. It’s crap.”

“So she is pregnant?” Tripp chuckles. To be honest I hear them all but I don’t register them. Giving Evan his phone, I grab my bag and start for the door pushing it with force. I dig my phone out and dial Emerson’s number.

Going straight to voicemail,I end the call and then dial my sister.

After the second ring she picks up but her voice is drowned out by the amount of background noise.

“Liz.” I plug my ear and pause in the hall trying to hear what she is saying. “Where is Em?”

Again nothing but noise. Frustrated I end that call too and call Gran instead.

“My sweet boy,” she says, skipping a hello. “Good game you just had. And that hit.”

“Gran,” I say, feeling like I’m running in circles and getting nowhere. “Have you talked to Emerson?”

“No.” I can hear the concern in her voice. “I dropped off some garden vegetables yesterday, but not since then. Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know.” I lean back against the wall. “There are some things going around.”

“Going around where?”

“In the tabloids,” I reply and hear her laugh.

“I don’t read the stuff, it’s all garbage. You know better than to read those things yourself.”

“But it’s about Emerson and I, and?—”

“Well, you need to go straight to her,” she says interrupting me. “I don’t care who or why, but there is only one person you should be talking to about whatever it is you’ve read.”

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