Page 52 of Grand Slam

Strangers, people I’ve known my entire life, all accepting the possibility that I could be doing exactly as the articles say.

It’s disturbing.

Even my own mother called me after an old friend of hers called when she’d heard the news. The conversation started out, honey, please tell me it’s not true.

That’s how it works, guilty and then you spend the next however long trying to convince others you’re not. In the end, no matter how hard you tried, there will always be those that have it stuckin their heads that you are guilty. Those people will always be the ones that remind others of what you did, or what you were accused of doing. Continuing to sprinkle that doubt around like glitter and reminding people of this very moment. That’s what kept me awake last night.

The fact that my child in the eyes of others may be considered the baby that trapped Kelton.

It sickens me.

But no matter how much I tossed, Kelton was right there to soothe me. Holding me close, kissing my temple, and shushing me back to sleep. A gentle rub of my arm or the way he’d lay his palm over my stomach and nuzzle my neck. Each time reminding me that he was there and he’d do whatever he could do to make things right.

But he is not a superhero with superpowers. He can’t make it all disappear, he can’t erase the minds of the world. This wasn’t a rumor going around town, this was headlines going around the world. When something happens in the lives of professional athletes, it was never private.

“You ready?” My body jerks in reaction to Kelton’s voice. I quickly stand trying to hide the fact that I’d about jumped out of my skin, but he’d already noticed. Moving in close, he places his hands on my hips and slouches enough that we are face to face. He’s got several inches on me, and normally I’m even with his chest, yet he is looking me directly in the eyes.

“Talk to me,” he insists and instantly the words start to roll off of me in a wave.

“This is a bad idea, there are people that still haven’t read the story but the minute they hear my name or see me at your side,the person next to them that has read it is going to say hey did you see this. I’ll be sitting at your game and when people in the stands should be focusing on the score, they’ll instead be reading how I’ve ruined your life. The next thing I know I’ll be in the headlines again. Pregnant gold digger already securing tickets to the game. What’s next a new house? Oh wait, he’s got that. Where’s the car and the huge diamonds? I’m not sure I’m ready for more criticism, I don’t think my heart can take it.”

“No one is going to be thinking you’re a gold digger that poked holes in condoms after today,” he assures me, pulling me in for a hug.

“Everyone is thinking that.”

I wish I had his confidence, but I’m still reliving last night and that was only a restaurant with about fifty people. I can’t imagine what it will be like in the stands at a baseball game with thousands.

Within an hour we are in Liz’s SUV on the road toward Michigan. We could have flown, but Kelton would be flying out with his team after their three day stretch and we’d drive back to Chicago.

We were moving, but we still had packing to do and things to finalize.

Granny June is in the back with Liz, I’m in the front passenger seat, and Kelton is behind the wheel. I have my earbuds in, my head resting on a pillow as I scroll through Instagram. I’m not really seeing or reading much of anything, just trying to absorb the anxiety running though me.

An alert pops up with a news break and my stomach tightens immediately. I’d forgotten until right then that I’d had the alertssets for Kelton. It’s been that way for years and I hate now that I’ve never changed that.

I fight the urge, knowing it’s nothing I need to see, but curiosity gets the better of me and I’m dragging down the upper bar and clicking on the alert.

"The one that got away once, but never again.”

My heart races as I read an article. The article goes on about how I’d been a lifelong friend turned more. But life got in the way when Kelton moved to Nashville to play for the Terrors.

There’s more about our younger years and how we’ve now recently reconnected.

My eyes cloud with tears as I read on.

The article labels me as the only woman Kelton James has ever loved. The one, it calls me, recanting the early statements that I’m a gold digger. This paints me in an entirely different light.

And I can barely breathe.

Looking over at Kelton he glances in my direction and then down to my phone. “Did you do this?”

He glances up in the rearview mirror and I too look into the back. Both Liz and Gran are smiling.

“These pictures.” I scroll, seeing some from more than ten years ago. Me on Kelton’s shoulders at a football game holding a banner while Liz is on the shoulders of her then boyfriend holding the opposite side. I’m smiling, so is Kelton, it’s a reminder of just how long we’ve been in each other’s lives.

More pictures follow.

One of me sleeping with my head on Kelton’s shoulder right before he left for Tennessee. And some more recent ones, up until the weekend we were in St. Louis. His arms around me, his lips pressed to mine.

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