Page 24 of Pitching for Keeps
"Is that..." He steps closer, voice strange. "Is that from my no-hitter?"
"I can explain," I say weakly.
"You kept it. You kept all of it."
"I know it's weird?—"
"I have a box too," he says.
I blink. "What?"
"In my apartment. Your journalism clips. The program from when you won that award. A ticket stub from that concert we went to junior year." He picks up a photo of us at the baseball banquet. "That rubber bracelet you made me wear for good luck until it fell apart."
"You... kept things?"
"Everything I could." He looks at me, eyes soft. "I told myself I'd throw it out when I got called up. Then I told myself I'd throw it out when I found someone else. Then I just... stopped lying to myself about why I kept it."
Megan makes a small sound and slips out of the room. We barely notice.
"This is embarrassing," I say, gesturing at the evidence of my obsession.
"This is everything," he corrects. "Tracy, do you know how many times I've wanted to call you? How many times I've written texts I didn't send?"
"Why didn't you?"
"Because you made your choice. You chose your life over us. I had to respect that."
"I chose your dreams over my heart," I correct. "And I've regretted it every day since."
He crosses to me in two strides. "Tell me you still have the jersey."
"It's in my suitcase."
"The Future Mrs. Talley one?"
I nod, not trusting my voice.
"Go get it."
"Jay—"
"Please. Go get it."
I practically run back to the house, Megan trailing behind me, Jay following in his car. I burst into the guest room and dig through my suitcase until I find it—soft and worn from too many nights of sleeping in it.
Jay's waiting in the foyer when I come back down, the jersey clutched to my chest.
"Let me see," he says gently.
I hold it up. The "Future Mrs. Talley" is fading just a little but still quite visible. His number 22 still part of my best memories.
"Put it on," he says.
"What?"
"Put it on. Please."
I pull it over my bridesmaid dress, probably ruining my hair. It still fits perfectly. Still smells faintly of baseball field and memories.
