Page 42 of Spotlight
We pass each other, but he calls after me.
“Nice pitching today. Your delivery has improved, and you did a great job controlling the inside fastball. You’re finding your place out there, and the whole team looks better for it.”
I pause, looking back at him. “How long have you been with the Mustangs?”
“Longer than you’ve been alive probably.” He grins.
“It’s the baby face. I’m not that young.”
“Uh-huh.”
Who am I kidding? He probably knows exactly what day and year I was born.
“Did you ever play or coach?” I ask him.
He nods. “I played as a kid. Nothing serious. I spent a couple of years on the pitching staff here a long, long time ago. Another lifetime.”
“I knew it.”
His brows lift as an amused expression plays over his face.
“It’s the way you talk about it. Most people don’t really understand pitching mechanics, not that they need to.”
“When you’ve been around as long as I have, you’re bound to pick up a few things,” he says.
Nah, it’s more than that. I’ve had actual coaches that seem less insightful than him. Or maybe it’s just that sweet grandpa look about him that makes me want to listen.
“What happened?” I shift my bag and wait for his reply.
“Had a daughter. The apple of my eye.”
Okay. Not what I expected.
“And?”
His smile widens. “That’s it. I didn’t want to spend as much time away from home anymore. The travel life can be hard. Gone two or three nights a week for nine months out of the year. It wasn’t for me.”
He’s not wrong, but I can’t believe he’d give it up just like that. People would kill for a coaching job with a major league team, even this one.
“Of course, things were different then,” Earl says. “We didn’t have cell phones and video calls. It’s easier to stay connected now.”
“She must be grown up. Why not get back to it?”
He shakes his head as he wipes down the spot where the placard will go above my locker. “Too much time away from it. Things have changed. I don’t know the latest trends and advice. Plus, who’d keep this place up?”
I chuckle softly and watch him as he removes the back of the placard to stick it in place. I like Earl and he’s right, this old stadium would probably look a hell of a lot worse without his meticulous care. Still, it feels like a shame that he gave up that sort of position and now cleans up after everyone.
“Thanks for the placard,” I say to him.
He glances quickly at me, smiling still. “See you tomorrow, kid.”
* * *
I push out the back door into the parking lot. The sun is at that perfect level where it’s impossible to look up without squinting. I pull my cap down farther to cover my eyes and head in the general direction of my truck, staring at the pavement as my feet eat up the distance.
I glance up as I get closer, gaze landing on my truck and then the vehicle parked next to it. Pausing, I squint harder.
Either I’m seeing a mirage in the desert or Olivia is here to see me. If it’s the former, I hope I die of dehydration before she disappears.
