Getting Lucky (The Portland Pioneers Book 2) (36 page)

Cal went brick red. “I don’t have a
thing
for her,” he spluttered. “I don’t even really like her. Despite what this whole email thing looks like.”

Maggie just smiled. “Yeah, okay. You must really loathe her.”

“I’m not going to admit that me and you dating didn’t make some sort of logical sense. It made sense then, and it still makes sense now.”

“Well, it’s better for all of us that love isn’t logical then, because we would have been a total shit couple and apparently Tabitha and Noah were too.”

Cal’s shoulders tensed and he shrugged, and Maggie reluctantly had to admit that Noah was probably right. When he’d come to town and Cal had disliked him pretty much on sight, that had probably more to do with Tabitha than Maggie.

“This is really good, by the way,” Cal said, scraping up the last of the pea puree and licking his fork. “Really, really good.”

“I know,” Maggie said.

Silence grew between them, but Maggie knew Cal well enough to know that sometimes he needed time to say what needed said.

Finally, he spoke up. “I really am sorry. I know you care about him, and he’s a good guy. I wouldn’t even mind having him around for the foreseeable future. And when she showed up. . .I felt like shit. I thought I’d ruined everything.”

“You didn’t,” Maggie interrupted because she didn’t want him to blame himself for something that had been mostly her fault. “I’m not even sure how much Noah being here figured into her decision to come.” And a thought that had never before occurred to Maggie struck her. “Do you ever. . .” She hesitated, not wanting to push this, but without a little push, Maggie wasn’t certain they’d ever get out of their own way, “do you wonder if maybe
you
were part of the reason she came back?”

Cal shook his head decisively. “I told you. We don’t even really like each other.”

“Seriously. Cal. This is me. You can be honest,” Maggie prodded, taking the dish from the counter and dropping it in the empty dishwasher basket.

He frowned. “I’m not lying to you. You know everything now.”

Maggie decided that if he was going to continue being this dense, then maybe he didn’t deserve any better. “Fine, fine. Just ignore me, then.”

“Never.” He smiled at her and reached over and gave her a big hug. “Proud of you,” he whispered into her ear. “This is a big chance and I’m glad you’re taking it.”

She squeezed him back and for the very first time in two months, things finally felt back to normal between them. “Thanks.”

Noah had been sitting out on the back porch, where the deck had begun to be framed in, for so long that he couldn’t really feel his legs. But he’d sat down this afternoon with the intention of staying where he was until he could work up the courage to make this phone call.

He thought he’d made his decision, had believed it until he had to dial his agent’s number and found he couldn’t quite make his fingers punch in the right keys. So he’d resolved that he’d sit here until he could actually pull the trigger.

The sun was starting to set across the sky when he glanced down at his phone and saw that Maggie had texted him twice, asking where he was.

And even though he’d told himself what felt like a thousand times that Maggie shouldn’t be a reason for this decision, it felt like just the reminder of her was enough to finally tip the scales. With fingers that still shook a little, he dialed his agent’s number.

Bryce picked up on the first ring. “Noah Fox, the one and only. I was wondering when I’d hear from you. How are things? See Dr. Singh lately?”

“A few weeks ago, actually.” Noah took a deep breath and felt the weight of the decision settle heavily onto his shoulders. He knew he was making the best choice he could, but that didn’t make it any easier. “I’m still not cleared. I won’t be ready for Spring Training and . . .”

“The Pioneers know that,” Bryce interrupted. “It’s fine, man. You just recover at your own pace. They’re willing to take you whenever you’re ready.”

“That’s the thing,” Noah said. “I don’t want to wait.”

“I’m afraid you don’t get a choice.” Noah hated the sympathetic tone in his agent’s voice.

“What I mean is that I don’t want to wait around, maybe forever, to get cleared. I only would have had a handful of years left anyway. What would happen if I were to. . .” Noah paused and cleared his throat. The actual words were so much harder to say that than he’d ever imagined. Telling Maggie that he loved her had been so much easier, and wasn’t it supposed to be the opposite? “If I were to retire?”

Bryce was silent, clearly speechless. And for someone who practically talked for a living, Noah knew he must have really shocked him.

Finally Bryce spoke. “Noah, I think that’s a really hasty decision. Maybe we should take a step back and consider some other alternatives.”

“Alternatives?” Noah had called up Bryce knowing perfectly well that his agent would try to talk him out of retiring. After all, Noah playing baseball was money in Bryce’s pocket.

“Management has been making noise about you seeing another concussion specialist at their facility. I was giving you a few more weeks of recovery time before suggesting it, but if you’re serious about this, maybe you should see Dr. Bolton first before we even discuss it further.”

Noah didn’t want to be poked and prodded by yet another doctor. He and Dr. Singh hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but fuck, he’d begun to actually like
the guy. They’d learned to work together, and built a relationship based on mutual trust and respect. Dr. Singh would have cleared him if he’d been able to play. Noah believed that completely.

“I’m not sure,” Noah said. “I don’t really want to see someone else.”

Bryce sighed. “I’m afraid it’s not really up to you.”

“I was afraid of that,” Noah grimaced. “This is why I want to retire. I don’t want my career to end like this. A slew of doctors and all full of bad news that I can’t change.”

“I understand, man. You got a rough deal.”
But you still have to do it
. Bryce didn’t have to say it for Noah to hear the unspoken end of that particular sentence.

“Should I set it up for this week? Or after New Year’s, maybe?” Bryce continued.

There was no way he was flying up to Portland before New Year’s—not with Maggie’s big dinner coming up. “Definitely after.”

“I’ll set it up and email you the details,” Bryce said

“While I’m up there, I want to put my condo up for sale too,” Noah said. Even if he ended up playing baseball for the Pioneers again, he had absolutely no intention of returning to that cold, barren place again. Not after he’d discovered that he hadn’t really been living before—merely existing.

“We can definitely talk about that, but wouldn’t it be better to keep it? Maybe rent it out? Real estate is a strong investment.” Bryce paused, chuckling under his breath. “Weren’t you just saying that to me a few months when you went crazy and bought that house in that tiny town?”

Noah made a face. “I didn’t go crazy.”

“Right, right,” Bryce said a little too knowingly for Noah’s comfort level. “Still, think about it. But I’ll set up an appointment with a good realtor I know. Just in case.”

“Good.” Noah didn’t trust himself to say anything more than the bare bones at this point. He was gripping his phone so hard it was probably a miracle the plastic hadn’t shattered yet.

“Why don’t I set up a dinner with Jack, too? You haven’t been back in town forever. Just me and my two favorite clients.”

Noah really wanted to tell him to quit the smooth agent act, but he kept his mouth shut. He still needed Bryce. “Sure.”

“Have you talked to Jack?”

Noah heard Bryce’s unasked question as clear as day. “Not recently.”

“He’s not going to be very happy, you know.”

An understatement of the century. The person Noah most dreaded telling about his retirement plans was Jack. “Believe me, I know.”

“You should tell him, though. Jack cares about you.”

Noah wondered if Bryce
ever
said what he really meant—it was so blatantly obvious that he thought Jack would talk Noah out of this suddenly crazy idea to retire.

“I plan on it,” Noah bit off. He’d never really
disliked
Bryce before now. He’d gone into their business association with his eyes totally open on exactly what he meant to Bryce—a whole bunch of dollar signs—but now Noah was more than a little pissed off.

“Good, good. Well, I’ll be in touch about the details of your trip to Portland.”

Noah was grateful it appeared Bryce didn’t want to make small talk any more than he did. He also knew that if he didn’t call Jack today,
now
, then Bryce would do it for him. It was becoming really clear that Bryce wasn’t going to let Noah retire without a fight.

He hung up with Bryce and decided he’d call Jack now, before Bryce could and before Noah chickened out.

“Foxy!” Jack practically yelled into his ear. “God, it’s been too long. How the hell have you been?”

“Good.” Noah thought back to Christmas Eve and the last few days and decided his statement needed a bit of revising. “Great, actually. Really, really great.”

“You pass your concussion test?” Jack asked hopefully, and of course, that was the first
thing Jack assumed when he heard how well things were going.

“Actually, no,” Noah admitted. “But that was kind of what I was calling about.”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Noah cringed and wished there was some easy way to admit this to his best friend. Some way that wouldn’t hurt like fucking hell. “I’m. . .I’m thinking. . .” he swallowed hard and kept going even though it felt like crap, “I think I might retire.”

There was silence on the line. Horrible, awkward silence.

Then Jack quietly swore. “Fuck.”

“I’m serious.”

“You really can’t be,” Jack insisted. “This is. . .I don’t know, a shitty phase. Brought on by you spending too much time in that damn town and not in Portland.”

“I hate Portland,” Noah said and it felt kind of good to admit that, finally. He’d never fit in there. He’d tried, he’d hoped, but it had never felt like he belonged. He wasn’t completely certain about Sand Point yet, but he was certain about Maggie and this was where she was.

“What the fuck is up with you?” Jack burst out, as if he’d been holding himself in before.

“I’m not going to get cleared. I’m not going to sit around and wait for it to happen and put my whole life on hold until it does. I’m going to go out and
live
.”

“And not play baseball anymore.” Jack said it like it was literally the worst thing he could ever imagine, and Noah supposed that to Jack, it was. But it wasn’t to Noah and he was sick of pretending that while he’d miss baseball, baseball was his entire life.

“It was a job, okay? I played because I was good at it and I made money and I liked it, yeah? I liked traveling with you guys, and bullshitting in the locker room and fuck, yeah, I liked winning games. That was awesome and I’m so glad I could do that. But that’s not everything to me. Not anymore.”

“Fuck,” Jack said again and he sounded absolutely despondent. “Fuck. You actually mean that.”

Noah hated to say it. He wished he didn’t have to, but then he’d always known that this phone call was always going to be harder than Bryce’s. He and Bryce had a good relationship but in the end, it was still business more than anything else; Jack was practically family. “Yeah, I do.”

“And you’re doing this.”

Noah scrubbed a hand over his face and wished that he’d been smart enough to talk to Maggie before he made this phone call. He’d known it was going to be rough, he just hadn’t had any idea
how
rough. “I mean it’s not a hundred percent decided yet. Management wants me to meet another concussion specialist and so I’m going up to Portland after New Year’s.”

“I see.” The bitter edge to Jack’s voice made it very plain that he didn’t see at all—and honestly, Noah hadn’t expected him to. Not right away. Not for a long time, actually. The Pioneers might move on, find a new center fielder, but Jack would hold on because their friendship was special. Even though they hadn’t known each other very long, sometimes Noah felt like the three years he’d been friends with Jack were maybe the three most important years of his life.

“You know. . .” Noah’s voice cracked and he swallowed hard and continued. “You know, this has nothing to do with you. I’ll still fly out to games and shit. Come see you when I can. God knows, I’m not sure what else I’ll be doing.”

“It won’t be the same,” Jack argued.

It wouldn’t be. That was a hard truth that Noah acknowledged but hadn’t had the guts to really explore yet. But regardless of whether he retired or not, it wouldn’t have been the same anyway.
Same
had been out of the discussion the moment he was hit in the head by that fastball.

“No.” There wasn’t anything Noah could say to soften that blow, either for Jack or for himself. Maybe it was better to just face up to the horrible reality of it.

“Shit.”
Noah thought that summed it up pretty well. As usual, Jack was both eloquent and abrupt, a kind of bizarre poetry that seemed to belong to only him.