Throw the Fastball: April May Snow (My psychic ghost-filled life Book 6) by M. Scott Swanson

Author:M. Scott Swanson [Swanson, M. Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creative Chaos
Published: 2020-02-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Shelley opens the clubhouse door. “Cover them up if you’re shy, boys.”

We step into the clubhouse. Shelley immediately peels off and begins talking with the trainers and managers. With the terrible injury to one of their outfielders, I’m sure some significant depth chart juggling will need to be discussed.

I spy Jair shirtless with jeans on in front of his dressing area. His dark Tiger Eye amulet is prominent against his light-brown chest. “You played a good defensive game, Jair.”

His face stretches into a colossal smile. “That’s what happens when they don’t lock the door. All sorts of people get in here.”

I thumb over my shoulder. “Well, I can leave.”

“Do what you want. But I would prefer it if you’d stay,” Jair says as he pulls on his shirt.

Darn.

“Is Roger getting treatment?” I ask.

Jair points to his right. “Nah. They sent him to the clubhouse after they pulled him. He’s in the shower now.”

“Is he all right. I mean, that’s got to be disappointing.”

Jair shrugs. “He’s not happy about it, that’s for sure. He’s an incredible talent, but these constant late-inning runs being given up don’t bode well for him. I have to admit it’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen. A lot of these batters lighting him up are just scrubs. It’s like they know exactly what he’s going to pitch.”

“He’s not going to lose his job, is he?” Trisha asks.

Jair favors her with a lopsided smile. “And burn a first-round draft pick? No, he’s safe for a while.”

Roger comes out of the shower with a towel around his waist. I notice more than I should, showing through his thin, terrycloth towel. I force myself to look away.

“Trisha! This is a great surprise.” He gives her a sideways hug with one arm as he holds his towel with the other. “Give me a minute to get dressed, will ya?”

“You really did good,” she says.

His ears turn red. “Until I didn’t.”

“How was the box seating?” Jair asks.

“It was great. Tasty food, good company, and the best view in the stadium. But I have to tell you the coolest was being on the field and looking up at the full stands. I can’t imagine what it’s like to pitch in a stadium like this.”

Jair slides his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. “Pitch?” He slips a bracelet on his left wrist. “I thought you were going to say run the bases.”

“I was an okay baserunner. But I was a great pitcher.”

He stares at me with an incredulous smile.

“What, you don’t believe me?” I dare him.

“I didn’t say that.” Jair shrugs. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing a demonstration rather than listen to you brag.”

“Oh! Really, Mr. Cocky?”

“Me cocky? You’re the one claiming to be the big-time pitcher.” Jair reaches deep into the top crevice of his dressing cubicle. “I’m just saying seeing is believing.” He pulls out a well-worn glove and a scuffed baseball. He holds them out to me.

I hand him my pink Pufferfish cups. He puts them on his shelf as I slide my left hand into the glove.

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