Play Along(123)

I try not to think too far into everything I could be giving up. My brother is here. My nephew. My teammates. My coach. The list goes on.

I’ll spend my off-season in Chicago, be able to see everyone then. But the one person I can’t give up is Kennedy, and I just hope she’s not planning to give up me.

It’s with that thought that Monty’s door flies open and Kai comes storming into the room.

“What the fuck is going on, Isaiah?”

“Sit down. Chill out.” Monty’s tone holds no room for argument. “Let the guy explain himself.”

And so I do. I tell my brother everything I told Kennedy. Everything I explained to Monty. I watch the frustration on Kai’s face begin to melt away, replaced instead with a bit of sadness, but mostly understanding. I watch as the anger he had turns to sympathy for my situation.

“Well, fuck,” he exhales, sinking into the couch next to me.

“Don’t be pissed at me.”

He shakes his head “I’m not, Isaiah. All I’ve wanted my entire life is for you to be happy. And I know that’s why you fake that shit-eating grin sometimes because you don’t want me to worry about you.” He pauses with a sigh. “But just because I’m not happy about this doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you.”

“It’s just . . . you did a lot for me. You gave up a lot for me, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m leaving you.”

“I made a decision about my career that’s best for my family. I can’t blame you for doing the same.” He smacks my leg. “And shit, I’m retiring. You know how much time I’m about to have on my hands to come see you? We’ll make it work. You never have to worry about that.”

I nod in agreement.

“You two hanging here for a while?” Monty asks.

“Is that okay?”

“Of course. I’ll order us some dinner.”

Monty’s off the couch with his phone in his hand, leaving my brother and me alone.

There’s a heavy silence before Kai speaks up again. “Mom would be proud of you.”

I nod quickly, clearing my throat to unclog the emotion stuck there.

“And I am too.”

Monty orders enough Chinese takeout to cover his dining room table. The three of us spend the night hanging out, eating dinner, and watching today’s game highlights from around the league. We don’t talk about the possibility of me leaving. We don’t talk about Kennedy, but for the first time ever, I also don’t pretend I’m okay.

I spend the entire evening without a smile on my face, and it’s nice in a way, to not be okay. Freeing, even.

But regardless of the distraction, there’s only one question repeating in my mind and that’s me wondering what the hell I’m going to do if Kennedy doesn’t want me to go with her.



There’s no rain tonight.

Just the rumblings of thunder and the flashes of accompanying lightning.

It’s a dry thunderstorm and if it didn’t freak me the fuck out, I might be able to find the beauty in it. Purple streaks paint the sky. Bright light beams behind the iconic buildings of the Chicago skyline.

But it doesn’t lessen the anxiety. Like some kind of switch, it revs me up, forcing my heart rate to jump, encouraging my nerves to fire.

As much as I love this place, maybe leaving the Midwest wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I wonder if Northern California deals with random summer storms like these.

It’s part of the reason I didn’t go to family dinner tonight. I knew the storm was rolling through, but even more so, I knew her absence would’ve been impossible for me to ignore. It’s hard enough going to sleep each night, knowing she’s not in my bed, let alone sitting around a dinner that finally felt complete because she was there.

It’s been two nights since I’ve seen her. Been two nights since I’ve even heard from her.

We had the entire day off from the field yesterday, so I didn’t get the chance to run into her in the training room. Today though, today she called in sick to Sunday morning batting practice.

She’s never, not once, called in sick to work.

And that scares the hell out of me because I know she’s not.

She’s in that apartment, packing her bags, and I’m just sitting around waiting to find out if I’m going too.

I know I told her to take the weekend, but there’s a huge part of me that didn’t believe I wouldn’t hear from her for two full days. And the more time apart, the more I fear that the decision she’s coming to is the one that doesn’t include me.

I felt sick to my stomach getting those divorce papers drafted, but that will be nothing in comparison to how I’ll feel if she actually signs them.

Yes, I want her to have a choice, but that doesn’t mean I’m not entirely desperate for her to choose me.

Another boom of thunder rattles my windows, and it takes everything in me not to reach for my phone to call her. To call Kai. To call each and every one of my friends.

But I told my brother not to check in on me tonight. I need to challenge myself and I’m not going to get any better if I continue to allow either of us to enable my anxious thoughts.

But fuck, if it’s not difficult sitting back and simply hoping that Kennedy isn’t out driving tonight.