Making a Comeback by Kristina Mathews

Annabelle’s laughter behind him as he picked up the ball. He brushed the sand off on his shorts and then prepared to throw a baseball for the first time since his surgery. For the first time since he’d blown out his shoulder in that disastrous appearance in St. Louis.
    Okay, so a soft toss into the glove of a six-year-old was hardly the same as the mid-nineties fastball he’d wielded so effectively in his prime. But if he couldn’t get past his mental block, his prime was over. His career would be over.
    He held the ball, feeling the raised stitches as he turned it over in his palm, trying to find the right grip. He glanced over at Annabelle who watched with hopeful anticipation. She reached up and touched her own stitches, almost subconsciously, as if she didn’t realize she was doing it.
    Cooper tossed the ball softly to Sophie. It landed in her glove and she clapped her hand over it.
    “I caught it.” She squealed in delight. “I caught it. Did you see that, Mommy? I caught it.”
    Annabelle clapped and watched Sophie throw the ball back to him. This time she underthrew it and he had to lunge forward to snag it just before it hit the sand.
    “That’s great, honey.” Annabelle praised her daughter’s triumph. What she didn’t realize was that it was an even bigger accomplishment for him.
    A few more tosses back and forth, and he no longer felt like a fraud. He could pick up a ball and his arm didn’t fall off. His head didn’t explode, and an angry mob didn’t come after him with pitchforks calling him names.
    Cheater . Imposter . Loser .
    “Can I play, too?” Olivia abandoned her sandcastle and picked up her pink glove. Soon they were engaged in a three-way toss. Eventually the two girls became more comfortable playing with each other and he faded into the background.
    He stood there marveling at the joy the two of them found in a simple game of catch. It wasn’t about money or fame or winning at all costs. It was about having fun. They were playing ball. Something he’d forgotten how to do a long time ago.
    Baseball had once been something he played. Because it was fun. It got him out of the house. Away from his father’s anger, his sister’s nagging, and the fear that he’d somehow been the reason his mother had left.
    At some point, baseball had become more than a game. It had become his ticket to making something of himself. It had been a long shot, but for someone like him, it had been everything.
    And he’d pissed it away.
    “It’s hot.” Sophie drew her gloved hand across her forehead. “Can we go in the water?”
    “Yeah, can we?” Olivia hadn’t been playing as long, but she seemed just as eager to cool off.
    It had to be at least seventy degrees out. Not exactly sweltering, but warm enough to dip their toes in the water.
    “Sure. Just don’t go in too deep,” Annabelle warned.
    They dropped their gloves and the ball on the beach blanket and dashed off toward the water.
    * * * *
    “Would you like to sit down?” Annabelle craned her neck to invite Cooper to join her.
    “No. I’m okay.” He seemed distant as he looked out over the ocean.
    “Well, then can you help me up?” She reached out her hand. “I’m getting a stiff neck trying to talk to you.”
    “Sure.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a standing position.
    “How tall are you again?” She stretched, her muscles tight from sitting for so long.
    “Six-three.”
    She filed the information into her memory, along with the fact that he was left-handed, and all the other little details she’d noticed about him. He liked Thai food and classic rock. He played his guitar on his porch at night and had turned his dining room into a home gym. The man bought all-natural healing lotion from the farmer’s market and kept old magazines in his bedside drawer.
    She focused on the little bits of information she knew about him. Maybe she was afraid of forgetting. Or maybe she was afraid of finding out his