Chapter Text
He had been retired for three years. Hadn’t seen her in all that time. He followed her life. It would have been nearly impossible not to. Every bad game, every good game, every endorsement, every red carpet, the press always had something to say about Ginny Baker. Then she started dating a book agent. She seemed really happy if the red carpet pictures of them were anything to go by.
Two months later, they were engaged. Six months after that he was looking at pictures of her with her hair straightened and pulled into a slick up do. Her face perfectly made up, and the bleach white dress had the most tulle and lace he had seen since his own wedding.
She looked nothing like herself, like his memory of her on the mound, but she looked happy. He went about his life. Stage two was ok. There were commentary gigs from time to time, and he started doing speeches for high school and college teams. It wasn’t the majors, but he was happy.
He started dating a investment banker. She was beautiful, smart and driven, all the qualities he liked in a woman.. It wasn’t long before she moved in. Everything was going well for him. He finally had someone to come home to again. Until, he went on a twenty school tour of the east coast. It was supposed to be a good career move. That was what she had told him, but he missed his bed, his house and her, so he decided to cut his trip short.
The moment he stepped into the house, he was struck by a sense of déjà vu. The moans coming from the bedroom. The two wine glasses in the kitchen. He was tempted to just leave, but he wouldn’t give up his house again. The door swung open. There she was with her business partner. He kicked them both out, and then took his time scuffing every pair of her Jimmy Choo’s as he threw them in a box.
After that he fell into a dark place. He drank to forget. He drank to numb the pain. He drank to drown out the loneliness, but it just got worse. The day he missed the twins birthday because of his drinking, was the day he decided to stop.
He threw himself into touring. If he stayed busy enough, it almost made him happy again. He was in Houston when he saw her. She was the last person he expected to see that night. He had heard that she spent the off season in LA, but there she sat in a dark corner of the Hotel Bar. He almost kept walking, but something pulled him toward her. She had a gravitational pull on him, always had.
“Well if it isn’t Ginny Baker, in the flesh,” he quipped. When she looked up, he couldn’t breath. She wasn’t his Ginny. Her eyes were dead. She looked at him as if they had never met.
“You probably shouldn’t say that too loudly,” she mumbled.
“Why not?”
“I’m trying to keep a low profile.”
He understood the surface of her statement, but there was something else bothering him underneath. “Do you mind if I join you?”
"It's a free country.”
“Come on, Baker. Don’t be like that. I know it’s been a while, but you and I used to be friends.”
She rolled her eyes.
"What? Are you saying we weren’t friends?”
“Friends keep in touch. Friends answer a text. A friend comes to another friend’s wedding, or at least responds to the RSVP.”
“I sent a gift,” he shrugged.
“Yeah, I know. Thanks by the way, it makes really good waffles.”
“Well… I know how much you love breakfast, so…”
“What do you want, Lawson?” She snapped suddenly.
“Nothing, I just saw you sitting here and…”
“And you thought that after three years without a word I would just be happy to see you?”
“I’m happy to see you, even though you’re sad.”
"I'm not."
“OK,” he agreed to easily, as if he were placating a child.
“I’m not!”
“Ok.”
“Michael Jacob Lawson, I said I am Not Sad. I have the perfect life. I am a major league baseball player. I have 2 World Series rings. I have houses in San Diego, New York, and Los Angeles. I have nothing to be sad about.”
“Virginia Louise Baker, I said OK.”
“Why don’t you believe me?” She asked, her voice trembling.
“Because I know you.”
“So, you think you got it all figured out?” She drawled sardonically.
“Na, but I’m working on it and I’ve had a bit more time to work on it than you. You may have forgotten, but I am a few years older.”
“A few? Aren’t you like a hundred, old man?”
He laughed, because at least she was teasing. She was calling him her little nickname. His Ginny wasn’t completely gone. “I just look it because of a certain little pain in the ass pitcher.”
“I’ve missed this,” she sighed, laughing into her drink.
“I’ve missed you.”
“You never called.”
“You were out conquering the world. Doing what every 25 year old up start should do. You were happy.”
She laughed bitterly. “Did it look that way?”
He thought back to right after he retired. He had watched from afar as her star rose. Had he missed something. “I thought you looked happy.”
“Maybe I was for a while.”
“But not now,” he finished her sentence.
“Not now. I’m getting a divorce. That’s why I’m here. Amelia wants me to lay low when the story hits.”
“Do you want to come to my room?”
“Why? Are you trying to sleep with me?”
“No, you just said you are supposed to be laying low, and I want to hear more about what’s going on with you, but I thought you might not want to talk about it in public, where anyone could be listening.”
Ginny looked around the room. It wasn’t busy, but there were a fair amount of people hanging around. She emptied her drink in on swallow. “Lead the way oh Captain my Captain.”
He wondered absently how long she had been sitting at the bar before he found her. She seemed steady on her feet, but her eyes were a little glassy.
“I’m gonna order room service,” he said as he held the door open for her. “What do you want?”
“I’m good” she shrugged flopping onto his bed, and curling up with his pillow.
“Baker, not hungry. I guess now I’ve seen everything.”
“Ha –ha, I haven't been feeling well lately.”
“Are you sick?” He asked nervously.
“Not really.” Her eyes drifted shut.
“But you missed the last couple games of the season.”
“Yeah, but it was a building year. That team wasn’t series material.”
“Not like you and me,” he supplied.
“Not like you and me.” She agreed.
“So, what is it then?” He asked, because even though she was almost asleep, he couldn’t let it go unless she was ok.
“A parasite.”
“A parasite? Did you go to Mexico?”
“Nope, but it will be fine. In about 5 months it will be done incubating.”
He shook his head. When he looked at her again, he noticed that her lose t shirt had been disguising the slightest hint of a baby bump. “You’re pregnant?”
“Yep.”
“But you’re getting a divorce?”
“Yep.”
“Because you don’t love him anymore?” He asked, clearly confused. She hadn’t moved the entire time, and her eyes were still closed. What he didn’t know was she kept them closed, because she didn’t want to see his face when he found out what a mess her life was.
“Yeah, that and this,” she sighed, pulling up her shirt to reveal a huge partially healed bruise on her ribs. For the hundredth time that night, Mike was at a loss. His brain looped from fury at him to sorrow for her and back again.
“I should probably go now,” she announced, finally, breaking the cycle.
“Why?”
“Mike, we don’t have to do the thing were you feel bad for me. Then you say something and I say something and then I cry. I got out. I’m ok. Everything is going to be ok. I am not going to cry.”
“Ok.”
“Lord, not this again,” she jumped off the bed and was half way to the door when he caught up.
“No, I mean, ok. If you don’t need to do that, then ok. We can still hang out. I’m gonna order room service, and then watch cheesy movies until the infomercials come on. You’re welcome to stay.”
She almost walked out. He watched her hand move toward the handle, but she turned back. “I’m going to need another ginger ale.” She said returning to her spot on the bed.
“Is that what you were drinking?”
“Yeah, it helps settle my stomach, and some fries... and maybe some bacon.”
“You got it boss.”
“And don’t forget the…”
“Tabasco. I got it. Anything else?”
“Nope, I think that’s it,” she sighed, snuggling back down and flipping on the tv. It turned out that she actually ate half his club sandwich too, but he was ok with that. They fell asleep watching office space. It was the best sleep either of them had gotten in three years.