“And you will,” she says. “It will take a few years like it does for every prospect, but you’re on the fast track. I know it.”
“Thanks, Coach,” I say softly, sighing and staring out at the field. “Ending my career with—”
My phone rings, and I check the caller ID.
Dad.
Excited, I say, “It’s my dad. He said he’d call when he’s off work. Mind if I take this?”
“Not at all.”
I swipe my finger across the screen and answer, “Hey Dad. How are you?”
“Carson, it’s Aunt Carol.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight.
“Aunt Carol . . . is everything okay?” Milly’s body stiffens, and she turns to face me.
“Oh honey, I wish I had a better reason to call you, but your dad had a stroke today.”
“A stroke?” I swallow hard, my vision starting to turn black around me. “Is he . . . okay?” Milly rests her hand against my heart, eyes shooting back and forth over mine.
“Well, he’s in critical condition right now. We’re still waiting to hear back from the doctors, but I thought I should give you a call.”
“Yeah, I appreciate it. Umm.” I pause. “Shit, I don’t know what to do. Is it serious?”
“Yes, sweetie. It is. He was unconscious for a good amount of time.”
My throat tightens and my mind quickly falls to my dad and his ragged and tired eyes. Fuck. Before I can stop myself, I say, “I’ll get a flight out as soon as I can. Text me the details.”
“Okay, sweetie. See you soon.”
I hang up the phone and pocket it. Milly hops off my lap as we both stand, my mind on one thing, talking to Coach and then getting to my dad.
“Carson, what happened?”
My voice cracking, I say, “My dad had a stroke, and it’s not looking good. I need to get to him.”
“Of course, what can I do to help?”
I drag my hand over my face and then reach into my pocket. “Take the dirt back to the loft for me and pack me a bag? I need to talk to Coach Disik. Can you find me a flight too? The earliest one to Topeka.” I pat my pockets and groan. “Fuck, I don’t have my wallet, it’s in the locker.”
She presses her hand against my arm. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll book everything.”
“Milly, I’m not—”
“We’ll figure it out later. Go talk to Coach, shower, and I’ll meet you out front. I’ll drive you to the airport.”
Exhaling, I bend down and glide my mouth across hers. “Thank you.”
“Anything you need, I’m here for you.”
Our hands unlock and she runs up the stadium steps toward the parking lot while I head into the dugout. I turn toward the field I spent the last four years on and give it one last look, as a lone tear streams down my face.
Fuck.
Coach Disik is still in his office, thank God, and I frantically knock on his door until his gruff voice calls out, “Come in.” When I open the door, the look on my face must speak volumes. “What’s going on, Stone?”
“My dad. He had a stroke.”
“Jesus,” he whispers and leans back in his chair, the squeak of the hinges sounding off in the silence. “How bad?”
“I don’t know much but apparently he was unconscious when they found him, and he’s in critical condition right now.”
“Topeka?” And it still astounds me how much the guy knows about each and every one of his players, despite him playing it off like he doesn’t.
“Yes.”
He nods. “Well, what the fuck are you doing in here? Go.”
“But regionals, I have no idea how long I’ll be.”
Putting both hands on his desk, Coach Disik stands and says, “Stone, your work here at Brentwood is done. You’ve carried this team, you’ve proven your loyalty and dedication, but you have a future waiting for you that means a hell of a lot more than the College World Series. You need to get your head on straight, and you’re useless to me without it. Go to your dad, because he needs you more than we do.”
“What are you saying?” I ask, my brow twisted.
He steps around his desk and holds out his hand. “I’m saying it’s been a pleasure, Stone. But turn in your gear, your time here is done.”
“But . . .”
He holds his hand out farther, encouraging me to take it. I do, but still feel confused. “I’m a hard-ass most of the time, but I know when my players need to step outside of the field and deal with life. Your father needs you. Take this time to be with him, get him better, and then prepare yourself for the minors. Your time here is up.”
I bite back the tears that threaten to fall, knowing what Coach Disik is telling me is the right thing to do.
“But the guys—”
“They’ll understand. You’ve put this team first for four years, even when you were injured.” He releases my hand and crosses his arms over his chest. “Plus, I need to see if Badcock has what it takes to stand in.”
I snort at the use of Babcock’s nickname.
“Ah, I think he has what it takes.”
“I don’t know.” Coach looks to the side. “He has some pretty big cleats to fill.”
I press my lips together, enjoying this rare moment with the rough-around-the-edges Coach of the Year winner for five straight years. Disik never shows emotion besides anger. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know how to smile, so I realize this is the closest I’ll ever get to him showing his appreciation for one of his players.
“Hey, Coach Disik?”
He clears his throat and looks at me, his once-soft features now turned harsh again.
“What?”
“Thank you . . . for everything. You taught me what it’s like to be a real ballplayer. You challenged me, you gave me an opportunity to prove myself worthy of my position, and you prepared me for my future. I’ll always be thankful.”
I hold out my hand and without hesitation he shakes it but before he can pull away, I tug him into a hug, and he immediately goes stiff. I give him a quick squeeze right before he pushes me away. “Get out of here, Stone. And . . . stay in touch, you hear?”
“I’ll keep you updated.”
I give him one last smile and then shut the door on a chapter of my life that groomed me for what’s to come.
Milly picks me up after I shower with a bag full of my things and Jason and Romeo in the back seat. The entire way to the airport, I hold her hand, placing light kisses on her knuckles every chance I get while I clutch my phone at my side, desperately wishing I would get more news.
Luckily, Milly found me a flight to Topeka with just enough time to get to the airport and get through security. On the drive, I explain to everyone what Coach said. Even though a piece of me believes if my dad is okay, I’ll possibly come back in time for regionals, the other part, a huge part, believes that even if he is okay, I should take this moment to be there for him, help him adjust back home. Coach gave me a pass, and I should take it.
The airport signs for departures loom ahead as Milly slows down to switch lanes. The silence in the car speaks for itself: no one wants me to leave, but they all know I have to. Jason and Romeo turned white when I told them the game today was probably my last in a Brentwood jersey. Not just because Badcock will be filling my position, but because who knows if we’ll ever play together again.