Playing Favorites

Amber was no help. Once I'd confessed to her that I had a little thing for our shortstop, she was certain what I needed to do was seduce him and offered me all kinds of ideas on how to accomplish that. But I'd already decided that wasn't going to happen - if I had to stew in the misery of my unrequited lust forever, I was not going to make a move on him.

Maybe he already had a girlfriend, or wife even! Maybe he was gay (although I doubted that, given his comments about my legs.) Or maybe he liked blondes with big boobs - definitely not me... There were lots of reasons he might not be interested, and I was not going to risk my new-found Friday night fun by creating an awkward situation.

Ultimately, I decided to wear cropped leggings that hit me just below the knee. I had seen other women wear those at the ballpark, so I was sure they were acceptable attire. Not that I was planning to slide into any bases anytime soon, but it was expected to dip down into the 50's on game night, I reasoned.

Eve was back to normal by Friday and warmed up with me. Over the past several weeks, my throwing had improved, and I didn't miss my target nearly as much as in the beginning. I did fine with catching too, as long as she didn't throw it too hard. Sigh... I really didn't like being the weakest link...

Martin and I passed in the dugout as we all got ready for our first at-bat. "Nice pants..." he murmured, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Thanks..." I replied coolly.

"Think you can run as fast in those?"

"Pretty sure..." I replied, smiling sweetly as I flipped him off.

That made him laugh and, as I turned away, my smile grew bigger. He was fun - I could tell...

It was the last game of the regular season, and our team was sitting in third place. The top four teams would advance to the playoffs the following week, and we really needed a win to keep our third-place spot. If we dropped to fourth, it meant we would have to play the undefeated Dirt Devils in the first round, and no one wanted that.

Our usual second baseman was out sick, so our coach Rob ended up putting me in the spot. I was not his first choice - or even his second - but Martin had promised to help me out, so perhaps it wouldn't be too tragic. And I had played a little of that position back when I was in eighth grade, so it wasn't entirely foreign to me.

I didn't ask much from that night - just that I not screw up too badly. I certainly didn't expect that Martin and I would become a team.

I had noticed it before - that he was the type of person who taught without making you feel stupid, who consoled without making you feel like a loser, and who praised without making you feel like you'd never before made a good play. The second-base/shortstop combination was a natural partnership, but he made me actually feel like I was an important part of it, regardless of the fact that he did 90% of the work and was a hundred times better than I was.

The constant communication, the low-fives, the fist-bumps...if I hadn't had a thing for him before that game, I surely would have afterward. I even made a few decent plays to offset the fact that I didn't quite manage to make it on base that night. Can't have everything, I suppose.

As we packed up our bags in the dugout, on a high over our win, Martin said, "Great job tonight Linds. Beer's on me..."

Rob overheard and chimed in loudly, "You buying my beer too, Martin? Or just the pretty girl's?"

Grinning, Martin shook his head. "My plan was just buying for the person who caught a pop-up and made three outs at her bag. Was that you, Rob?"

"Fair enough!" Rob laughed, then glanced over at me. "You did good tonight, Lindsay. You deserve it!"

My hopes soared. He was buying me drinks - that meant he liked me, right? I mean, other than last week when Eve asked him to, no guy had ever bought me a drink that wasn't into me. A good sign, right?

Wrong. So fucking wrong...

I mean, yeah, he talked to me, and we had a good time. But the vibe I was getting from him all night long was "big brother," not "lover." Damn!

Maybe the universe was telling me that what I really needed was a good guy friend and not a boyfriend. I mean, it was a refreshing change to be with someone who wasn't trying to get me into bed. We could maybe hang out, have some fun, but not take it to that next, invariably messy, level.

I stopped after two beers that night. I didn't trust myself not to do something stupid if I had any more...

*****

A tradeshow took me to Chicago Monday through Thursday, and the long hours and high-stress level made it easier for me to keep my mind off my almost-friendship with Martin.

On my last night there, I had "thank-you" drinks with my labor team at the hotel bar, and I realized how easy it would just be to give in to temptation. Give in to the desire to hook up and feel wanted, if only for my body and if only for the moment. But two of the guys were obvious players, and the other two were married, so I refrained. Not that any of them had propositioned me, but there was a lot of flirting and innuendo flying around, so something could have happened if I wanted it to...

Instead, I took my inebriated self back to my room, alone. Crawling beneath the covers, I fell asleep visualizing the kind brown eyes of the only guy I did want to hook up with at the present. I imagined his arms wrapped around me, like the covers were, and the soft pressure of his lips against mine. Unfortunately, I fell asleep before we could get to any good stuff...

The playoffs were Friday night, and we were facing the team that placed second in regular season play. Rob made the strategic and very popular decision to put Eve in as pitcher. I was slated to sit on the bench, although Rob made a half-hearted promise to put me in at some point. As the team filed by me to take the field, Martin tugged on my ponytail and winked, "See you in a few, kiddo."

My heart flipped, but I willed myself to calm down. After all, I couldn't start crushing every time he said something to me! I focused on watching the game.

Eve didn't look like she would be very good, but her movements were like poetry in motion as she delivered beautiful pitches across the plate that were promptly belted into the outfield. Fortunately, that was all part of the master plan, and each hit was snatched out of the air by our amazing fielders. It was literally 3-up-3-down that inning and my teammates were on a high as they returned to the dugout to bat.

Tamra claimed a seat next to me on the bench, a little more upbeat than usual. I had heard that her mysterious husband had shown up tonight, and I was a bit curious. "So..." I pressed her shoulder with mine, "Which one of the spectators is Mr. Tamra?"

She smiled and glanced over her shoulder towards the stands. "Third row up, black ball cap, with the two little boys climbing all over him..."

My jaw dropped a little, "Damn! He's cute! I can see why you don't let him out of the house very often!"

"Ha!" she responded. "But he is pretty hot, right?"

"Right!"

Joe walked by us, on his way to select a bat, and asked, "You girls talking about me again? Watch out, or Eve will kick your asses!"

I laughed at that, and Tamra shot back, "In your dreams!"

It had only taken a little over two months - ten games to be exact - for me to feel like this was family. A big, loud, dysfunctional, slightly incestuous family, but family all the same. They always seemed glad to see me and didn't seem to care that I sucked. Maybe it was because Eve had vouched for me, or that they could always count on me to show up...I don't know. But as I watched my teammates take their turns at bat, and make plays out in the field, I felt pride and I cheered as though I cared, because I did.

And how long had it been since I actually cared about something or someone, instead of going through the motions?

Rob waited until we had a 6-run lead with seven minutes left in the game to put me in. There was little probability that I would get enough action at second base to impact the overall outcome, so it seemed like a safe bet. Martin jogged out onto the field with me, giving me some last-minute advice, and finishing with, "You got this..." and a squeeze on the shoulder. "Just do it like you did last week, and you'll be fine..."

The first ball off the bat looked like it was coming straight for me, but Eve snagged the line drive before it got past her. I didn't know she could move that fast and was incredibly relieved. I reminded myself to breathe.

There was a flurry of hits, and by the time we'd gotten the second out, they'd scored three runs and had runners on first and third. Then a grounder was smacked between first and second that I just couldn't get to, and that loaded up the bases with the game-tying run. Rob jogged over to the mound from third base to talk to Eve, and Martin took the opportunity to confer with me.

"We got this now, Linds. If I get it, I'm coming to you, so be ready. If it's in the air, call it if you want it and I'll back you up." He held out his fist to me and reiterated, "We got this..."

I exhaled and nodded, touching my knuckles to his. He really should have been a coach, because he just made me want to do better...

The next batter had two strikes on her before she connected, and then she sent the ball high into the air in my direction. I tracked it, like Eve had shown me, moving to my left and back so far that I almost tripped on the lip of grass where the outfield met the infield. The ball came down, after what seemed like an eternity, and I had to stretch just a little farther to my left before it landed in my glove. Martin was right behind me, and he whooped with joy as the batter was called out.

As I turned, I saw that Martin wasn't the only player behind me. The right and right-center fielders were apparently prepared to get that ball as well, if it looked like I wasn't going to. A hail of pats on the back accompanied me to the mound as we lined up to shake hands with our opponents. I overheard Rob asking Martin, albeit in hushed tones, why the hell he hadn't called me off that ball.

"Dude, come on!" he replied emphatically. "She called it, and she had it all the way. No reason for me to call her off..."

And at that moment, Martin officially became my favorite person in the universe.

*****

We were definitely riding a high as we went into the championship game with the Dirt Devils. Severely outclassed by our opponents, we were proud to even get there and were determined to show them that we deserved to be.

The highlight of the game had to be when Eve struck out the cockiest bastard on the other team. I mean, who strikes out in slow pitch? (Besides me, that is...)

Or maybe it was when Martin hit an inside-the-park home run with runners on second and third. That was pretty freaking awesome, and I made sure to let him know it.

Or maybe, quite possibly really, it was when I hit a crappy little grounder and beat the throw to first. We won't talk about the fact that I was thrown out running to second one play later, but we will dwell on the fact that I made it on base. Playing against the best team in the league, no less.

It was a good night. We did get trounced - 11 to 4 - but we walked out of the park with our heads held high, and consolation T-shirts slung over our shoulders. Joe reminded us all that he was hosting the end-of-season party at his house the following night, and Tamra asked if she could bring her husband.

"Sure, yeah. Everybody bring your spouses, girlfriends or whatever..." he tossed over his shoulder at the group, even as he hooked an arm around Eve's neck and kissed her forehead.

I smiled to myself as I split off from the group and headed towards my car. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was my friend, Eve.

"You did good tonight, Linds," I heard Martin say as he fell into step beside me.

The truth is that I played so little I didn't even break a sweat, but I smiled and raised a hand to pat his arm nonetheless. "So did you! When you hit that homer, I almost kissed you!" Now, where had that come from?

He laughed out loud, "Jeez, Linds! What stopped you?"

I shrugged, "I didn't want you to get the wrong idea..." Boy, I was getting good at these bald-faced lies.

"I wouldn't have, promise!" he replied, crossing his heart with his finger. "But honestly, if you'd have put it out there at the beginning of the game, as an incentive, I'm pretty sure all the guys would have hit homers..." he teased.

I shuddered, "I am not that committed to the success of our team! And besides," I clarified, "The other guys don't have my back like you do, so the offer would not even be on the table..."

"Huh..." he held my ball bag for me as I dug into it for my car keys. "I think what you're saying is that I'm your favorite..."

"Yep," I replied over my shoulder as I stowed my bag in the trunk so I wouldn't have to meet his gaze.

"Well, you're my favorite too," he smiled when I straightened and gave me a brotherly hug. "Drive safely now, and I'll see you tomorrow night at Joe's."

And as I climbed into my car, I hung on the words "You're my favorite too," although I knew it didn't necessarily mean anything. 'Friends, Lindsay. Friends,' I admonished myself.

¬¬*****

As I dressed for the team party, I wondered if Martin would bring anyone. I hoped not, but it would explain a few things, and make it easier to get past him. Not that I wanted to get past him, but it would make me feel less like a 14-year old...

Maybe I was losing it. I eyed myself critically in the mirror, turning to make sure that my ass looked as good in these jeans as I remembered. The navy blouse I wore had a nice drape to it and brought out the blue of my eyes. I had used a flat-iron on my already mostly-straight dark hair, and it looked good. A little bit more makeup than I usually wore to the office (but not as much as to the club), a pair of dangly earrings and some ankle boots and I was good to go.

If Martin ignored me tonight, then I was definitely just not his type.

"God, Lindsay," Tamra whispered in my ear as she hugged me hello. "Good thing I love you, or I'd totally hate you - you look that good!"

I laughed, feeling better, despite the obvious fact she'd already had a few. "Thanks, I think."

"Stay the hell away from my husband..." she warned, blowing me a kiss as she moved off through the crowd.

Not everyone brought their significant others, I found out. As Margie, our first baseman explained, "I like to keep this part of my life separate from the mother-of-three-kids part..." And our right-center Darren confessed that if his wife were there, he'd feel compelled to behave himself, and that was no fun!

I was into my second cranberry and vodka, half-listening to Rob tell a story to Tamra and her husband about deep-sea fishing when I finally saw Martin across the room. He was engaged in a conversation with Darren and Joe, and when the three of them burst into raucous laughter, it made me smile. I drifted away from the story-telling and slowly made my way over to the guys.

Martin saw me coming, and, stepping away from his friends, leaned over to give me a hug and kiss my cheek. "Jesus, Linds. You clean up nice!"

I inhaled deeply, "And you smell a lot better than normal!" That was a gross understatement, but I forced myself to step away from him even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. He looked good too, his dark brown hair all gelled up, wearing a thin sweater that emphasized the fact that he worked out - but I figured one compliment was enough. Wouldn't want him to think I liked him or anything.

"What?" he teased. "You don't like that locker-room smell?"

I wrinkled my nose, "Not so much..." Then, looking around him, I summoned my courage and asked, "So...did you bring your girlfriend tonight?"

"No such person, I'm afraid..." he replied, taking a sip of his beer.

"Boyfriend?" I had to ask.

He raised an eyebrow and fixed me with a hard stare. "Really?"

"What?" I shrugged defensively. "I know some perfectly masculine guys that prefer..."

"Not me..." he interrupted.

I had to smile at his obvious discomfort. "Okay, so I really didn't think so," I admitted, "But I couldn't seem to stop myself from asking..."

"How about you?" he asked, apparently not quite ready to forgive me for questioning his sexuality. "Do you prefer the ladies?"

"Umm, no..." This subject had never come up for me before, but now that it had, it was worth more than a casual dismissal. "I mean, I've never actually experimented in that area, but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be for me..."

He grinned at that, almost like he was imagining something illicit. Then, obviously wise enough not to give voice to his thoughts, said, "Come on. Let's get some food, and you can tell me what you do with your life when you're not playing softball..."

Now this...this was why I came. After filling our plates at the buffet, we escaped the heat of the house and found two chairs on the back patio. And I basked in his presence - in the rich timbre of his voice as he talked, in his easy laugh and attentive manner. I'm sure he had flaws... somewhere... but I just wasn't seeing any from my vantage point.

About 45 minutes into what I deemed to be a really great conversation, Eve interrupted us. "Oh, here you guys are. Rob wants to say a few words to everyone - do you mind coming in?"

Hell yes, I minded, but Eve hadn't waited for a response and was already gone before I could say as much. Not that I would have. I just wanted to.

Martin stood and extended his hand towards me to help me up. "Let's see, we left off at how much you hate Neo-Nazis masquerading as politicians... I'll remember that, and we'll pick back up later..." But as soon as his fingers closed around mine, he exclaimed, "Jesus, girl. You're freezing!"

Was I? "Huh...I hadn't noticed..." I replied honestly, although now that my hand was in his, I could feel it.

"Come on, let's get you inside..." He practically dragged me to the door, and once inside, released my hand so that he could wrap his arm around my shoulder and transfer a bit of his body heat to me. It wasn't necessary, really, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

Rob was already talking by the time we made it to the living room. Something about the best finish to the season yet, and thanking everyone for making it happen. There was a smattering of applause, and Darren called out from the back, "Get to the good stuff!"

"Awards..." Martin whispered in my ear. "It's the best part..."

And there were, indeed, awards given out to every player. Some funny, some more serious, but each accompanied by a story or explanation. My personal favorites were the Grass Stain award, which went to Joe because he seemed to spend a lot of time diving for balls, and the Vacuum Cleaner award for Martin because he seemed to suck up any ground ball in his vicinity.

I was awarded Best Dressed, because, as Rob described it, I was always fashionably attired for every game, my hair and makeup perfect at all times. A bit of an exaggeration, to be sure, but I accepted my certificate with good grace, glad I wasn't awarded the most strike-outs award or something equally humiliating.

It was almost 11:30 when awards were over with, and the party started to break up soon after. I was a little shocked - the gatherings I typically went to didn't start breaking up until after 2 am - but Martin reminded me that I was hanging out with different demographic now. People with spouses and kids and babysitters...

Not quite ready to head home yet, I started to help with the clean-up, but when I walked in on Eve and Joe making out in the pantry, I decided that my presence - and anyone else's really - was superfluous.