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Ginny wandered the corridors because she couldn’t handle Duarte’s inane chatter about how hot their groupies were anymore. The conversation from the rest of the guys wasn’t too much better. Livan was a good catcher but he wasn’t a fan of the fundamentals. Sometimes being one of the guys sucked when you weren’t an actual guy. The boy could entertain himself for a little while. Her head cocked to the side as she saw Oscar stride into Al’s office; it never boded well when Oscar found his way downstairs into the clubhouse.
The minute she saw Mike knock on the glass, Ginny knew something serious was up. She hovered at the other end of the hall, then sunk down low and waddled up underneath the window to listen, all the while hoping no one would notice her as she listened to a conversation she clearly had no business in.
With a hand pressed to her mouth and a shake of the head, she listened to Mike’s sarcastic response about if he was happy with the Padres – that man could be such a contemptuous little shit when he wanted to be. She ignored the little voice in the back of her mind that commented that it was part of his charm.
The mood soon soured.
Mike sounded so defeated when he rattled off the list of things that had him unhappy. She couldn’t help but cringe as Mike ran down the list. Ginny’s heart broke as he went on, when she heard him talk about getting a ring and the state of his knees. However, what knocked the wind from her chest was talk about his ex-wife, Rachel Patrick. That woman had done a number on her Captain. She knew it, she was aware of it but like everyone else, she just tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about how much it affected Mike, her Captain, her batterymate. Her lips pursed into a thoughtful moue as she continued to listen in on the conversation.
Ginny let out a little growl at the suggestion that the Padres’ would be better off without Mike. It wasn’t true. Mike Lawson was the face of the team, had been for at least the past 10 years if not longer. His stupid bobble head was the top seller as was his jersey. Despite Ginnsanity, Mike’s jersey was still the team’s top seller. The man’s image was on six foot banners, attached to every lamp post outside the stadium. If that didn’t say something, she didn’t know what would.
There was no way that Oscar was trying to suggest Mike leave.
A little victory cheer escaped when she heard Al jump to Mike’s defense. Everything Al was saying was the truth. Mike had some of the most consistent stats in the league despite his injuries or even his age. None of that even touched on the way he helped run the ballclub. Mike was a Padre born and bred – there was no way he could leave. It was when Ginny heard the hesitancy in Oscar’s voice, the confirmation that it was the new guy upstairs. The new guy who didn’t know the game. The new guy who apparently made these stupid moves. The new guy that was looking to force her catcher out. The new guy who wasn’t going to know what hit him. Mike was her catcher. She was going to do whatever she could to keep it that way. She quickly moved away from the door and window and shot off a text to Eliot.
G: ‘I need everything you can get in the next few minutes on a Charlie Graham. The new guy they put in the front office. All I’ve heard about him is that he used to be a tech executive. I need more than that.’
E: ‘Can I ask why?’
G: ‘No… and don’t tell Amelia. This is strictly between us. Can you do it?’
E: ‘Already on it… but at least tell me, is something wrong?’
G: ‘Nothing is wrong… yet. And if you get this for me, it should all be fine.’
E: ‘That does not instill me with confidence’
G: ‘Don’t care, headed your way.’
Her phone found its way back into her jacket pocket. A quick look around assured her no one was interested in her comings or goings. Everyone was either working to get the team back on the field or it was the team itself just sitting and spinning its wheels as they all waited out the rain. On the other hand, she was going to take this time to do something daring.
Ginny was going to confront Charlie Graham.
She knew it was crazy, the last time she had confronted the front office about a player it had gone badly – very badly. This time was going to be different – she hoped. This time she wasn’t going to go in blind.
This time she was going to use the resources at her disposal to her advantage.
During her trip to the family room, she ran into Duarte. Livan tried to lure her into conversation once again but when she saw he still wasn’t interested in talking hitters and was still focused on groupies, she waved him off with an exasperated smile. It was another five minutes before she appeared outside the family room and another two before Eliot joined her.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“You didn’t tell Amelia, right?”
“No, you told me not to.”
“Good, what do you have for me?”
Eliot shrugged his shoulders and produced a tablet for her to look at.
“You barely gave me fifteen minutes to pull this together.”
Ginny nodded her head in response, while her fingertips danced across the tablet’s screen. Flipping through the digital pages of information in front of her. She seemed to go back and forth between a few select pages before she nodded her head one final time and looked up at Elliot with a winning smile.
“This is good, really good.”
“Yeah, imagine what I could have done if I had gotten some real notice,” he teased.
“Thanks, you’re the best! Don’t tell Amelia!”
With that, Ginny is gone at a brisk jog down the hall. Eliot gave a shake of the head before he wandered back into the family room. Amelia was thankfully still preoccupied by Will and didn’t notice his absence.
Eliot was thankful for small favors.
Ginny’s heart was pounding in her chest, the nerves she had tamped down were starting to fray and make their way back up and spider throughout her body. There’s a very short back and forth with Charlie’s secretary before she’s shown into the office.
“Ginny Baker! Damn rain has everyone all over the place today. I may not be a baseball expert but I do know that there’s still a game going on, despite the rain delay. So, what can I do for you?” Charlie asked gregariously.
A steadying breath.
“I’d like to have a chat,” she said with quiet authority.
This caused Charlie to pause. He looked at her with a curious face and gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk, while he sat down across from her.
“Sounds good, anything to take our minds off the delay – I’m sure you’re itching to get back out there.”
“Yeah, but we have the time and this couldn’t wait.”
“Okay,” he answered with a nod of the head.
“You like numbers, right? Numbers make sense to you.”
His brow furrowed in response.
“Just… go with me, please,” she implored.
“Okay – yes I like numbers.”
She began to nod, while she gathered her thoughts.
“You like numbers; they’re reliable. Numbers and patterns – that’s what baseball is to you, right?”
Charlie’s lips curled in response.
“Sure, I see it as a numbers game –”
“It’s more than that!” she interrupted.
“Oh,” the question clear in his voice.
“Any team worth their salt is going to tell you that good batterymen are what make a team. The numbers don’t lie – not there.”
“Okay,” the invitation to continue was again clear in his tone.
“If you look at the numbers, Mike Lawson has the most consistent stats on this team, the most consistent stats in the league – despite his age or injuries. You’re not going to find a stronger guy at bat or behind the plate than him. You need him. Mike is not an expendable appendage that you can just cut and cauterize from this team. Not if you’re looking for consistency. Consistency is what leads to multiple wins, to titles, to championships, rings – “
“Mike Lawson has been on this team, what? Fifteen years and he still doesn’t have a ring – “
“That’s because Mike Lawson didn’t have me! Look at the numbers, look at them again. We play best when we’re paired together. The two of us together, that’s what’s going to get us all to the show, that’s what’s going to get us past game one hundred sixty-two. We’re still in this, we might be further back then some guys but we’re still in this.”
Silence settled over the office as the two squared off. Their eyes locked.
Charlie caved first, a heavy sigh. He then moved to grab the tablet on top of the desk. His fingers moved across the tablet quickly as he flipped through the various files.
“What are you doing?” Ginny asked hesitantly.
He laughed.
“What you told me to. You’re right I do like numbers. You’re right I don’t know jack about baseball. What I do know is you being here, must be highly unorthodox… but I like that. I like outside the box thinking. No limits, I like this… I like you, so I’m going to look at the numbers again,” he finished quietly.
Ginny let out a surprised huff in response and settled back into the plush chair to wait. The longer Charlie was silent, the more Ginny started to fidget and worry. Charlie began to hum as his eyes scanned across the screen, his lips pursed in thought.
“I can’t take it, what? What do you think?”
A soft chuckle and the gentle click of the tablet as it was set back down on the desk, was the initial response. Charlie then turned to fully face her, he leaned forward. His chin came to rest against his hand. His gaze speculative while he continued to stare at Ginny in silence.
“Numbers don’t lie,” he murmured softly.
A breath.
“You’re right, Mike is consistent – consistent as all hell.”
Ginny nibbled on her bottom lip in hesitation, that admission was not enough on its own.
“You’re also right that you two play better together. It’s actually ridiculous how much better you two play together… maybe, maybe – “
“Maybe, what?”
“Maybe… I was a little overzealous in looking to move Lawson. I mean the man is the face of this team. That alone is good PR. He’s a Padre born and bred. Can’t deny that branding doesn’t come into this. Then you two… you two together. I – I may have been looking at this all wrong.” Charlie admitted.
“Yeah?” The hesitation clear.
Charlie inhaled deeply, looked around the office and then back at Ginny.
“Yes. Mike Lawson is a Padre and it should stay that way. I’ll handle it – today.”
“Today?” The question clear.
“Today, before the game picks back up… but don’t you need to be somewhere?”
“Yes – yes, I do,”
With that, Ginny made to scurry from Charlie’s office. When she hit the door, she paused and looked back with a small smile.
“Mister Graham – thank you.”
Charlie laughed quietly to himself. Ginny disappeared just as quickly as she appeared. Now all he had to do was find Oscar and find a way to spin this so it looked like it was his idea. Things were looking up, even the rain had finally begun to let up. They’d be able to start again soon.
Ginny, on the other hand, was not doing as well. After her successful talk with Charlie, she had bounced happily back into the locker room and had stumbled head first into Kangaroo Court and Mike’s temper. Suddenly, she wasn’t feeling as confident in her meddling.
After she allowed herself about five minutes to mope in her small corner of the locker room, she hit the gym. If nothing else she could stretch and let her mind wander. It’s the commotion from the main area of the clubhouse the penetrates Ginny’s mind. She wandered back into the space, Al spotted her and encouraged her to get warm. Despite the extended delay, she was going to still play. A single nod was given in acknowledgement.
As the guys began to disperse and head up and out toward the field, Ginny caught sight of Oscar headed straight for Mike. She dropped to the floor, to look as though she was tying her cleats – when all she was doing was listening in.
Oscar pulled Mike to the side and began to speak quickly. He blithered on about Charlie changing his mind and that he ran the numbers again, there was a complaint about Silicon Valley guys trying to treat a ballclub like a computer algorithm among a few other expletives. Most notable were the varying apologies that were peppered throughout the speech but the long and short of it was – Charlie was in the wrong and the front of house wanted Mike to remain a Padre.
The ball was in Mike’s court.
Her breath caught in her throat at Mike’s hesitation. There were more whispered words she couldn’t make out but eventually a small smile curled on Mike’s lips and he and Oscar clasped each other on the back in a friendly hug.
A small but happy and secretive smile curled on her lips. She knew it in that moment. Mike would stay a Padre. He was a Padre born and bred. For however long he had left, he would remain a Padre, he would remain her catcher. Mike Lawson would be Ginny Baker’s batterymate. She nibbled on her lower lip in thought. The small smile she nursed, threatened to break into a full-blown grin.
“What are you smiling about, Rookie?”
Ginny shook her head and began to walk backwards. Her eyes never strayed from Mike as she made her way out toward the hall that would then lead to the field.
“Baker?”
She could no longer contain the tiny grin as it grew into a tentative smile. Mike’s lips parted in surprise as he looked around the clubhouse then back at Ginny. He stepped forward, then rocked back on his heels.
“Did you –” the question clear.
Ginny hovered near the threshold of the corridor that would take her up and out. A small smile curled on her lips, her gaze never wavered from Mike.
“Baker, let’s move it!” Al’s voice carried from the other end of the hall.
The small smile turned into a full-on grin, her dimples prominent.
“Quack, quack, Cap!”
With that and a quick wink, Ginny turned on heel and jogged up the corridor and away from the clubhouse.
Away from Mike.
He looked around the room incredulously as he watched Ginny get swallowed up before she disappeared completely. Mike barked out a laugh and collapsed into his chair as he looked around the clubhouse. He bit his lip and shook his head. His eyes grew bright and glassy as he looked around. Baseball was all he had. The Padres were all he had and the last thing he had wanted to do was leave it, leave them behind. As he looked around, he came to the startling realization that that wasn’t the case anymore. For the first time in a long time, if ever, Mike realized there was someone in his corner. Someone who would fight for him. It was overwhelming. It was astounding. It was staggering. It was the best damn feeling he’d had in a long time. He turned on the game on one of the overhead monitors and kicked up his feet to settle in and watch.
He wasn’t going anywhere!
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