It was colder than an ice bath but Ryan was determined to work with the kids on conditioning. The snow had held off, which was a surprise for this time of year, but Ryan planned to make the most of it. Coach claimed he had some paperwork to finish up and asked if Ryan could run practice. Stuart looked like he’d swallowed a porcupine upon hearing the coach’s request. He’d stomped off saying he had to organize the equipment room. A couple of guys, Louis and Fitz, showed up early and Ryan got them to bring weights out from the gym. He had all of their last names down but was still working on firsts. When Travis came walking across the field, Carter at his side, Ryan was surprised by the surge of affection that hit him.
“Bring-a-brother-to-practice day?” Ryan asked, then second-guessed his own wording. Travis caught it and he lifted his eyebrows with amusement. Other than that, he just gave him a chin nod in greeting.
“Thought you was coming on Tuesdays,” Carter said.
“Thought you were going to work on using the English language properly,” Ryan said.
A smile played at the corners of his lips, even when Carter made a scoffing sound. Both boys were dressed in bulky jackets that looked new. Ryan wondered how Frankie would afford to feed and clothe three boys but reminded himself she wouldn’t be doing it alone. The thought winded him. Victoria had pretended to want kids for a short period of time. Even when he was blind with lust for her, he’d known he didn’t want that with her. He’d wanted her, but not a life with her; he didn’t get the difference at the time. She’d wanted a life with him, but not him. Should have been a clue, he thought, watching more of the team hit the field, most in groups of two or three. Despite being together almost every day, they greeted each other with back slaps, trash talk, and the easy back and forth that came with being on a team. There were days he missed that feeling like he would a vital organ. Before or after practice, after a game, good or bad, his team was his family. Like any family, there were fights and days that sucked more than they should, but they could count on each other. Most of them. Definitely not all.
“All right, get in here, boys. We’re going to do things differently today,” Ryan said, the boys circling around him. A current of excitement coursed through him. He’d run them hard, see what they were made of; mostly, he’d help them become stronger. Better.
“We gonna try freezing our balls off?” Anthony, a first baseman, laughed at his own joke as the others joined in. Travis had wandered off to the bleachers and bundled himself in his jacket. Ryan let them laugh and chuckled along with them. Then he got their attention.
“Nope. I’m gonna make sure you don’t. We’re going to do some dry land training. See what you’re made of. Starting with burpees. Spread out, twenty-five each to start, last person done gets an extra twenty. What are you waiting for?”
The kids exchanged glances but it was Carter who first took him seriously. Once he started, the rest joined in and raced each other to the finish. Coach’s strength and endurance training, from what Ryan had seen, included them running sprints and doing jumping jacks and maybe some push-ups. But these boys needed top-notch conditioning if they wanted to stand out. Ryan had checked the stats on their competition and if they wanted to make the state championships, they’d have to work for it. Hard. As Ryan watched Levi and Louis struggle around the eighteenth burpee, he figured he was only helping them. If they couldn’t keep up on a high school field, they wouldn’t make it to the majors. Hell, even the ones that handled today’s work out with ease likely wouldn’t make it to the majors. Or the minors. He shook his head, trying to ignore the wave of pride that washed through him when Carter finished first, sweat already forming on his brow. Anthony’s face was beet red when he finished last. Ryan made the rest of them do jumping jacks while Anthony did another twenty burpees. Travis moved off of the bleachers when Ryan brought the team that way, a smirk resting on his lips.
“Want to join in?” Ryan asked.
“No way, dude.”
Ryan laughed. “Chicken.” Turning to the team, he grinned wickedly. The first time he’d done this drill in junior high, he’d tripped and fallen flat on his face. He’d been razzed so hard by his teammates that he’d stayed after practice to perfect it. “Keep your feet together, jump onto the bench then off. Travis here is going to time you. One minute. You stop before the minute is up, you go for another five.”
He tossed Travis a stopwatch. He heard them grumbling but they were smart enough to keep it low. By the end of the minute, every one of them had yanked off their Wild Cats fleece sweaters, using them to mop their foreheads. Not one of them had fallen or tripped.
He had Travis time them while they did sprints and when they finished that, he made them do squats with weights over their heads.
“Coach, what’s this got to do with baseball?” Levi’s breath was choppy and he used the hem of his shirt to wipe his face. The cold was picking up but it wasn’t slowing them down.
“You need to be able to do more than hit and catch, Levi.”
“That’s what his girlfriend told him,” Anthony yelled. He looked away when Ryan glared at him.
When they almost looked like they were ready to drop, he sent them in for water while Travis helped him set up cones. When they came back out, faces red, some scowling, some weary but pumped, he taught them a basic X-drill. They ran from a stationary spot to a diagonal cone, sidestepped to another, then ran diagonally from there to another cone, and finally back to their original spot. They worked in partners, Travis and Ryan timing them.
“You all need to be able to handle anything. You need upper body strength to hit the ball, speed to run the bases, and you need to be able to keep your head in the game. Stay focused.”
“There goes Anthony’s chances,” Levi said. A few of the boys laughed and Anthony gave Levi a playful shove. They were done. They’d handled themselves and if he had to put a name to what he was feeling, Ryan would say he was proud. But not out loud.
“Alright, one lap then showers. On your way in, put these weights away.”
As the team ran their lap, Travis collected the cones and brought them over to where Ryan was packing up his clipboard and stopwatches.
“That was crazy. You trying to make cuts by killing them?”
Ryan laughed and zipped up his duffel. “No, but it definitely weeds out the ones who are serious. Some of these boys are in their senior year. They’ll have scouts looking if they don’t already. It’s good to see you, Travis.”
“You think Carter’s got a chance?”
“Don’t know. Is he doing his schoolwork?” Ryan shouldered the bag, took the cones from Travis, and walked beside him toward the gym.
“Yeah. Surprisingly, he is.”
“How you doing, Trav?” This time, Ryan met his gaze, hoping Travis saw that he really wanted to know.
“I’m all right. You know. Things are all right. I uh…”
Travis stopped when the fastest of the group, Louis, came up behind them, breathing heavy, a weight in hand.
“Good work out, Coach. You should join us next time,” Louis said.
“Maybe I will. If I think you need me to show you how it’s done.”
Travis and Louis laughed and Ryan was about to join them when he caught the look Louis sent Travis. Ryan knew what it meant. Hell, he gave that same glance to Frankie pretty much every day. The one that said, I want my hands on you. Then Louis turned and was gone and Travis’s cheeks were flushed.
For a minute, Ryan felt like he had joined them for the workout. The air squeezed inside his chest and felt trapped. Travis was studying his shoes and Ryan’s heart tap danced as his brain tried to think of what to say.
“I thought you liked the kid you study with,” Ryan said, his voice low from lack of air. He had wondered when they’d gone to the mall but the look Louis and Travis just shared confirmed what Ryan had thought. Travis shuffled his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets, and stopped walking. He kept studying his shoes. Ryan’s throat felt thick, nerves making the back of his neck itch.
“That’s all you’re going to say?” Travis asked. His eyes lifted, but only to Ryan’s chin.
“Is there something you want me to say?” Ryan kept his gaze steady when Travis finally brought his gaze up all the way. His eyes darted side to side as a few of the boys moved past them, then latched onto Ryan’s again. Fear and relief fought in the lines of his face before he shrugged and looked down again.
“Travis?”
“What?”
“I don’t know what the right thing to say here is. The last time I was around teens, I was one. I’m shit at relationships and just praying I don’t mess up my own. So if you want to talk to me, you can. I’m here. I’ll be honest and do my best by you, but I can’t read your mind.”
A few more of the guys ran by, Carter among them. He gave them a quick glance, wiped the sweat from his eyes, and carried on to the showers. Travis kicked at the gym floor with his foot.
“Don’t bother you?”
“That you’re gay?”
Travis’s eyes went wide and he stepped into Ryan, a warning look on his face. “Dude.”
“Jesus, kid. Are you?” Ryan shook his head, resisted shuffling his own feet. He didn’t consider himself good at giving advice. He definitely didn’t like to take it. But he had a chance with Travis here, so what the hell was he supposed to do?
“I don’t know.”
A couple of the boys exited the locker room and Travis backed up a bit. Ryan had under a minute tops to impart some sort of wisdom.
“Whether you like a guy or a girl, treat them with respect and demand it for yourself. Be safe. Use protection. Be honest. And faithful. You don’t want to be with someone, tell them. Don’t make them guess or find out from someone else. Be yourself. If that isn’t good enough for whoever you date, screw them. Well, don’t, not…” Ryan stopped and noted the curve of Travis’s lips as he tried not to smirk. Relief rested in his chest. Okay. The kid was smiling so he couldn’t have messed up too much.
“Is that all, dad?” Travis’s eyes shone with amusement but Ryan saw a slight sheen in them as well.
He clapped his hand on his shoulder, squeezed, and nodded his head, his throat oddly tight.
“You two sharing a moment or what?” Carter came up beside them, his hair still wet and his jacket zipped to his chin.
“Yup.” Travis turned and they began walking to the parking lot, the three of them.
“You work out like that when you played?” Carter asked. Cars started up and began pulling out of the parking lot. The air tasted like snow and Ryan hoped it would hold off. He wasn’t ready for winter yet. Maybe he could talk Frankie into a sunny vacation.
“I did. You’re going to hurt tomorrow. But you were awesome. You’ve got strength and speed. It’s a good combination.”
They reached his truck and Ryan hesitated and looked at them both. He didn’t want to say goodbye.
“How’s Frankie?” Travis asked.
“She’s good. Missing you guys. How’s Miles?”
Carter leaned against Ryan’s truck and crossed his arms. He looked more…relaxed. Like a teenager should.
“He likes the school he’s at,” Travis said, shooting Carter a look. Something passed between them, something Ryan stayed on the outside of, unable to decipher.
Ryan dropped his bag and put his hands on his hips. He had to stop himself from rubbing his palms on his track pants.
“Listen,” he said, a puff of cold air following his words. “Why don’t we go grab a pizza? We could take it back to Frankie’s? Maybe even pick up Miles. If that’s okay with your—”
“We gotta go,” Carter interrupted, pushing off of Ryan’s truck. Like a gate slamming shut, the ease was gone. Ryan felt more of chill from Carter’s words than he did from the weather. Travis opened his mouth and took a step forward, but Carter nudged him in the shoulder.
“We’ll see you,” was all Travis said.
Ryan watched them go, wishing he knew what to say to stop them. Getting in his truck, he headed for home. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, restlessness clawing at him. If he were in LA, he’d go grab a beer with one of the guys, go to the batting cages, and take Frankie to dinner at Perch, his favorite rooftop restaurant. His phone rang as he was nearing his driveway. A glance at the caller ID told him it was his agent. Or former agent. Another person who had let him down, walked away when Ryan had needed him. He let the call go to voicemail and figured that if he was going to put the past behind him, he had to stop answering its phone calls.