Chapter Twenty-One: Torpedo Bat Magic

The cleanup day after the big Fourth of July fireworks game was predictably hellishly hot and humid. Maddie had asked for volunteers since she didn’t have money to hire extra service. The group had started early—after another late night—and so the work went slowly and sluggishly. Thankfully, the Salamanders had a day off, so there was no deadline to get the unholy mess left in the stadium stuffed into countless clear trash bags. The work was almost done, and Maddie had just put the finishing touches on goodie bags for everyone who had come to help. The bags were lined up in the dugout for volunteers to pick up on their way out. She knew the fans loved sitting in the dugout and taking photos. Even for a bad minor league team, it was a treat for the true fans. She loved watching them. She understood exactly how they felt.

All day long, Maddie had smiled, joked, and offered heartfelt thanks to everyone, hiding the apocalyptic landscape inside her. Finally, she allowed herself to sit down on the Salamanders’ bench and pour herself a cup of Gatorade from the giant cooler. Her hair was as wet as if she had been doused with a hose from hours of sweating in the heat. She leaned her head back against the cinder-block wall and closed her eyes wondering how long it would be before she heard from Rory that she had been fired. Of course, he would let her take care of this huge mess first. Without overtime pay. While he went to his gated beach house on Kiawah Island with his family for the rest of the holiday and the All-Star break. Or more likely, his family was on their own, and he was driving his European-built, luxury golf cart around some restricted course. But she was certain that come Monday, her life in baseball was effectively over. She was especially touched that Vinny and Herb had been at the game last night and had signed up for hard labor today. So had Carlton. But she had done her best to avoid them as much as possible.

“Hey. How are you doing?”

Maddie opened her eyes, and it actually hurt because she wanted to keep them closed so badly.

“Hey, Carlton.” She raised her hand in a limp wave and her heart sank. She was stuck here, alone with him, and she knew it would be impossible to pretend she was fine.

“Well, it’s going just great! Thanks for asking.” Maddie took off her bandana and wiped her face. “I give myself about 48 more hours in professional baseball before Monty Ortzelbean runs me out of Sweetgum on a rail. So. It’s been nice knowing you.”

Carlton laughed and groaned at the same time. He sat down beside Maddie and bumped against her hip with his. “Come on. It’s not that bad.”

“Ya’ think? I beaned Monty right in the eye with a speeding hot dog during the Great Fourth of July Dog Launch. Last I heard there were over two million views on social media. Literally everyone in the Western Hemisphere knows about it now. Including the new Pope who’s a Sox fan. Maybe I can buy a dispensation for Rome.”

Carlton nodded soberly, clearly trying to hide his amusement. “Yeah, Vinny started a petition online to get you a statue here at Yoakam’s. He’s crowdsourcing for funds.”

“No! You must be joking. You are, right?”

Carlton took off his baseball cap and scratched his head, apparently trying to think of a less disturbing answer. He was unsuccessful. “Um, no. He’s got over a hundred thousand signatures so far. And raised about twenty grand. Mainly from the South Side of Chicago.”

“Oh shit!” Maddie shot up from her seat and paced madly back and forth. “Tell him to shut it down now! He’s got to give all the money back.”

“Come here. Sit down. Face away from me.” Carlton placed his hands on her shoulders and massaged them using his thumbs to hit pressure points between her shoulder blades. It felt like he was unlocking about a decade of tension, and it felt incredibly good.

“OK, don’t stop doing that. Ever.” She rolled her shoulders. “You’ve been great. Vinny and Herb, too. I appreciate you. More than I can say. Have I mentioned how much I loved you in the broadcast booth? You crushed it, just like I knew you would. It’s the only thing that makes me feel better right now. I’ve lost my career, but you’ve just started yours.”

“Listen to me. You’re not going to get fired for one little accident. They can’t replace you and they know it. You are a hundred percent on track to meet your goal of setting the biggest attendance record in Salamander history with the worst team in creation. Think of all the success you’ve had. The Pickle Races alone are getting bigger every night. Fans are falling all over each other to take part in them. Everyone in this town will back you up. Did you know—the players are here in the clubhouse having a team meeting? On their off day for God’s sake! Why? Because they were embarrassed that they lost 22 – 3 last night.”

“With six errors,” Maddie added. “That was the worst part.”

“Yes, with six errors, in front of the biggest crowd most of them have ever seen. And they know who’s working her tail off every day to get those seats filled. They know! You’ve got their attention. What’s more important, they care. They’re here for you, Maddie. This is your team. Not Rory’s. Certainly not Monty’s.”

“Oh jeez, really? Now I feel even worse. I let them down. I let everyone down.” She slumped down and felt her nose getting fizzy. I will not fall apart, she ordered herself. There’s no crying in baseball. Usually. She wiped her eyes and twisted around toward Carlton. “Here’s the problem. Monty cares about loyalty from his employees more than anything else. More than money. More than winning. He’s one of the most powerful men in this sport. I made him look foolish in front of millions of people. I’m an insubordinate fly that he will smush. Not even a fly. I’m a gnat. But hey, the Pickle Jar looks clean again. I’m sure I can… Pick up trash! I should go into waste management.”

“I’m not finished yet.” Carlton took Maddie by the shoulders and massaged the way down her spine and across her lower back. It was heavenly. She was starting to have impure thoughts. Mary Ann had flown back to Switzerland. The coast was clear. This should have been the day that she and Carlton could do whatever they wanted together. But now she’d be leaving Sweetgum soon, and Carlton had made the wrong decision. Mary Ann was probably going to win a Nobel Prize, and Maddie was back to being unemployed. God almighty, his hands felt good on her back.

“I know what the answer is,’ Carlton said matter-of-factly. “You’ve been lifting everyone else up, and now it’s time to do something for you. And I mean you, not the Sliding Salamanders!” He turned her to face him. “You’re going to get your first hit today. Right now. On a real ball field. With a real pitcher. Well, sort of. Me. You told me yourself. It’s your greatest baseball wish. To hit a homerun. Watch the pitcher do the hangdog slump as the ball carries over the wall. Run the bases and hear the crowd roar. OK, maybe we can’t do all of that today, but you are getting that hit. Why not? I’ve shown you the basics in the batting cage. You’ve got a sweet swing, Maddie Fields, and you’re strong as an ox. I see you hefting 50-pound boxes around for your damn events practically every day. You can do this. You can.”

Maddie couldn’t help laughing so hard that her sore muscles screamed at her. “Oh! Oh no! There’s no way in hell I can get a hit off you! It would take a couple hundred pitches, and your arm would fall off before I came close.”

Carlton grinned and his eyes lit up with mischief. “You studied my stats. My last year in baseball—after the failed Tommy John surgery—the one thing I could do was give up hits! I am the perfect guy for you, Maddie. Let’s do this! On your feet. Get in the batter’s box. Tell me what you’ve learned about hitting.”

The dark clouds in Maddie’s thoughts broke open and let some light in, even though she told herself this was an impossible task. Hitting a baseball really was the hardest thing to do in sports. But she did remember his instructions. She had even practiced her swing in the batting cage when no one was looking. Against her better judgement, she relented and recited the litany he had taught her. “Use a balanced stance. Don’t move around in the box. Don’t just make contact. Swing through the ball and keep the bat moving upward. Lock and load with your front foot when the pitcher hits his release point. Keep your head still. Aim for centerfield, right up the middle.”

“There, see?” Carlton offered a high five, and she slapped his palm. “You’re a natural.” He rummaged in the equipment storage bins along the north side of the dugout and pulled out a lightweight bat, a smallish pair of batting gloves, and a helmet. “Here try these on. You want the gloves to be tight. No wrinkles.”

Maddie laughed helplessly and shook her head. “I’m going to look like such a goof out there!”

“What can you lose? What’s the worst thing that can happen? Your volunteers will get a big kick out of watching us. Or this could change your life. Maybe you’re a superstar power hitter, and you belong on the field instead of the front office. Maybe Scott Boras will represent you.”

“Shut up!” She swatted him with her batting gloves.

“But you’re smiling. Admit it. You’re having fun.”

“God help me. I want to do this! We need a catcher.”

“There’s the Maddie Fields I know and love! Let’s go!” He grabbed a glove and jogged out to the pitcher’s mound, shouting to the clumps of volunteers scattered through the stand. “Hey everybody! Take a break. It’s show time! Our Maddie is trying for her first official hit. She needs your support. You can clap, cheer, hurl insults at me. Whatever you want. Just don’t do the Wave. You know she hates the Wave.” He shielded his eyes and looked toward the bullpen where a few of the ball players had gathered after their meeting. “Alonso! Help us out.”

Alonso Garcia, who was also a backup catcher for the Salamanders, gave a short salute to Carlton, snapped on some basic safety gear and crouched over home plate.

“You don’t have to do this,” Maddie told him.

“Are you nuts? Wouldn’t miss it!” Alonso tossed a ball to Carlton “OK, mano, let’s warm you up a bit.”

While Carlton warmed up with a few practice pitches, Maddie tipped her hat to the crowd. The applause and cheers were shockingly loud. Tillie came running down to the field with her phone in camera mode. She was already shooting video footage, her thumbs flying over her phone’s keypad.

“Look who’s back on the mound!” she shouted for Maddie’s benefit as she typed. “Hometown boy Carlton Wilde. Pitching to our very own Sweetgum sweetheart, Maddie Fields. Oh. My. GOD! This is pure gold!” She pointed at Maddie. “This is going national. You’re already viral from yesterday. Get a hit now!” She gave Maddie a thumbs-up sign.

“Yeah, no pressure!” Maddie shouted back.

Vinny leaned out of the announcers’ booth above home plate. Herb was beside him. Maddie wasn’t sure what they were doing up there. Probably just messing around. Sometimes she liked to sit up there, too, and imagine she was calling a game.

“Do it, Mads!” Vinny yelled. “Take him deep! You are a goddess!”

Herb turned on the PA and used the mic to announce, “Batting leadoff for the Salamanders, Maaaaaadison FIELDS!” His deep, resonant voice echoing through the stadium gave her chills. But her stomach turned over several times in a row. She was terrified. She could get hurt. Something tugged at her to stop. But something deeper told her to go on. This was probably her last day of freedom on a baseball field. The end of her hopes and dreams. She wanted one thing right now. One measly hit. A bloop single. A duck-snort. Anything. She wanted it so much. She needed it.

She stepped into the batter’s box, crouched slightly, legs apart, and the bat poised just above her shoulder. She stared at Carlton out on the mound—tall, lean, imposing, his glove and pitching hand at his chest, almost like he was praying. His gaze met hers. They stared directly at each other, locked in time and space. She felt a high-voltage electric shock in her gut. This was not just some Joe Bag of Donuts out there. He was a major league pitcher. A Cy Young contender once upon a time. A man who knew what the hell he was doing with a baseball. Staring her down. Getting ready to pitch to her. Suddenly, it was absolutely, undeniably, the hottest thing she had ever seen or felt. How do more baseball players not fall in love with each other? She wondered. This is so physically intense.

And then, WHAM! The ball flew by her. She didn’t even swing. It happened so fast. She heard the thwack in Alonso’s glove behind her.

“Jesus Christ!” she said under her breath. “How does anyone get a hit?” She stepped out of the batter’s box and took a couple of swings in the air. “Just warming up!” she told the crowd.

“Come on, Maddie!”

“You’ve got this!”

Familiar voices in the crowd rang out all around her. It was like someone hugging her heart. She cared about all of them. Knew their families and some of their problems. This time last year she hadn’t met any of them except Esme. Now she didn’t want to leave them. She hated to lose this job. A Perfect Storm-sized wave of grief almost drowned her, but she fought back.

She kept concentrating on the goal; she focused so hard she gave herself a headache. The crowd was growing. Whatever Tillie was doing on social media, it was getting crazy out there. More and more people came to fill the stands, and the noise was getting louder and louder. But she hardly saw or heard it. She only saw Carlton. She saw him fixed upon her, silently willing her to hit the ball, daring her with those flashing eyes. How gorgeous he looked, how graceful! His windup and release, the high leg kick afterward that spun his body off the mound. How long had it been since he stood on a mound and delivered a pitch? How did it make him feel? But he was doing it for her, and she felt the love rolling off him. It was impossible to miss, and she wanted him to feel the same thing from her.

Crack!

She almost jumped out of her skin when the ball and the bat met. It was not a hit. The ball sailed foul. The crowd let out a disappointed “Aaawww!”

The next three pitches she swung harder, trying to recall how she made contact, but failing miserably. More pitches. Another foul ball and a pop-up. Then a huge swing and a miss.

“Damn it!” She slammed the dirt with the tip of the bat and walked away from the plate. She was hopeless. “I can’t!” she shouted. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do it!”

Alonso jumped up from his catching position. “Time!” he yelled and strode over to put his arm around Maddie. “Take a breather. I got something that might help.” He sprinted to the dugout and brought her a different bat.

“This is yours?” she asked.

“It’s called a torpedo bat.” He swung the bat around a few times using one hand. “Thicker around the part where the label is. That’s where you are hitting the ball.” He handed her the bat.

She tested the feel of the wood in her hands. It felt comfortable and powerful. “Elly De La Cruz used one for his seven-RBI game, yeah? And the Yankees used them to hit 15 home runs on opening weekend last season?”

“Yeah, but it’s not a miracle worker. Case in point, me. I suck this season. So far.” He clapped Maddie on the shoulder. “But your swing is good. I think you see Carlton’s release point now. Your timing is close. The wind is blowing out. Hard. Just hit the ball up to the jet stream and it will do the rest. All you need is… Put it together once.”

Maddie rubbed her eyes. “It’s so cool of you to help me. Thank you.”

“I’ll tell you a secret. I have a name for this bat. You know us ball players. We’re superstitious.”

“Me, too.” Maddie grinned. “What’s the name?”

“Don’t laugh!” He shook his finger at her.

“Never.” She crossed her heart.

“El Sueno. The dream. Use it. Don’t give up. And one more thing. That man out there on the mound, he is giving you everything he’s got to make this happen. Understand?”

Maddie did understand.

She took some practice swings and surveyed the stands. Holy cow! Aunt Esme was standing there with Nick Maddox, both of them cheering her on! How did Esme know to be here? She must have seen Tillie’s posts. Up in the booth Vinny and Herb leaned out, shouting more encouragement.

She went up to the plate one last time.

“Ready?” asked Carlton.

“As I’ll ever be!” she answered.

Her mind became quiet, calm. Carlton went into the wind up, smooth and silky as ever, sheer grace in action. The ball came toward her, big as a beach ball, swirling in slow motion. She used every inch of her strength to meet the ball and swing right through it, extending her swing upward. Aiming for centerfield, right up the middle.

CRACK!

That unmistakable sound. A no-doubter. Maddie watched the ball fly high as a circling seagull and carry over the wall.

“Run, you idiot!” prompted Alonzo.

Maddie ran. She tore around the bases, and it felt like the energy of a million galaxies was exploding inside her. Back in the stands, she spotted her aunt hugging Nick Maddox and jumping up and down. She saw Tillie filming with her phone and screaming, and Vinny and Herb cheering with their arms waving wildly. And she saw Carlton. He looked right at her and then he bent down and did the classic pitcher’s hangdog look. She blew him a kiss. He straightened up and pointed to Vinny with his glove hand. “Video board! Light it up! I dare you!” Vinny disappeared into the booth.

As Maddie rounded second base, she heard The Natural soundtrack—the Manders’ homerun music—blaring over the loudspeaker and from the corner of her eye caught the scoreboard’s cheesy, animated fireworks going off. The crowd roared. Maddie raised her fist in the air and cruised past third base. It was the most thrilling, ecstatic feeling she could imagine. And she knew that she would never be more in love with anyone than she was with Carlton Wilde. She would never love any place, or any people more than she loved everyone who was here this afternoon at Yoakam’s Hot and Sweet Pickle Field. At home plate, she could see the throng that had gathered to greet her. All the Sliding Salamanders were there. They mobbed her like she was one of them and opened the circle for Esme and Nick to join the mass hug. Tillie hovered nearby, still filming.

But the person she most wanted right now stood alone, out on the mound. Maddie took a running leap and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. She found she was sobbing and could hardly speak. “I love you!” she choked. “Oh my God, I love you so much!” She kissed him but it felt more like her face crashed into his and then she showered kisses all over his mouth and cheeks and neck. “I love you!” she said again “Why aren’t we having sex yet? Or are we? I have never ever felt this good!”

“I think the people in the stands think we are.” Carlton lowered her to standing next to him. “Mrs. Ernst is covering her kids’ eyes and dragging them away.”

“Mrs. Ernst is a yarnhead. She wants to ban Goodnight Moon from the library. She thinks the bunnies are transgender. Don’t ask me why, and wouldn’t it be great if they were?”

“Well, she hasn’t seen anything yet.” He tossed aside his glove, dipped Maddie backward and kissed her, swinging one leg over her body to straddle her on either side. Maddie heard her aunt’s distinctive whistle.

Good lord, the man could kiss! Maddie swooned under him, feeling hotter every second, until suddenly—she was freezing. Alonso and several teammates had carried the giant cooler of Gatorade out to the mound and dumped it on top of Carlton and Maddie.

“Eeeeeeeee!” Maddie shrieked. “That’s cold!”

“Cool off or get a room!” Alonso slapped Carlton’s back. “Good to see you out here again, mano.”

Most of the crowd from the stands had moved down to celebrate on the field. An impromptu party for half the town had broken out. The team’s rare “We Won” music played on the PA system, and now everyone was dancing to Katrina and the Waves’ Walking on Sunshine. Little kids just ran around the field and screamed for no reason except they could. Tillie finally put down her phone and hugged Maddie. Not a long embrace, but a real one. Maddie almost had a heart attack.

“That was spectacular, Boss. You have no idea. You’ve already got 30,000 likes.”

Vinny found Maddie next and asked her to sign his shirt with a Sharpie. Tillie marched up to him and interrupted. “You set up that online petition for Maddie? And you played the stupid music and set off the crappy fireworks for her today?”
“Yep. Anything for the woman who clocked Monty Ortzelbean with a fucking hotdog.” He offered the Wayne’s World “We’re Not Worthy” genuflection to Maddie.

Tillie took a step closer to Vinny. “At Yacht Rock-Speed Dating Night, you asked me out, and I thought you were kidding. But you weren’t, were you?”

“Uh, no,” Vinny admitted. “I was not.”

“OK, here’s the deal. I will allow you one date. You will not touch me without my express permission. I will pick you up and choose the location. I will abort at any time, and there is no guarantee we will ever see each other again. But I like what you did.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked Vinny up and down. “I think you’re a good guy.”

Vinny was uncharacteristically speechless. “I…Uh… I accept. Thanks?”

Tillie nodded sharply. “Fine. Eight o’clock. Tonight. I’ll find you. Don’t wear shorts. Or a T-shirt. Or flip flops.” She turned smartly on her heel but looked over her shoulder at Maddie. “Get out of here. Shoo. Go away. I’ve got the rest of this. Herb said he’d help make some announcements over the PA. The party’s over. Time for everyone to go home!”

Vinny collapsed on the grass and shouted, “Mads, I owe you everything I have or will ever have for the rest of my life! I am so sorry for every mean thing I said about those rubber ducks of yours. I will eat every last one of them if you want me to.”

“Don’t be silly! Behave yourself, OK? And take down that petition. Now!”

Vinny ran off, high-fiving the sky.

Herb’s voice crooned over the loudspeaker. “Attention, fans. This party will continue at the Dairy Grille for those under 21. Clem says she’s serving dollar Brown Derby cones in honor of Maddie’s dinger. For those who prefer adult beverages, we’re meeting at the Sip and Suds Wash-o-Rama and Danceteria. It’s Karaoke and Kooky Cocktail Night. Tillie says to remind all of you fabulous volunteers to pick up some swag on your way out. She’s waiting for you in the dugout. Thanks for coming and see y’all back at the Pickle Jar soon!”

“We have to get that man an announcing job, too,” said Maddie. “His voice is to-die-for.” The field was clearing, leaving her blissfully alone with Carlton. She threw herself back into his arms.

“You heard your intern,” Carlton said. “Time for everyone to go. And if you please, Ms. Fields, I’d really like to take you home.”

***

Maddie could never recall precisely how she got to Carlton’s apartment over the hardware store. She remembered navigating some very narrow, steep stairs. He picked her up, and they fell against the wall, alone at last, kissing each other with reckless abandon,

When she paused for a much-needed breath, she whispered,” You did the thing for me. The pitcher’s hangdog look. I’ll never forget it, never, never, never.”

He kissed the hollow of her throat and moved slowly up her neck until his mouth was right next to ear. “I’ve never had so much fun giving up a run!” He kissed her playfully on the nose and smiled that heartbreaking smile.

“Oh, you are going to have so, so, so much more fun when we finally get up these stairs!” she answered.

He pressed her up against the wall with his hips and slid his hands under her shirt, gently squeezing her breasts. She thought she might explode. Again.

“Are you sure we’re not having sex yet?” she asked. “Because ever since I hit that ball over the fence, I swear I’ve had like a dozen orgasms.”

“Madison Fields.” His hands moved to her waist again, holding her firmly in place. “When I make love to you—and that will be happening very, very soon—believe me, you will know it.”

She sighed and snaked her legs around his. “Oh,’ she said softly “Oh. My.”

***

Maddie woke to a rush of pouring rain and rumbling thunder. She couldn’t remember where she was or when. Was she late for work? Did she have a job? An enormous burst of lightning brightened the dark room. Startled, she jerked away from the window. And there was Carlton next to her in bed, hair mussed, just opening his eyes. When he saw Maddie and heard the storm rumbling, he reached out and pulled her close. All of yesterday came back in a glorious flood. She hadn’t dreamed it.

Images floated in her memory, glittering like sunlight on water. The home run, the crowd, the sexy climb up the endless stairs, and… THE SHOWER! She had not expected her first time having sex with Carlton to be in a shower. But they were sticky with Gatorade, and it was really fun. The hot, pounding water soothed her aching muscles. She loved the sweet, misty steam, the loofah sponges, and the smell of strong peppermint soap that Carlton used. He washed her hair, and she washed his. Slipping and sliding against each other, soapy and giddy, laughing, singing YMCA and doing the arm gestures in new, erotic ways. Building to the delight of taking him inside her, of being able to grasp his magnificent glutes as she guided him to find her most sensitive spots. And finally, pleasure so intense they ripped the tasteful linen shower curtain down and flooded the bathroom floor.

Instead of post-coital cuddling, they mopped puddles from the ceramic tiles. He gave her his plush bathrobe to wear, and she told him it made her feel like royalty. He dubbed her the Duchess of Shower Sex, and she called him El Duque after the relief pitcher who helped the Sox win the pennant in 2005.

Afterward they raided the fridge and opened a bottle of Chandon Brut that had been chilling for months, an untouched celebration of Carlton’s 100th podcast episode. They luxuriated in his bed, drinking from the bottle and eating packages of Ritz peanut butter crackers until they couldn’t stand it anymore and made love again. This time they took their time, exploring every inch of each other’s bodies. Back when Maddie was with Gabriel the Archangel, he was famously good at sex. Even so, the encounters were hardly languid. That night, she and Carlton spent hours with each other and yet the time evaporated. Eventually they fell into a delicious sleep.

Now in the early morning, thunder rattled the windows. Maddie snuggled against Carlton’s chest. Those amazing arms of his enveloped her—and the heady smell of him. It was peppermint soap, a hint of the cedar incense he used for meditation, lemons, and sandalwood. She didn’t know how those scents were there, but she didn’t care. It was the best smell, and she breathed in as much air as her lungs could hold. He kissed the side of her head through her hair.

“Mother Nature is a fan of ours,” he said.

Maddie laughed. “What do you mean? Sounds Biblical out there.”

“Exactly. I know the sounds of every Southern summer storm, and this one’s going to last all day and night. No seven o’clock game for either of us. I’m afraid there’s nothing else for us to do but stay in bed together. Unless we want to go to the Grand Lunch and enjoy everyone whispering about us. But I have enough groceries to make… Hmmm. Avocado and sundried tomato omelets. Spaghetti and meatballs. Or BLTs.”

“Can’t go wrong with any of those.” Maddie turned her head to kiss his scruffy, unshaven jaw. “Will you promise to wear just shorts or pajama bottoms all day and let me wear one of your shirts like a mini dress? Sadly, I did not bring a change of underwear.”

Carlton caressed her bare backside. “Yeah, that is not sad. You should definitely not wear any underwear today. It’s still the Fourth of July weekend, and this is the land of the free.”

“This might be the best celebration of the Declaration of Independence I’ve ever had! Can I really take the day off? I told Tillie she could, of course. And if there’s no game... And Rory’s at the beach. Gosh, I never take days off. But then I might not have a job soon anyway.”

“For a relentless cheerleader you have a wicked pessimistic streak.”

“Comes from being a Cubs fan.”

“Oh please! Sox fan here. Don’t talk to me about your fandom woes. I will wipe the floor with you.”

“OK, OK. I’ll give you that. And what the hell! I’m taking a personal day! Just you and me together. All day. Wow. I can’t believe it. I cannot believe that I’m here with you. That you got me to hit a homerun yesterday!” She took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly. “Also, I can’t believe how clean this place is! It’s like, half-library and half-Zen monastery in here. I love your built-in bookshelves. I’ll bet you built them yourself. You need a card catalog for the number of books you have.”

“I’d love a vintage card catalog. But I use Library Thing online,” he added earnestly.

“Of course you do. Have I said that I love you in the last five minutes?” She hugged him and he kissed the top of her head. “Oof! I should tell my aunt where I am.”

“I think she knows.” He winked at her. “And she might have other things on her mind right now. I wouldn’t be surprised if she were not thinking about you at all.”

“I’m sure you’re right. She and Nick are probably glad to have the whole place to themselves this weekend. And Tillie went out with Vinny last night! There hasn’t been this much coupling in Sweetgum since Yacht Rock-Speed Dating Night. I’m worried about Esme, though.”

“No one can take better care of herself than your aunt.”

“Maybe. But she’s more vulnerable than she lets on. I just don’t see how this can end well. She’ll never leave Sweetgum. He’s in Chicago most of the time, and that can’t change much.”

“But we don’t know what ‘ending well’ looks like for Esme.”

“Fair point. You’re just too perfect. It’s maddening. Please tell me some big mistakes that you made. I mean something super humiliating.”

“I’m not perfect, Maddie. Far from it. I didn’t handle things with Mary Ann very well at all. You know that. I’ve done a million things wrong in my life.”

“Well, Mary Ann said she has better things to do. Didn’t you tell me those were her parting words? So, at least you did right by her.”

“I could have done much better. But I have a confession to make.” He nuzzled her neck.

“Do you? Is it really awful? I must know immediately.”

“You do have clean underwear. I washed your clothes yesterday.”

Maddie flopped over on her back. “Seriously? You did laundry in between bouts of athletic sex? I have nothing to say. You’re a ridiculously wonderful person. And I know what you did yesterday. Pitching again in front of people. I know what a big deal that was. You gave me something so special. I’m going to pay you back. Promise.”

“This isn’t transactional. I don’t need repayment. I did it for joy, you know? I think it’s safe to say we both got some of that.”

“We did. Is it wrong that I don’t want any breakfast yet? I want to keep you right here in bed during this sexy storm!” She rolled on top of him and leaned in to give him a long kiss, parting his lips with her tongue, rotating her hips slowly and deliberately. She got the reaction she was looking for, and Mother Nature thundered her approval.

Maddie didn’t see the text message on her phone that was charging on the kitchen counter. But it was waiting for her. From Rory:

Meeting in my office. 9 am sharp. Monty’s pissed!

RELATED ART

BASEBALL INSPIRATION

Cody Bellinger, winner of the 2026 All-Star Game MVP Award, helped popularize MLB’s “torpedo bats,” featuring a thicker barrel shifted closer to the hands. The design places more mass in the hitter’s sweet spot while making the bat feel lighter and easier to control.

Wilde Pitch was written in Louisville, Kentucky, the home of the Louisville Slugger Museum & Factory.

You can tour the floor of the factory, where thousands of professional-grade bats are crafted daily. The related museum space celebrates baseball history and offers opportunities to hold artifacts used by legends in the game plus the chance to stand in a batting cage and experience what it’s like to bat against an MLB pitcher. (Spoiler alert: It’s terrifying.)

In front of the museum is the World’s Largest Baseball Bat, towering 120 feet in the air.

RON KITTLE, ROM-COM INSPIRATION

And that’s not all! In 2025, the White Sox offered one lucky couple the chance to get married on the field during a game on “Bill Veeck Bobblehead Day.” Ron was on hand, serving as the officiant.