More than the Game by Jenni Bara

11

@HotShotDemoda:I haven’t disappeared, I just didn’t realize toddlers were that quick! Currently trying to fish my phone out of the toilet .

Monday night, Marc was back at Beth’s kitchen table. He hadn’t planned to spend the evening there; it had just happened.

That night as he’d driven toward his house and seen the jackals camped out waiting for him, he’d kept going. When he stayed at his apartment in the city, the paparazzi followed him a lot, but they rarely bothered him in Jersey. He was a paparazzi favorite, mostly because he was always willing to give them their picture, and it was usually a good one. Marc liked the attention, and what he should have done was wave and smile at the cameras. He should have let them follow him to Beth’s so they could see he was spending time with her. He should have posted a few more tweets about how great Beth was. But Marc wasn’t doing any of that. For the first time since he could remember, he’d gone twenty-four hours without posting anything.

Before he realized it, he was on his way into Beth’s house. His only detour had been to pick up a box of clementines on the way because he’d heard Mandy asking for them the day before. He wasn’t sure why, but like athletes, Beth’s kids seemed to eat only healthy food.

Although mildly surprised and not altogether thrilled, Beth didn’t give him any grief for showing up. Not only did she not bitch about him coming over unannounced, but she handed him a key fob and told him to shut the gate after himself, and said if he lost the fob, he’d replace it. Luke laughed, explaining that she’d already made him replace it twice, which involved rewiring the gate and getting everyone new key fobs.

Her house was as crazy as ever, with all five extra kids there until their parents came to collect them. Even so, the second he was in the door, he relaxed. And the little toddler, Katie, helped solve his social media problem when she took his phone and tossed it in the toilet.

Beth tried to be diplomatic and swallowed her laughter, but Luke cracked up like it was the funniest thing that had ever happened. Marc shrugged with a smile; he couldn’t post crap or talk to Austin if he didn’t have a phone.

Trish, Katie’s mom and Beth’s good friend, was the only person who got upset. It took him almost ten minutes to convince her not to replace the phone. This was apparently a recurring problem for little Katie. If anyone had mentioned that before, he might have given her his phone yesterday.

It didn’t make sense that it was only Beth’s house where he felt like his life wasn’t over, that there were things to enjoy—he’d had nothing but disasters here. But this was the only place he’d been able to smile and relax for over a year. He could have analyzed it, but instead, he savored it.

And he wasn’t the only one who felt that way, because the Evans brothers soon showed up for dinner. Beth didn’t seem at all surprised, but it wasn’t like she had invited them either. They’d all come unannounced, exactly like he had. That could be why she’d taken his unexpected arrival so well: She was used to it.

In groups, especially amongst men, Marc usually found himself the center of attention. But not tonight. The brothers only seemed to put up with his presence because Beth allowed it. He got the idea that if she weren’t around, they wouldn’t want anything to do with him. And that left him feeling empty. Not that he wished for friends—that was the type of thing Marc’s father had always warned would get in the way of his baseball dreams.

As they’d done the other night, the boys took care of the dishes while Beth took Mandy up to bed. No one mentioned it; the guys knew what they were doing and fell into step like a well-oiled machine. After the dishes were done, Will got Steve upstairs, and the other boys settled around the table, dropping a few unopened beers in the center. Will returned to the kitchen before Beth did, but he didn’t join them. Instead he stood, hooking his hip against the counter.

Beth padded back into the kitchen in sweats. She looked tired, but she made no move to kick anyone out.

“Beth,” Will said before she could sit down. “Can we go over a few things with the gym before the beer goes to your head?” He inclined his head toward the folders he’d dumped on the counter when he had come over earlier.

“I’m not drinking, but I’m all for doing it now.” Beth motioned for him to follow her into the other room, which he did, but not before grabbing the stack of folders and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. Marc wondered why he needed Beth’s help with the gym he owned. He suspected it was more likely that Will wanted to get her alone for a while.

“Don’t hog her for too long. I want to talk about my new car,” Clayton called over his shoulder, smiling, and Danny chuckled next to him.

“You’re not getting an Aston Martin. Pick a different car, and I’ll be happy to discuss it with you,” Beth yelled back from the other room. Why did she get to choose Clayton’s ride?

“Here we go again. Clay, stop giving her a hard time about a car you don’t even want. Eventually she’s going to get pissed,” Luke said. “We all know it.”

“No, she won’t,” Clayton said, tipping his bottle to point at Luke. “’Cause I’m her favorite.” But his smile was evil, giving Marc the impression he didn’t mean it.

“That’s such horse poop. We all know I’m her favorite,” Danny said, rolling his eyes.

“Both of you are her cross to bear. I’m the favorite,” Luke said.

“I don’t get it,” Marc said, shaking his head.

“What?” Danny said, looking at Marc as if he’d forgotten he was there.

“What’s the deal with you guys and Beth? You call her a sister, but you let her boss you like a mom, and you treat her more like a friend,” Marc asked. He had a sister, but he didn’t feel the need to be her favorite anything.

The men looked at each other and then at Marc. It was Clayton who finally answered, not Luke.

“It’s complicated.” Clayton glared at Danny when he laughed. “You think it’s so funny, you explain it, then.”

“Simple: She’s the person I don’t want to let down or disappoint, and the person I know will be there for me no matter what it costs her,” Danny said.

“And the person I’d cut off my left nut for before I let her get hurt,” Luke added, looking directly at Marc. The implication was clear. “And there isn’t one of us who feels differently about that.” Another little warning, similar to Corey’s remark yesterday. The one Beth had thought was about a shirt.

“What did she do for you guys?” Marc asked. His sister didn’t inspire this type of loyalty.

“When we needed her, Beth was there for us without worrying about what she was giving up,” Luke said. “And I know you think it was mostly for you, Clayton, but it was all of us.”

Marc looked from one man to the other. They were all looking down at their beers, not saying any more. This shit hit too close to home. He needed to know what had happened. Unwilling to beg like a gossipy girl, he sat back and crossed his arms. He looked directly at Clayton, a question in his eyes, until the man finally looked up at him.

“She helped Bob raise me and our brother Joey after our mom died.”

“She was seventeen!” Marc said, looking at Luke. He’d done a little googling when he’d gotten home last night and found out all about the teenager Elizabeth Campbell had been. Her coach—the one who’d died—was the Evans boys’ mother. Beth had apparently lived with the family for a few years before Lynn Evans’ death, although Marc wasn’t certain why. But everything he’d read said the Evans family was close with the Campbells.

“Will and I were the same age as Beth when our mom died.” Luke’s voice carried a defensive tone Marc hadn’t expected. “Our other brother Nick was already a Navy SEAL; Grant lived in Pennsylvania, running the farm; and Bob was twenty-four and hadn’t lived at home for almost six years. Beth was there for the days before Mom died and through the funeral. But then she went to train with the women’s gymnastics team. NBC flew us out to see her win the gold medal because it made a great story, but we left a few days later. She got back more than a month after we did. As soon as her plane landed in New York she came here, and boy, was she pissed that they had been lying to her. She talked to Will and me several times, and we assured her everything at home was fine.”

“But they lied,” Danny said. “Dad took Mom’s death hard.” He let that hang for a minute. “He kept up with the basics, but barely. No one smiled, no one laughed, and we stopped talking much. Bob was a cop, and he worked crazy shifts. He couldn’t be around enough. So things sucked.”

Danny had to stop to clear his throat, and Luke took over.

“When Beth came home, she could have looked at the misery that we had become and left us high and dry, but she didn’t. She stayed and started helping Bob with everything.”

“What she really did was remind us to laugh, ask about our days, make us smile, or hug us. I remember I made her a macaroni necklace, and she wore it for a week straight.” Clayton smiled. “She gave up gymnastics to be there for us.”

Marc remembered Beth saying she’d had a lot going on in her life when she got back; he had joked about television shows and ad campaigns. He’d never imagined she meant this. And if he had the timeline right—

“And this was when the media was saying she had drug problems and was in rehab?” he asked.

“Don’t get me started on that,” Danny said. The men’s faces all hardened.

“But, uh, not that long after that, she and Bob got married. He fell hard for the light that is our sister,” Luke said, then looked at his brothers with a pang of guilt that even Marc could see. “Dad died a couple of years later, and Beth and Bob became full-time parents for Clayton, Danny, and Joey.”

“So although she’s more like my sister, she was also the person at almost every ‘mom event’ in my life,” Clayton said.

“And I always had the hottest mom at the firefighter Mother’s Day brunch,” Danny added.

Luke glared at them both. “What these idiots are saying is that Beth was there for us when we needed her, and we’re there for her—always.”

“That’s what family is for,” Beth said, walking in the room and settling herself right into Clayton’s lap.

Will sat back down in his chair. He and Luke exchanged a long look, and Will seemed to understand what had taken place.

“You never wished you hadn’t quit gymnastics?” Marc asked. He knew what it was like to be the best at something. He’d pitched multiple World Series games, winning them for the Metros. The most memorable moments of his life had been the times he’d headed down the Canyon of Heroes during the ticker-tape parades, millions of people there cheering for him.

“No. Lynn treated me like a daughter when she didn’t have to, and I wanted to make sure that everything she taught me got passed on to her boys,” Beth said, smiling at them. “And she’d be so proud of all of you. Well, most of the time, anyway. Sometimes you’re idiots.” She laughed.

“What made you stay?” Marc asked, trying not to feel guilty for prying into her life—which was something he didn’t want her doing to him.

“Oh.” She looked questioningly at Clayton, and he shrugged. “When I came back and walked into the house, Clayton was sitting on the sofa. He’d been crying, and I asked him what was wrong. He said, ‘There’s no one’s lap to sit on anymore.’”

Beth wrapped her arm around Clayton’s shoulders, and he pulled her up tight against him. It wasn’t a sexual gesture. It was more profound than that; it was reassurance and love, something you would do if you had a scared child on your lap. All the touchy-feeliness of this family was just that: reassurance and love.

“She asked me if she was chopped liver,” Clayton added. “And then sat down so I could climb on her lap.”

“I think Clayton was fourteen—definitely bigger than Beth—when Bob finally said ‘Enough; you’re squishing her.’” Danny laughed again.

It had been a simple gesture, but to Clayton, it had apparently been much-needed stability. And she’d given it to him without question, like everything else she’d done.

They moved on to other topics of conversation, but Marc was thinking about his own family.

Marc’s mom had been in the United States on a student visa when she began dating his dad, who’d been a minor league ballplayer. She was getting ready to go back to Colombia when she found out she was pregnant. Frank, Marc’s father, always said he’d married her so that Marc could grow up in the US instead of Colombia—he claimed he’d done Marc a favor. But, unable to support his family on the uncertainty of a minor league baseball career, Frank quit. He gave up his dream and took a job fixing appliances until he eventually took over the business. And he resented it.

So although it was the last thing Marc wanted, when Frank had needed someone to help Glory with that same business for a few months, Marc had stepped up. And he’d hated every minute. In the last few months, Marc had come to understand his father’s resentment better than he ever had before.

But Beth didn’t seem to harbor any resentment toward any of these guys.

She deserved none of the bad press she’d gotten years before. From what he could tell, almost nothing that had been reported was true. And now, because Marc had done stupid-ass things for a year, he was dragging her back into the media to fix his image. None of it was fair.

“I need to go,” he said, putting his nearly-full beer back on the table.

“What?” Beth asked. They all looked surprised.

“I need to go,” he repeated, then got up from the table and headed out of the house. And when Beth tried to stop him and find out what was wrong, he snapped at her, then left her standing on the front porch.

He was such an ass, but he couldn’t help it—even if he’d ruined any goodwill left between them.

It was out of character, but Marc left his waterlogged phone sitting in the cup holder of his car instead of trying to dry it out or get a new one. But he didn’t feel like dealing with it—or with people. Austin had called his landline, and Marc told him to post something cute about the phone going for a swim. Because he didn’t want to be Marc fucking Demoda today.

Usually, if he wanted to shoot the shit with someone who didn’t care who he was, he would text his former teammates. But during the season, they were busy playing baseball—which he didn’t do anymore.

The real reason his teammates hadn’t come around since Marc’s injury was that he was a living reminder that they were all one twist of fate away from not playing anymore. Baseball wasn’t like other sports, where you went into every game knowing it could be your last. Pitchers could play well into their forties. To see Marc, dried up at thirty-three, was a painful reminder of their own futures. Consequently, he wouldn’t see the guys next off-season either. But he was sure that would be different if he were coaching.

He was stewing in front of his television, watching the Metros game, when his doorbell rang. Clayton burst through the door with pizza before Marc had even opened it all the way, and Will followed carrying beer. Neither of them had said hello or waited for an invitation.

“Nice,” Will called from the open concept living area. “I wasn’t sure if you would have the game on.”

“Come on in, guys,” Marc muttered sarcastically to the empty front porch.

“Danny’ll be here in a minute,” Clayton yelled. “If you leave the door unlocked, we won’t have to get up.”

Marc walked through his large foyer into the living room and saw that the brothers were already making themselves right at home. Both had opened a beer, and Clayton had kicked his shoes off to rest his feet on Marc’s stone coffee table. Three pizza boxes sat on the table, along with a case of beer.

“Don’t worry,” Clayton said, making himself comfortable on the leather sectional—in Marc’s spot. “He’ll be good with the game too.”

“What the hell?” Marc asked. These guys were unbelievable. He’d never known anyone in his life ballsy enough to barge into his house uninvited.

“The ump needs fucking glasses,” Clayton said, shaking his head.

“No, I mean what the hell are you doing here?” Marc demanded. He looked from Clayton, in his corner of the sectional, to Will in the other.

“Watching the game. We brought shit,” Will said, as if that made it okay to barge in.

Somewhere in his brain Marc realized he had done that to Beth lately, but that was different. She didn’t mind; he did.

“And if Daily pitches as good as last week,” Will continued, “it should be a win. Although the bats have sucked lately.”

“I think they need a new batting coach,” Clayton added, taking a drink of his beer. Marc agreed, but kept silent about it—acknowledging it might give them the wrong idea.

“Did Beth refuse to let you come over?” Marc asked, not sitting down. Not that he knew where to sit; the two best seats were already taken. He never invited people here.

“Nah, we can always come over. She loves to have the house full. And she’s got a killer TV; you could upgrade, dude.” Clayton pointed his beer at Marc’s sixty-inch flat-screen on the mantel of the stone fireplace, then continued without giving Marc a chance to defend his TV. “She always loved that her house was full of my friends hanging out. If she didn’t have so many rules, I’d still live there.”

“I have rules, too, asshole,” Will said, looking pointedly at his brother.

“He wants me to move out of his house,” Clayton said, laughing. Will glared, and Marc got the idea that Will didn’t want Clayton to leave yet.

“You cramp my style, bro.”

“Oh, please. I understand your needs and stay at Beth’s whenever you ask me to,” Clayton shot back. “Though it’s not like you return the favor.”

“You’re practically a teenager!” Will said, sounding like an exasperated parent.

Marc cut in with, “So why aren’t you at her house tonight?” These guys got off-topic quickly. He wondered if it was on purpose, or if ADHD ran in the family. “Is she planning a Kardashians marathon or something?”

“No, she has a soccer mom meeting,” Clayton said.

“Who plays soccer?” Marc thought Steve only played baseball.

“No one. Isn’t that what you call it when moms go to school and talk about shit?” Clayton asked Will.

Will snorted. “She has a PTA meeting, but the babysitter is a sucker for this idiot.” He tipped his chin at Clayton. “She’d let him watch whatever he wanted.”

Clayton rolled his eyes. “She’s jailbait, and the last time I saw her, she said she had a boyfriend.”

“Probably hoping to make you jealous,” Will teased, laughing. “See the green-eyed monster yet?”

“Oh, yeah.” Clayton’s voice was thick with sarcasm.

“You’re here to run away from the babysitter?” Marc asked.

“Nah, he’s an attention whore,” Will said, and Clayton smiled unapologetically and shrugged. Marc, exasperated with their non-answers, sighed. Then Will said, “Beth said you couldn’t come over. Apparently you upset her.”

He winced; he’d said something about her not being the Queen of England as he stormed out. But he hadn’t meant it. Were they here to yell at him?

“Yeah, so sometimes it’s best to give her a break. We make her nuts,” Clayton said, with another shrug. “What the fuck are you swinging at?” he yelled at the TV.

“Assholes stranded two again. I think that’s about twelve in the series,” Will huffed.

“So you’re at my house because…?”

“I talked to Austin earlier. Sports Illustrated wants to do a story since I might go into the NFL draft a year early,” Clayton said.

“You’re not,” Will corrected.

Clayton rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, finish college, blah blah blah.”

“Is this relevant to why you’re here?” Marc asked. Trying to keep them focused on a topic was like herding cats.

“Fuck, you’re uptight. Austin said you wanted to stay home,” Clayton said, finally turning to look at him. “Would you rather have come to our house? ’Cause you know, we have a bigger TV too. We’re slumming for your crap-ass company.”

Marc stared at them blankly. What did these guys want from him? Not food, not beer, not attention; they didn’t even need his damn TV.

“Are you going to lecture me about being an asshole?”

“To who?” Will asked, seeming genuinely surprised by the question.

“…Beth?”

“Were you?” Will looked blank.

Yes. He was. But apparently she hadn’t told them.

“Why are you here?” Marc snapped at them.

“Do you want us to leave?” Clayton asked, not looking like he was getting ready to move.

“I get the feeling that you wouldn’t even if I said yes.” Marc sat down and grabbed a beer. He didn’t know what they wanted, but they were staying, welcome or not.

Will smiled. “You’re smarter than you look, dumbass.”

“I’m not a charity case,” Marc mumbled. Beth must have sent them over, he figured, though he didn’t know why she would. Did she think he was lonely? Because he wasn’t.

“Hell to the yeah, one time you’re providing the pizza and beer. We take turns, and you’re fucking rich, so don’t be a leech,” Clayton said.

Marc gave up. It was impossible to argue with these guys. Suddenly he understood why Beth let them take over her house whenever they came by. It wasn’t like herding cats, it was like herding flies. They went off in any and every direction; no way you could get them all out.

And they multiplied. Danny arrived before the game was in the sixth. Marc had gotten his seat back from Clayton, and the Metros had a small lead.

“I don’t get what’s so exciting about a game where nothing happens,” Clayton complained, annoyed by the lack of action in the shutout. “At the very least, they should be able to hit each other with the balls.”

“No one said you needed to watch it.” Marc rolled his eyes. It was a lot harder to pitch a shutout than it looked, and Mr. ‘I’m Going To Play In The NFL’ should know that.

Will’s phone rang. Marc assumed it was Beth checking in, but as soon as he heard Will’s tone, he knew he was wrong.

“You what?” Will said. “You’re shitting me… Fuck.” He laughed. “No, you would’ve liked it… You should… I’d leave that part out; otherwise, you’re in for one hell of a lecture.” He laughed again and ended the call.

“Luke finally home?” Clayton smirked. “Texted me earlier to say he was sitting on the tarmac. He didn’t seem to mind.” He raised his eyebrows at Will.

“Yeah,” Will said, answering the silent question.

Danny seemed to know the code too. “Are you fucking serious?” he asked.

Will shrugged. “It’s a good thing he’s in Colorado; otherwise, she’d slap him on the back of the head, especially since he wasn’t exactly prepared.”

“You know, you guys all pounded that shit into our heads,” Clayton said. “But it’s completely ‘do as we say, not as we do.’”

“‘It isn’t just about respecting yourself; it’s about being respectful to the girl you’re with.’” Danny parroted someone, using air quotes.

“Damn right it is,” Will said, sounding like the parent again.

“Somebody forgot to tell Luke,” Clayton said, shaking his head in frustration.

“Beth tries,” Will said. “And if he tells her about today, his ears are going to bleed.”

“So, Luke didn’t glove up when he hit up a girl in the airplane head because he didn’t have a condom on him?” Marc took a sip of his beer, hoping he’d understood the back-and-forth correctly. “I make it a habit to always keep a condom in my wallet, and all of you should too. Beth’s right about it being disrespectful not to use one, not to mention you don’t want a bunch of kids running around.”

“Damn, Marc, you fit right in, you know that?”

Marc couldn’t believe how Clayton’s words affected him. He shouldn’t care whether or not he fit in with this band of idiots. But hearing Clayton say that made him feel like a part of something for the first time in a long while.

“But sure as shit, I always have one.”

“Me fucking too,” Danny agreed.

They all looked at Will.

“My girl’s in DC,” he said simply.

“Secretary Campbell helped her get a job. They’re doing the long-distance thing,” Danny explained, but judging by his expression, he didn’t seem to like the girl.

“Believe nothing they tell you about her,” Will said gruffly, giving his brothers a look that dared them to say anything.

“Well, if that’s true, she’s a peach,” Clayton said in a perky voice that made everyone laugh. Then the conversation died away in favor of watching the game.

Marc kicked the boys out at midnight. He had to admit he’d enjoyed himself; honest to God, the boys were hard not to like.

The next night followed much the same pattern. They even invited him to poker night on Saturday at Danny’s. They said he could take Corey’s spot since the Metros were playing a doubleheader. He accepted with a smile, knowing how Corey would feel about that.

Marc didn’t want to admit it, but having people around who wanted nothing but his company was… well, it wasn’t a burden. And Marc liked it, even if he didn’t plan on telling Beth that.