More than the Game by Jenni Bara
31
@HotShotDemoda:I want to make three points very clear (thread): I’ve been quiet about my breakup because it’s not anyone else’s business, but since the world sees fit to attack a woman who doesn’t deserve it, I’m forced to speak. My relationship with Beth ended because I moved to Boston. There was no cheating by either of us. (1/3) Beth made it clear to me that she and Corey were friends before we ever went on a date. The only reason the rest of the world didn’t know that, is because of the attacks she has endured. (2/3) I care deeply about this wonderful woman, and any media outlet or handle that doesn’t show the utmost respect to her and her family will be unfollowed and blocked, and I will maintain no relationship with the source moving forward. (3/3)
@LorettaMcGomry:As a country, we need to look closely at the double standard we let the media get away with. Part of my platform is giving women a voice and ending that hypocrisy. I’m lucky enough to know Elizabeth Campbell, who has spent a decade living with a sensationalized story that let most off the hook while her name was dragged through the mud.
Marc threw the People magazine on the table with a grunt. The untold story of Elizabeth Campbell Evans, with a ten-page spread of photos and an interview. She talked about her kids, Helping Hands, her father, and her life in between being America’s golden girl and today.
She’d spent the last month giving newspaper interviews and appearing on morning talk shows, national news shows, local shows, late-night talk shows, podcasts—she did everything. And almost everything was fair game. She talked about her political views, what it had been like to win Olympic gold at eighteen, her fall from grace, how she’d felt when her husband died. She discussed raising her kids alone, her close relationship with her late husband’s seven brothers, her charity, her friendship with Corey—she opened up about it all.
The only thing no one ever mentioned was Marc. His tweet was the most anyone said about their relationship.
“It’s a good article, isn’t it?” Austin said from the door. “She’s done a sensational job. The Democratic conventions started Monday, and they have yet to bring up her name.”
Beth had done a fabulous job of making herself vulnerable, likable, and human. She admitted she’d made mistakes, but who didn’t? And once the country got a good view of the real Beth, they loved her.
“Did you come all the way here just to show me this?” He didn’t know what Austin wanted. Marc was in his white polo and navy blazer, although he still had an hour before he had to move to the other side of the suite and start calling Boston’s game against the Phillies. It sucked being in Philly—he was so close to home, yet unable to go back to his house in Ambra. His apartment in Boston was nice enough—fully furnished, so he didn’t have to deal with anything—but he missed Ambra.
Although it wasn’t his house he wanted there.
“I thought you’d be happy to see it. You were worried about her.” Austin grabbed the magazine and flipped to the pictures.
There was one of Beth and Austin with a few different people from Helping Hands, including her brother Luke, who, Marc knew, worked for a branch of the organization. Another showed Beth with her two kids and a photo of Bob propped on her knee. There was one of her on Corey’s back, mimicking a picture from their Olympic days. Marc’s favorite was Beth sitting on Danny and Clayton’s shoulders with her other brothers around them. The caption said, ‘Our anchor in calm seas and rough waters.’
The truth was, he had been furious on Beth’s behalf when she was being dragged through the mud because the Democrats wanted to get a jump in the polls. There wasn’t much truth to any of what was being said, and he knew what it must have done to her.
And that was only made worse because he thought about her constantly. Not because she was in the news, but because everything reminded him of her. He missed the smell of peaches on his pillows; he missed her nagging about taking his shoes off when he walked into the house; he missed the way she curled up next to him on the couch and talked her way through Sports Center. He missed the way she made him feel. He missed her.
He sighed. “Thanks, but I don’t live under a rock.”
Austin frowned.
“I don’t have much time. If you have a point, get to it.”
“Two points,” Austin said. “First, as your agent—”
“I’ve been good,” Marc said defensively. At first he’d gone out for drinks with the guys when he was traveling with the team, but he hadn’t done that in weeks. And there hadn’t been a woman who had even sparked enough interest to make him want to talk to her. He showed up early to work, and was doing a fantastic job on-air.
“You’ve been a saint.” Austin frowned, as if he disapproved. “I want to talk about job offers. Have you looked at any of them?”
“I will,” Marc promised. He needed to drum up some enthusiasm to read through the offers. But he had no more interest in them than he had in his current job—which would be over in three days since, much to the displeasure of everyone at the station, he hadn’t taken the contract extension. The whole idea of baseball pissed him off. He needed to get over that.
Austin sighed.
“I will.”
But Austin didn’t look convinced.
“Was that it?”
“No. As your friend…” Austin’s expression softened. “You are miserable, dude. Sid and I are worried about you. When you’re not working, you’re becoming a hermit.”
“I’m fine,” Marc lied. Miserable was closer to the truth. “I’m just not used to the long days and jet lag anymore.”
“You miss Beth.”
“No shit.” Marc sighed as he flopped his head back, messing up the hair that his stylist had just finished. But Beth deserved forever, and he wasn’t someone who could give it to her. So he had to suffer to give her what she needed.
“Then do something about it!” Austin exclaimed in frustration.
“I don’t do forever, and that’s what she wants,” Marc said. He got up, walked toward the window, and looked down to the grass field below. Then he did a double take. Beth and Steve and two of her brothers stood out in the grass, talking to some Phillies players.
“That’s the other reason I’m here. McGomry canceled. She’s stuck in Florida—the weather’s bad and her plane is grounded—so Beth’s throwing out the first pitch for her.”
“What?” Marc demanded, spinning back around.
“Steve knows you’re here. He’s been watching the Boston games since you moved. He was hoping you would come down and say hi.”
Marc was out the door before Austin even finished speaking. If Austin was up here, that meant Beth was okay with Steve seeing him, and Marc didn’t care about anything else. He didn’t slow down until his feet hit the grass and Steve turned his way.
“Marc!” Steve called. Beth turned, and her big green eyes met his for a brief moment before she turned back to her brothers.
But that was okay. Marc bent down and wrapped Steve in a bear hug, and he felt himself smile for the first time in forever. Steve talked a mile a minute, but Marc had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could respond.
“If your mom says it’s okay, want to see the locker room?” he asked.
Steve nodded before running the ten feet to Beth and yanking on the red-and-white-striped Phillies jersey she wore.
Every part of him wanted to cross the grass and talk to her, to pull her into his arms and hold her tight, never letting go.
“You going to go talk to her?” Austin asked, coming up behind him.
God, he wished he could, but it wasn’t fair. He wouldn’t hurt her more. “She wants nothing to do with me. And you told me to move on.”
“You’re not moving on, and you need her back.” Austin frowned. “Marc, you—”
But Marc cut him off. “Don’t,” he said.
Then Steve came back, and Marc took his hand and led him down the steps.