Chapter 71

It took so long to drive back to campus that Devlin wasn't sure she was going to make it in one day. She had to stop at the office, her mother's, Emma's store, and finally at Krissi's. At each place she had to recount Evan's proposal and show off her ring. Earlier, before leaving Chicago, she'd spent 20 minutes on the phone to Evan's parents. She was going to make time to fly down to the Keys and naje arrangements for the wedding. Fortunately she had a lot of the details already worked out.

When she got back to her apartment she had a call from Evan on her voicemail: "Love you, miss you, and when can you come out here? We have some things to arrange."

She called him back, getting his voicemail. "I'll have to make time after the season is over for the Athletics. Unless you come here, first."

When she got up the next morning the game of telephone-tag continued. "There's a class that Major League Baseball conducts for players wives, and you need to attend it. It's a two-day class on finances and deportment. They don't require people to take the class, but if you don't, they constantly remind you.

"I think it would be for the best if you came out here. That way we can take time to find an apartment. Plus we have some things we need to talk about."

He'd included a number to call, and reminded her that the people at MLB headquarters in New York would be expecting her call.

Devlin glanced at the time. She had 30 minutes before her first class, barely enough time to get dressed and get there. She smiled as she pulled on her clothes. This certainly wasn't like the dorms. There she could get up 10 minutes before most classes and still make it.

During her lunch break she called the MLB offices in New York. She got the royal runaround until the flunky actually listened to what she was trying to say, and then forwarded her to the right office. The man there was insistent that she drop everything and come out, until she mentioned that she was a college student. Then he was ready to make different arrangements. They finally settled on a date in January when a fresh crop of players, and players' wives, were scheduled to take the class.

She talked with the man so long that she actually got to her next class after the bell rang. The instructor shot her a look, but when she explained it after class he forgave her.

She was leaving her last class when Krissi intercepted her. "Got some time?"

"For what?"

"Dinner," Krissi said. "Nothing more."

"Are you cooking?"

"Me and cooking don't belong in the same sentence."

"I know, that's why I asked."

"How about this place I know just off campus," Krissi said. "It's right around the corner from this coffee shop, and—"

"In other words, the usual place. Sure. When?"

"Doing anything right now?"

"Well, I'm talking with you."

Krissi stuck out her tongue. "C'mon. I've got some questions for you."

The waitress seated them in a small booth against the wall. Krissi waited until they'd been served their coffee, then folded her hands on the table in front of her.

"If I'd gotten a proposal as lame as you got, I would have told him to try again. I don't know how you could have said yes to that."

"But he proposed! He asked the question. That was more important than anything else."

"There wasn't any art to it, no drama. He asked you at breakfast for crying out loud."

"Well he couldn't very well ask me at dinner, could he?"

"There are places in Chicago that are open after the game," she said. "Steve's taken me to a couple."

"But..."

"And so he proposed to you over scrambled eggs and bacon." Krissi shook her head. "I'm really disappointed in you."

"So what should I have done? Told him no, you'll have to ask later?"

Krissi rolled her eyes. "Once he proposed, of course not. But with only a little effort you could have set it up properly. You needed some place romantic, and trust me, a hotel restaurant is not it."

"Again," Devlin said, "what should I have done? He caught me completely by surprise."

"You told me yesterday, but that was just a summary. Take me through what happened, step by step."

Devlin did so. "In the end," she finished, looking at her ring, "I'm engaged. No matter how he asked me, romantic setting or not, he asked me, and I said yes."

"That's the trouble with you," Krissi said. "You have this utterly practical side to you, and when you listen to it, you're all right."

"I wasn't aware that I listened to it very often."

"Oh, you do, you do," Krissi said. "It kept you in the lifestyle. Most women in this country don't differentiate between sex and love. They figure you have to have both at the same time. There are women who've finally accepted that they can have the passion without having to be in love with the guy first, and they either hop from man to man in their dating life, or get involved in the lifestyle. You figured it out at an early age."

"That was Danny."

"Whatever! Look at all of the girls our age who get hot and bothered over some guy, but don't do anything because they're 'not in love' with him, and then go home and finger themselves repeatedly."

"I didn't realize that was a problem," Devlin said coolly.

"It isn't. But it means they buy a lot of books. In ascending order there's porn, there's erotica, which is porn with a storyline and better lighting, and various forms of romance novels. And that includes Chick Lit and Young Love stories. Don't knock 'em, I've been making some comfortable amounts of money from them.

"But that aside," she continued with a wave of her hand, "they reflect a real element of our culture. There's a split every girl faces: her feelings vs. what society expects of her."

"I've heard this before," Devlin said. "We have this Victorian image of 'nice girls' who are modest to a fault, and chaste. I saw it in high school. If you didn't conform, you were a loose slut. That's why I was always so quiet and low-key."

"And perfectly matched what I'm saying. Girls aren't supposed to go with guys too much older than they are, though after they turn 30 or so that's all right. Girls are supposed to be nice and chaste without a 'naughty' thought in their head, girls are..."

"Sit up straight, keep your legs together, and be nice to older women." Devlin nodded. "I've heard it all before, several times. We're not supposed to sleep with married men who are twice our age, we're not supposed to give in to our libido; a woman is always in control. I think that last causes more harm than anything else."

"Control?" Krissi wrinkled her brow. "In what way?"

"Giving in to your own lusts and fantasies surrenders a bit of control. Giving in so you can climax means you have to give up control to the animal side of your body. A girl has to learn to do that. Too many don't, or do it only partially, and so go through life frustrated as all get out."

"You're quite the philosopher tonight."

"You started it." Devlin refreshed her coffee, giving her friend a smile. "Let's forget all of this about how Evan could have asked me over a romantic dinner. A game finishes between 9 and 10 p.m., assuming they only play 9 innings. Guys have to shower and change, and do various things after a game such as ice down their throwing arms. Then there's the media. By the time they finish and leave the stadium it can be midnight or later. After that you have to find a restaurant and get there... that takes you to 1 a.m. It's no good making reservations, you have no idea when the game's going to be over. One of the wives told me she'd made reservations, and the game went 17 innings and was postponed until the next day when they reached 1:00 a.m."

"What if the player's ejected? He leaves the game early."

"He stays in the locker room until it's time for everyone to leave. Now through all of this I didn't mention the wife, who might be waiting at home, may have gone shopping with other wives on the team, or even be at the game. She's probably been up most of the day, and here it is late at night. Is she expected to get gussied up and go out on the town?" Devlin shook her head. "Not likely."

"So you're saying that doing it over breakfast was logical."

"It might not have been as romantic as you want, but it's what was available."

"Did you think he might flash it up on the scoreboard or something?"

"One of the other wives checked. Evan might have thought of it, but players don't like that sort of distraction. At that level, the difference between success and failure is very small, and breaking a player's concentration can effect the game, and who knows, maybe even the standings."

"That I find hard to believe."

"In 1995 the Seattle Mariners and the California Angels, both of whom are in the same division as Oakland, had to play a one-game playoff. If either of them had managed to have one more victory during the season, or one less, that wouldn't have happened. Both teams used their best pitcher, which meant he wasn't available for part of the first round of the playoffs.

"During a barbeuce during Spring Training, one of the coaches told a story about how a bunt in a game rolled down the third base line, hit a pebble, and bounced foul. On the next pitch the batter struck out, ending the inning. What if that pebble had been just an inch to the left, and the ball bounced fair. Or what if that pebble hadn't been there at all? See? Little things."

"Okay, you've made your point," Krissi said. "He had to do it at breakfast. What did you two do the rest of the day?"

"We did a lot of walking around holding hands."

"And sitting places and kissing I bet."

"Well..." Her voice trailed off as color rose in her cheeks. "Yeah, I think we spent a good part of the lunch hour in a lip lock."

Krissi looked down, chuckling. "You two are going to have to get a room with automatic sprinklers or something for your honeymoon," she said at last. "Otherwise you may set the room on fire."

"We'll make a point of making love in the surf," Devlin said. "You know, like in that old movie."

"From Here to Eternity?" Devlin nodded. "I'll look for clouds of steam rising along the shoreline."

"And boiled fish floating on the surface," Devlin said. "Don't forget that." She took a sip of her coffee. "Seriously, I have a lot of things to do between now and mid-December."

"I figure I'll help you with some of that," Krissi said. She reached into her purse and pulled out a handful of brochures. "I've been looking at honeymoon destinations, and unless you go to some exotic Caribbean hotel and resort, I think your best bet will be a cruise."

"A cruise? You mean one of those big ships?"

Krissi nodded and spread out the brochures. "You only unpack once, and every day or two you have a new destination. All of your meals are taken care of, and..."

She went on speaking, and Devlin felt herself drawn into the idea. Dinner came and went, they went back to Krissi's apartment, and she found herself looking at all of the possibilities of spending a week—or more—on a cruise ship.

Three weeks later, in Oakland, she mentioned it to Evan.

"That sounds interesting," he said. They were sitting on the terrace of a restaurant after a whirlwind day spent looking at apartments. "I've heard a couple of guys on the team mention the idea."

Devlin hid her smile. Most girls she knew in the dorms liked an idea, but only after seeing what her friends thought about it. Evan referred everything back to what his teammates thought. Given the semi-nomadic nature of a ballplayer's life, the team was the only point of stability he had, unless he was married.

"I think so, too," she said. "I think the Princess Cruises out of Ft. Lauderdale would be perfect. Why don't I spend some more time looking into what they have."

"So soon? Or is this part of wedding planning?"

"These ships fill up pretty fast," she replied. "I checked with a travel agent, and she said the earlier you book, the better choice of cabins you get."

"That seems logical," he nodded. "What did you think of the last place we looked at?"

"The apartment was all right, but I wasn't wild about the neighborhood."

"You said that about the three we saw this morning."

"I don't want to live in the middle of town."

"We have a couple of places to look at this afternoon," he said. "They're out a bit farther. I wasn't sure if you'd like them because of that."

"We'll see what they're like."

Evan turned down the first apartment they looked at the next day. It was cramped, and sat right on a very busy street. "I didn't mind the traffic," he told her as they left. "But the streetwalkers were a bit much. The rent was pretty good, though."

"They're just a symptom," she said. "The side streets had garbage in the gutters. I think we should be living some place a little nicer."

"I was thinking of some guy hitting on you if you went out. You look pretty enough that they'd do that."

"I don't wear my skirts that short," Devlin said, "but I've got a big enough bust I'd probably get propositioned. You're right, we're better off somewhere else."

The next apartment was in a building set back in a small canyon. Several players had suggested it, and so had a couple of the wives. It was two-bedroom with a modern kitchen. The living room had a small balcony shaded by some trees. It had a gated entrance, a pool, a workout room, and, nicest of all, it came furnished.

"Good," she murmured as they stood on the balcony and took in the very limited view, "we won't have to buy furniture, at least not yet."

"I agree. Well? Shall we make a down payment?"

"You realize that we probably won't be moving in until next March. That's six months from now."

"Given everything else, that's a small price to pay. I can move over here in a couple of days, that'll help."

She weighed that. They'd certainly been disappointed with everything else they'd seen. Finally she nodded.

The rest of the afternoon was spent signing documents. Evan signed, but she read over everything carefully, just like her company had taught her. Then it was time for him to go to the ballpark, while she had to catch a flight back to Chicago.

"When will we see each other again?" she asked as they waited at the terminal.

"If we make it to the World Series, you're going to be there," he said.

"I hope you do. Otherwise... when?"

"Only one more road trip, and that's to Seattle and Los Angeles, and then we're home to close out against the Rangers. Um, Thanksgiving for sure down in the Keys, and after baseball ends, but before I fly to Puerto Rico we'll want to get together with your mother. But otherwise? Let's see what happens in the post-season."

"Fair enough. I don't have to like it, but I know we don't have much choice in these things."

"Yeah, I know."

They traded high-energy kisses before she got on the plane. When she got home she was too tired to do much of anything except collapse in bed.

She felt the cock sliding in, thick and hard, deliciously hard. And there was a lot of it. She didn't know who the guy was—did it ever matter?—but he was big, and he was taking forever.

She felt his balls on her bottom, felt their hairs mingle, felt his tummy against hers. She sighed happily. Forget everything else, school, work, friends, this was what she was meant to do. She was supposed to take a man, to join her body to his, and to take them both to the heights of passion.

He shifted his weight, stirring himself inside her, stretching her in new directions. She gasped as he withdrew and entered her again. He was so deliciously strong, and he was touching every secret place inside her.

She wasn't sure where they were. She could smell the bed clothes of the apartment she and Jeff had shared for so many weekends. She'd always wondered what had gone through his head. On Sundays they'd wake up and make sweet love before he'd go to church. Sometimes, when he'd come home after Church, they'd make love again, sweet and strong, until it was time for him to go to evening services—she always wondered why he had to go so many times—and then she'd clean up and go back to her room, alone.