Chapter 71

Brock and Al found themselves on the bench for the second game in Miami. LaCross was trying to rotate the lineup to keep everyone fresh and the Marlins seemed content to play their minor leaguers.

The teammates didn't pay much attention to the game. Instead Brock gave Al a rundown of the photo session.

"What a putz," Al remarked. "You should have just pounded him into sawdust."

"I thought Erika was going to," Brock said with a laugh. "Randi was probably the only one of them I could take in a fair fight. Meredith and Erika could probably make me cry in about a second."

"Since when did you ever fight fair?" Al joked.

"Good point," Brock admitted seriously. "Back when those guys grabbed Susan, I got them by surprise. In prison, I did the same thing. They expected easy pickings. When I came at them first, it caught them off guard. With Meredith' sister, they were all too stoned to even defend themselves. I probably haven't been in a fair fight since I was 12 or 13 years old."

"The key thing is that you won them all," Al reminded him. "Fair, unfair, whatever. Those were fights for your life or someone else's. You do whatever you need to do in order to make sure everyone on the good side walks away. That's the way it was in Brooklyn, too. Ask Rafe about life in South-Central L.A. In our cases, the good side and bad side were a little blurry. The only reason one side was good was because it was people we knew. The other side was bad because it was people we didn't know. At least you didn't have to make a choice about if you were really doing the right thing."

"You were in a gang?" Brock asked. Al had rarely spoken about his life in New York other than in general terms.

"Oh, hell, no," Al said. "Even the gangbangers were scared shitless of my mama. But I knew guys who were and I helped out a few times when the odds were uneven. Once I got older, I was sort of like Mendoza. They knew I had a chance to be something special so they let me alone. But if I'd have washed out in Double-A, that's probably the life I would be leading."

"Yeah," Brock said. "I wonder about what things would have been like if none of that stuff would have happened. I'd probably be in Wilkins eating the same shit sandwich as the rest of them. You know, I've always wondered why my Mom didn't just pack up and leave."

"Could have been a lot of reasons," Al said. "When I bought my Mom a house on Staten Island, you would have thought I was asking her to move to the moon. She had lived her whole life within five blocks of the apartment I grew up in. When I told her I worried about her, she just laughed at me. Having not known any other sort of life, she had no idea how miserable things were in that neighborhood. Oh sure, she saw other places on TV or in magazines. But she always said that every place has its warts. At least in Bushwick, she knew where they were."

"Maybe that was it with my mom," Brock agreed. "You know, I don't think she had anywhere else to compare. I know – or at least Zoe told me – that my dad asked her to come with him to Hollywood but she turned him down. She died right there in the same house she grew up in. Oh, we lived other places before my grandparents died but they were still in Wilkins."

"Now you've seen the rest of America," Al joked to ease the maudlin mood. "You've been to Kingston, North Carolina, and Buffalo, New York."

"And a hundred little towns along the way," Brock replied. "Man, in college, we played in a couple of tournaments down here in some of the dingiest little parks. Duke isn't good at anything but basketball and academics. The football team isn't going to a bowl game and we were never going to go to the College World Series. So while Florida State and Clemson were being invited to big-time tournaments to play Alabama and LSU, we were playing the University of South Florida or Lynn University."

"That's just up the coast from here," Al said. "We played an exhibition game against them one year during Spring Training when it was still in Vero Beach. It might have been while you were at Duke, now that I think about it. It was part of some big tournament they had during Spring Break. There was like a dozen college teams playing each other. We played them a seven-inning game with wooden bats. We did an auction and shit for charity. It had to be six or seven years ago. I'll have to ask Esmi when it was. It was before the girls were in school because they came down with me that year."

"I played there during my sophomore year," Brock said. "All the northern schools come down to Florida for a week during their breaks. We even played a couple of Canadian colleges. It sucked. We'd play twice a day but not back-to-back. You might have a game a nine a.m. and then not play again until 10 o'clock that night. I don't remember the Dodgers being there but they were using fields all over the area. We could have been 20 miles away while you were there."

"Oh, by the way, speaking of Esmi, she's giving me a bunch of shit about Mandy and Meredith posing for a magazine," Al said.

"It wasn't my idea," Brock replied. "I didn't push her to do it or discourage her from doing it. It was all her decision. You can let Esmi know if she's mad about it to be mad at Meredith, not you or me."

"She's not mad," Al said. "She wants to know why I never pushed one of the magazines to include her."

"Esmi would have killed that guy today," Brock said. "You would have had to bail her out of jail this evening."

"Maybe I'd have left her," Al joked. "Anyway, she's going to talk to Meredith about a charity calendar with the Dodger wives. So be prepared. I think she's trying to get Susan involved, too. The proceeds would go to CASA of Greater Los Angeles. I think Mandy is on board. She figures Tara might even do it since it's for Susan's organization. She's going to ask Allison Watson and Rosita Betancourt. She's sure she can get 12 but if she gets more she might go for an 18-month calendar or print two editions. I'm staying the hell out of it. I just don't want you blindsided if Meredith turns up as Missus November or something."

"Crap," Brock muttered. Al could only laugh at his friend's discomfort.

"Welcome to married life," Al said.

Brock didn't even bother to shower before he got dressed in his suit for the trip back to the resort. This was going to be the last night of the pre-honeymoon and he figured Meredith might have something special planned.

Instead he found Meredith already asleep when he got in the room. He smiled at her, gave her a kiss on the forehead and went back out to get something to eat. He had only nibbled on the postgame buffet because he didn't want to stuff himself if Meredith was planning to dine with him.

Meredith was sheepish the next morning when they awoke. The last game in the series, like every MLB game but one on Sundays, was an afternoon start. Brock had to be at the park by 10:30 a.m. for the one p.m. start.

Meredith, Randi and Erika were taking an earlier flight back to Los Angeles. Brock was going to fly home on the team's charter.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep," Meredith said over breakfast. "I guess being out in the sun all day yesterday did me in."

"I was fine just cuddling up next to you," Brock told her. "I'm sure watching me sit on the bench all evening was just thrilling for you."

"I got sleepy in the seventh inning and we left," Meredith admitted. "You guys were already up four runs so I didn't figure you'd even pinch hit."

"I didn't," Brock said. "Al and I just shot the shit all game. I didn't even have to shower before I came home. I was already dressed before the last out was made. Once I saw Skip wasn't going to use me on defense, I figured I might as well make a break for it."

"I can stay today if you want me to," Meredith said.

"Nah, go on back and make sure Randi didn't have a wild party while we were gone," Brock joked. "I should be back in time for us to fire up the grill tonight if you want. We'll gain three hours on the flight home."

"That just means we get to go to bed earlier!" Meredith replied, licking her lips lasciviously. "We'll make up for what we missed last night."

"Sounds even better than grilling out," Brock answered. He kissed her goodbye before he headed for the park.

"Have a wonderful game," Meredith told him. Brock carried the bags to the rental car they'd been using so Meredith could transport his stuff back with her. He gave her another kiss and caught a taxi to the field.

Brock was back at shortstop for the finale. Driesbach and Milton took the day off. Courson was at catcher because LaCross rarely used his starter in a day game after a night game. Likewise, Wade got the afternoon to cool his heels and Broderick Williams took his place.

The game was just like the rest of the contests in Miami – over before it really started. The Marlins manager sent out a pitcher to make his Major League debut. He hadn't set the world afire in Triple-A but he was seriously overmatched even against the watered-down version of the Los Angeles lineup. The kid barely made it through the first and was in the shower before the second out of the second inning was recorded. He left the bases loaded and already trailed 5-0. By the time the inning ended, he was on the hook for three more earned runs.

"Nothing like starting your Major League career with an ERA of 54.00," Josh commented when the inning came to a merciful close.

"Shit, that's nothing," Brock noted. "That dumb kid Jim tossed out there against Tampa will need a complete game shutout to get his down to that level."

LaCross had made a strategic decision earlier in the day. Rather than start Udo Jergens in Miami, he gave the ball to one of the Triple-A pitchers called up after the season in Las Vegas had ended. He figured it wouldn't be much different that a minor league start given the level of talent the Marlins seemed content to put on the field.

Staked to a large lead, the Dodgers pitcher concentrated on throwing strikes. He allowed one run in seven innings before LaCross went to the bullpen. Indeed, the dumb kid LaCross tossed out against Tampa got a chance to actually compile an ERA (he hadn't recorded an out against the Rays so his earned run average was infinity) and made the most of it. He pitched the final two innings of scoreless baseball to bring his season ERA down to 27.00.

"What a fucking joke," Al groused in the locker room as the team ate a quick meal before heading to the airport. "Christ, if they were just going to mail it in, we could have headed back to Los Angeles from Tampa."

"I don't think they started one player who has more 75 at-bats this year," Josh agreed.

"And that kid they had on the mound was brutal," Wade added. "Thank God the Giants don't come over here again."

"There is that," Brock said. "Everyone got a day off this series. We're ready to go when San Francisco comes to town tomorrow."

The Giants had lost two of four to San Diego while the Dodgers were sweeping the Marlins. That gave Los Angeles a four-game spread. Regardless of what happened, San Francisco would leave in second place. If the Dodgers could manage a sweep, the division would almost be a lock.

Brock's cell phone beeped as he boarded the charter with a text from Meredith letting him know they had arrived home safely. Her next text told him to make sure he headed straight home from the airport because she would be ready and waiting for him in the bedroom.

"Sexting?" Zack joked as he took a seat beside Brock on the plane.

"We're not 15," Brock replied. "We've graduated to phone sex now."

"Tara won't even send me a picture of her in a bikini," Zack said. "She seems to think I'll leave my phone sitting around somewhere and they'll end up on the Internet."

"Little does she know that you'd post them yourself," Brock joked.

"Exactly," Zack replied. "What's the use of having a hot girlfriend if you can't share naked pictures of her with the world?"

"I know it," Brock agreed. "I get the same thing from Meredith. I even sent her a picture of my schlong but she wouldn't play along."

"You phone has a zoom lens?" Zack wondered.

"Wide angle," Brock shot back.

He considered telling Zack that he had a couple of pictures of Tara in a bra and panties if he wanted to see them but decided some things are better left unsaid. They weren't sexy pictures. In fact, they were about as sexless as a picture of a hot girl in her underwear could be. In one, Tara had a towel wrapped around her head and she was wearing granny panties and a sports bra. The second was from when she passed out drunk after a party and the others had stripped her and wrote their names on her with a marker. The underwear she wore was a little nicer but she looked as though she might be dead in the photo.

With a shake of his head, Brock decided that he should probably remove those from his photo album and give them back to Tara so she could destroy them.

Meredith was indeed waiting for Brock exactly where she said she'd be. She was dressed exactly how she told him she would be. His arrival was greeted with open arms – she jumped out of bed to hug him as though it had been months instead of hours since they'd seen each other – and, soon after, open legs.

Brock barely had time to hang up his suit jacket and loosen his tie before Meredith was pulling toward their bed.

"You know what I've been doing since this morning?" she asked.

Brock shook his head as he pulled his belt from his pants.

"Playing with myself," Meredith said. "I wanted to be ready when you got home. My baby had an awesome week and I want to show him how proud I am of him."

"My performance was inspired by the presence of my lovely fiancée," Brock replied. Meredith had taken over the chore of undressing him. She had no intention of letting him take the time to fold his trousers and put them on the hanger. That could be done later – much later.

"And my performance this evening is inspired by my wonderful fiancé," Meredith replied as she shoved his pants down his legs. "So, tonight, my love, I am yours. Anything you want to do, we'll do. Anywhere you want to do it, we'll do it. Just tell me what you want and I'll find a way to make sure you get it."

"I have everything I want right in front of me," Brock told her.

"I'm yours," Meredith confirmed. "I am completely and totally yours tonight. I mean it, Brock. There are no rules and no boundaries tonight. If you want me to pull the velvet collar out from the closet and put it on, I'm willing. I've been thinking of nothing else all day that fulfilling all your wildest fantasies."

"My fantasies aren't that wild," Brock said with a laugh.

"Then we'll have to broaden your imagination this evening," Meredith said, taking him by the hand. She didn't pull him onto the bed as he expected. Instead she led him to the bathroom where the tub was filled. "First, I will bathe you. I made the water extra hot so it should be perfect by now. I know there is nothing you like better than a nice shower after a long plane ride. Well, tonight, it is a bath with me as your personal attendant."

She led Brock to the tub and tested the water with her foot. She smiled as she gestured for him to enter the water. As she had predicted, the water was just short of being too hot. It felt good to recline in the tub and let the warm water relax the muscles that had tightened up while flying from Miami to Los Angeles less than an hour after playing a baseball game in the baking Florida sun.

It felt even better when Meredith had him slide forward so she could sit behind him in the tub. She began to massage the muscles in his back and shoulders, working her way down his arms and back up. When it looked as though Brock might relax more than she had planned, her delicate hand creeped around his midsection to play with his erection.

She soaped his body and even washed his hair for him, always taking a few moments to ensure he was still aroused. It was a completely unnecessary action. Brock couldn't remember a time when even a thought of having Meredith naked near him didn't arouse him. That she was actually there and not just in his thoughts meant there was little chance his attention would drift.

When the bath began to cool, Meredith pulled him to his feet (with his help), pushing his hands away when they attempted to move to her curvaceous body. She longed to have him touch her but she knew that the first time she allowed it that part two of Brock's Welcome Home Celebration would be forgotten.

She toweled off his torso, planting kisses along his back and shoulders, chest and neck. She permitted him to help her to dry and accepted similar kisses on her skin in return. Once again, when they departed the bathroom they didn't head to the bed. Instead Meredith, still nude, ushered him toward the door.

Brock, with a towel around his waist, balked at wandering through the house with no clothes on.

"Where's Randi?" he asked.

"She went out with Tiffany this evening," Meredith said. "She won't be home until morning."

Knowing there wasn't anyone else in the house eased Brock's discomfort but he still kept his towel on until he could be sure the blinds on the door that led to the pool area were closed. The pool was hidden from view but you could see in the back door from almost all the houses in the subdivision.

Meredith showed him to a chair in the dining room and went to the refrigerator.

"I stopped and picked up things to make a fruit salad for you," she said. She pulled the bowl out, set it on the table and handed him a fork. "While you enjoy the cantaloupe, strawberries and grapes, I'll have a banana."

She sat down on the floor in front of his chair, pulled open his robe and sucked his erection into her mouth.

"Jesus!" Brock said. "I'll drip fruit juice on your head if you're not careful."

Meredith pulled away long enough to look up at him.

"By the time we're done, I'll be covered in sweat and our juices," she promised with an evil smile. "A little fruit juice won't bother me in the least. Enjoy your evening snack while I enjoy mine."

Brock reached down to fondle Meredith's breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

"I'll want some extra melon," he said.

"All you want," Meredith said, groaning at the sensations his fingers were producing. "Anytime you want."

She sought to distract him by lowering her head back to where it had been. The food on the table was completely forgotten as he continued to cup her breast and she continued to lick around the head of his erection.

"We're going to end up where we were in Tampa," Brock said. "With you on your back on the table."

Meredith's eyes looked up at him but her mouth continued its motions for a few more moments. She had considered that Brock's mind would become preoccupied and had a contingency plan.

"You need to eat," she said. "I know you guys rushed out the locker room. I'm sure they fed you on the plane but I know you're always hungry when you get home. So I guess I'll just have to feed you."

She helped to move his chair to the side and straddled his lap. She watched the love and lust in his eyes as she lowered herself onto him until their pubic bones rested together.

With a shaking hand, she picked up a strawberry from the bowl and placed it between her lips. Then she leaned forward until she could share it with him. The movement brought her tender nipples in contact with his warm skin and Meredith moaned in her throat as Brock took his half of the berry from her. She repeated the action with a small piece of watermelon, then a grape.

By the time the bowl was only slightly consumed, Meredith's wetness had seeped down Brock's erection until his testicles and the chair beneath them were soaked.

"I'm full," Brock muttered as his hands sought out Meredith's bottom to urge her to increase her movements.

"No, I'm full," Meredith replied. "I feel wonderfully full. This is a great way to make love."