Beginning of the end

Part 1 [Feb '21]

Things with Kiefer were good. Blake was happy, and successful. She was living a life she enjoyed and moving toward an even better one. Her wedding was barely fifteen months away, and her band was looking at touring dates for the beginning of 2022. In a surprising turn of events, an old classmate of hers and Carla's, back from Nevada posted a picture on Instagram and tagged Blake. It was a picture of Blake up to bat back in her softball days. She was young, in shape, focused, and not at all depressed. It was a lifetime ago. Blake was still in shape, thanks to rigid structure from Carla, but the depression was rather relevant. Her focus was torn. She had to maintain her fiancé, her daughter, and her career. It had been a while since she got to play any softball. Maybe she should.

"You want to do what?" Carla heard, but still asked. Blake knew this, so she didn't bother to repeat herself. She was looking through her workout gear in the closet at the moment. Kiefer was working, as per usual, and Blake actually had a bit of free time while Zelda was in day care.

"Do you even still own a bat, hermana?"

"No, but they can probably rent me one, right?"

"I guess...."

"Could you come?"

Blake adored Carla, and she was not used to doing things on her own. Unfortunately this wasn't going to work. Carla explained that, surprisingly, she had day plans with her beau. Lucky them. Three years together. They were more stable than Blake and Kiefer, but not even engaged. Whatever worked for them. Point being, Carla was busy. This was disappointing, but Blake would manage. She pulled out the appropriate shoes and wished her friend a nice date. Her next task was finding an appropriate batting cage. Carla had correctly assumed Blake knew that the picture was some weird clout chase, but it didn't matter much. Blake wasn't some big celebrity, but it was enough that Blake did not want recognized while trying to rekindle her love of sport. She found a low-key looking golf place that just so happened to have a batting cage, and set out with her bag, and a subtle black ball cap. Today's outfit was athletic leggings, a sport bra top with a loose shirt over it, her hat, no piercings in besides two plain cross studs, and a distinct lack of bold makeup. She wore a tiny bit, as per usual, but she was toned down from her everyday flair. Her engagement ring remained on, but she would take it off later. She stopped by a store for some batting gloves and finally arrived at the place.

Just as chill as she'd hoped.

Behind the counter was a girl who didn't look a day over sixteen. She was looking simultaneously bored and absorbed into her phone to the neglect of everything else. She wore bright pink eyeshadow, and a neon pink polo shirt, with skinny jeans that might as well have been leggings. Her hair was dark brown with red accents, and Blake almost expected to see her pop a bubble in some gum before she looked up. She did look up when Blake stood at the counter though.

Her phone returned to her pocket, and Blake observed the manicured nails and pink and black sneakers. The pink and black was reminiscent of Blake's own outfit. She wore black leggings with pink x's up the sides of her calves. She liked the combination. She girl put on a smile that would have looked more sincere if she did not seem so surprised. "Hey. Do you uh..." she looked around, "what can I help you with?"

She didn't seem too bad. Blake smiled back at her.

"How do your batting cages work?"

This was not the right wording. "Uh, you stand in and it pitches the ball."

Blake had used batting cages before. Maybe not for a while, but she had. Even since her high school days. For kicks. "Right... how do I rent it? Pay outside, pay in here? Where are the cages?"

"Oh! Sorry," the girl laughed. She pointed out a window. "They are back there. You can pay with quarters outside or rent a time in here. Like... five balls for two quarters. Twenty bucks for a half hour, or thirty for an hour. You hit the button every five balls cause its set up that way, but you can hit it as much as you want in your time slot. Yeah?"

"Si." Right? Yeah. "So you... have bats or a helmet I could borrow?" She felt more incompetent for the questions.

"Yeah, behind you." Blake turned around. She was right. Bats and helmets hung up on the wall. Not too many though. "It's a dollar extra to borrow our gear. Wear and tear, and... stuff." Blake assumed she would have said a different word normally.

"That sounds perfect. Fast pitch Softball?"

"Yeah, cage... two. And slow is one. They're labelled out there."

Blake nodded. "Thank you. Here." She pulled out her money. A dollar to rent, and twenty more for the half hour. Maybe she was being overly ambitious. Maybe she was going to suck and be discouraged, but she was sure that wasn't the case. This would be fine. She was excited. The excitement only increased as she fitted the helmet down over her own cap. She could have taken that off, but apparently not. The snug fit of the protective padding against her ears was nostalgic. She needed earbuds next time. She was already planning for it.

With a bat in Blake's hand, she approached cage number two. A man in a dingy brown shirt set the machine up for her. She stepped in, righting herself as he turned on the first pitch.

It flew past her in a blink. Maybe... It was too fast. She ignored this. She could do this. She missed the second swing. She frowned, leaning, and very nearly getting hit with the third. No, no, no.

"Is that speed okay for you? And the height? Should I adjust it?"

"Its great, gracias." She would make it work for her. Blake took a deep breath, ignoring the timed fourth ball flying past her again. This was fine. She swung.

Crack!

The ball went wildly to the left, hitting the cage. The reason these were cages. She started laughing. The man seemed satisfied, and he went to perform some other maintenance task. It was up to Blake to hit the button and get the balls flying again. She adjusted the grip on the bat. The sting of holding that metal bat as it reverberated off the conflicting momentum of a flying pitch was everything she forgot she loved it being. She hit the button, readying for the journey.