The Next Best Thing

Chapter 21

He was just going to tell her. Just like that. The offers from the station honchos had changed slightly. Unexpectedly, really. Mitch was excited. There wasn't anything to tip-toe around. So why did he feel he had to?

If Emma didn't want to move to Chicago, she didn't, and that was fine because there was still plan B. Maybe he felt funny telling her about it because he'd told her how much he hated traveling for work. A person had a right to change his mind. Didn't make it any less true about his past when he said it, but this was his future. To be honest, he was a little surprised at his reaction when he was presented the option. Practically shook on it then and there.

It's one thing to joke about being tired and settled and old when you're really only the first two. Had he loved earning a comfortable career that only required him to love baseball and stay put? You bet. The stadium was his second home; the broadcasting booth his man-cave. His daily routine was simple, keeping his Shelby's odometer in the low figures. No wonder he found the perfect girl living next door. He'd been enjoying a phase in his life where good things came to him and not the other way around. The choice of his next career had fallen in his lap too, but he was at least old enough to recognize the end of one cycle and the beginning of another.

If the experience of trying to write his autobiography was teaching him anything, it was that he wasn't ready for the pasture just yet. Chasing ball players around was an active man's game, and goddammit, on a bigger payroll with a few extra comforts, he was still up to it. Maybe he was having one of those mid-life crisis things. He already had the fancy car and the younger woman. What was so wrong with wanting a job to keep him young?

Oh yeah, the woman might not like it.

The other reason he hesitated telling Emma his latest news was he sensed she'd been in a strange mood lately. On the surface, she acted like herself, but there were tiny hints of something else. Anxiety maybe? Or insecurity she didn't want to share. Little looks, little side comments, always in jest, about how things were different now that Gabe was gone. It could have been she was just feeling her feelings, but it did make him wonder how she'd feel about this. If she didn't like it, there wasn't much he could do about it. He hoped she would, but, well, he'd cross that bridge when they got to it. He just wasn't in any hurry.

They got to The Cove Atlantis resort on Paradise Island two days before the New Year and were spoiled deliciously rotten. They spent their days at the beach, their nights at the casino or the bar, and all the hours in between inspecting each other for tan lines in the room. Modesty prevailed, and Emma could not hold up her lineless end of the bargain. Mitch traced the borders of her tanning progress with kisses and counted himself lucky to do so.

It was their last full day at the beach, sunning and sleeping off a New Year's Eve party from the night before, when Mitch finally decided he couldn't put off the talk any longer. He began super casually.

"So you know how the guys in Chicago said if I did the All-Timers program, I could commute as needed? Well, they came back to me and said, logistically and financially, it just didn't make any sense."

On her lounger, Emma turned her head to look at him, shielding her eyes from the sun with her raised arm.

"What does that mean?"

"Means I'd have to move to Chicago," Mitch said.

"Chicago! But...what did you say?"

"I said I'd have to check with you. I'd want you to come with me."

She made a face like she'd eaten a bad burrito and slid her hands nervously over her tanning-oiled stomach.

"Mitch, I can't move to the States. How long will it be till I'm able to work? What'll I do all day? Are you going to support me?"