When it was time for me to get serious, I asked them to step back. I didn’t want to hurt any of them. After I threw a few balls, a couple of the kids ran off. I figured they had to go home.
About ten minutes later, a car pulled up, and several teen boys and an older man got out with the two younger boys who’d disappeared. The older man looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. They watched me pitch for a few minutes, then the older man walked out to the mound.
“My name is Mario Conde. I coach a local baseball team,” he said in perfect English.
“I’m David, and this is Cassidy,” I said as an introduction.
“Do you mind if some of my players take an at-bat?” he asked.
Just throwing to Cassidy wasn’t going to get me better against live batters, so I welcomed the challenge. Mario indicated a large kid should go first. I could tell he was their power hitter, so I grooved a three-quarter speed fastball to see what he could do. He didn’t disappoint me as he drove it out of the park.
He made a smart comment to his friends; I could tell by the tone of voice and that they all laughed. Their coach wasn’t amused. My next pitch was a full-speed curveball at his head. It looked like my last fastball, and he dove to the dirt as the ball broke for a strike.
His coach barked orders at him, and he was suddenly much more focused when he stepped into the batter’s box. My next pitch was a full-speed fastball he was late on. I then broke out the slider. I will give the kid credit, he was hacking away at everything I threw at him, but I had him guessing. After about ten more pitches, he guessed right on a changeup and whacked a solid base hit.
Their coach then sent up another one of his players. This guy had more patience, but I would have struck him out looking a couple of times before he swung at a pitch. My arm was starting to tire, so I stopped. They all watched as Cassidy did her level best to kill me with
After we were done, Coach Conde came to talk to me.
“We’re getting ready to play some summer ball. Would you be interested in practicing with us?” he asked.
“Are you a professional team?”
“Why?”
“I have to be careful with my amateur status if I want to play ball in college,” I explained.
“You should be fine. I think I could help you with your pitching,” he offered.
“I’m not always free, but I can try to make it to a few practices.”
“Good. Come by whenever you can,” Coach Conde said and gave me a sheet of paper that listed their practice schedule.
◊◊◊
Cassidy and I returned to the hotel to shower and eat dinner. I’d begged off on having a party in my room every night. It wasn’t like people got crazy, but I didn’t want to get a reputation, either. They did borrow a couple of DVDs, the player, and the monitor. Tonight, everyone was going to hang out in Kitty’s suite.
I wanted to stay in and make some calls. The one I’d been dreading was to Beth. She’d dropped her bomb about her feelings for me and then left in the middle of the night. We hadn’t had a chance to talk since then. I considered calling home first, but if Beth told Mrs. A, my mom would know and want details. I needed to speak with Beth, or I’d have to call my mom twice.
“David,” was the enthusiastic answer.
“Hey, Beth.”
“How’s Cuba?”
Okay, this wasn’t awkward.
“Good. How’ve you been?”
“About the other night …” she broached.
“Um, yeah … that was … nice.”
“It was, wasn’t it,” she said and then seemed to hesitate. “Could we maybe put my little declaration under the 24-hour rule?”
I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. The 24-hour rule said that if you said you loved someone within a day of having sex with them, it didn’t count; it was just the sex talking.
“Can I admit something?” I asked.
“You were worried you would have to go out with me!?”
“Quit teasing me,” I chastised her.
I admit it, I sounded like a girl, but Beth was one of my best friends and understood.
“I know. Next, you’ll be telling me it’s you and not me and that I’m a fantastic person,” Beth continued her torment.
“Well …”
“David! I’m telling your mother,” she threatened.
“We both know that’s an empty threat. I’m in Cuba, and she can’t do anything about it,” I said in a haughty voice.
“Live in your fantasy world for now. We both know you have to come home sometime.”
“By then, she’ll have forgotten,” I tried.
She just laughed at me. My mom NEVER forgot anything. Then Beth got serious.
“Hey, I really did mean what I said. I apologize for dumping that on you and running, but I knew it was too much too soon.”
“Beth, let’s be clear. We’re outside the 24-hour rule boundaries right now. I do love you, and when we’re older, I’d love to get serious with you. Maybe we could wait until I at least get out of high school before we make a life commitment,” I suggested.
Believe me, I knew what a hypocrite I was being. Tami had used a similar argument on me more than once.
