So he’d deal. He’d be the best goddamn middle-inning reliever they had, and when they realized that, they’d put him back in the starting rotation.
He’d give it a week. A week and he’d be a starter again.
*
A WEEK LATER, HE WAS STILL PITCHING MIDDLE INNINGS. He’d done fine in relief, had walked a few, struck out some, and put a couple on base. He’d given up two runs, which sucked. Still, he would liked to have left those players on base.
But he was getting his form back, his arm felt good, and he was pitching some innings.
Middle innings.
Fuck, this was driving him crazy.
To make matters worse, he had the media crawling up his ass about his shoulder and his new position as a middle-inning reliever. He’d explained, and the coach had explained, that this was only temporary, that this was part of his rehab, and that he’d be starting games again in no time. Which had gotten the media into a frenzy, speculating that there was still something wrong with his shoulder and he’d never be a starting pitcher again.
He’d rolled his eyes over that one. As if he didn’t have a mountain’s worth of his own self-doubts weighing him down, the media had to add to it?
“You ready for me to stretch you?”
He looked up to see Alicia standing over him. He hadn’t even realized there was anyone else in the workout room. But now, there were other players filing in to do their pregame warm-ups.
It was the home opener today. Normally, he’d be excited as hell about the home crowd, the home stadium. Normally, he’d pitch the home opener. He always had. At least since he’d been a starting pitcher.
Today, Walter Segundo would start the game. Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d get to throw some middle-inning pitches, but Segundo was a strong pitcher and could often carry the game until the closer came in, in the eighth or ninth. Garrett might not get to pitch in the opener at all.
“Garrett,” Alicia said again. “Let’s stretch that shoulder.”
He looked up at Alicia, wondering if he’d made the right choice a few months ago when he’d told the doctors and coaches that he wanted to work with Alicia. Maybe he should have stayed with Max, the head of the sports-medicine department.
He felt disloyal to Alicia just thinking it. He was pitching now, where before he’d done nothing but feel sorry for himself, convinced he’d never pitch again.
He was pitching again, just not the way he’d envisioned. Surely that wasn’t Alicia’s fault. Or maybe it was. She was responsible for his recovery, wasn’t she? She’d told him she’d get him on the mound again. She’d done that, but not in the way he wanted.
Shit. He didn’t know what to think anymore.
“Garrett?”
He got up and followed her. “Yeah. Sure.”
At the table he kept his eyes closed, concentrating on his arm, on what it was supposed to be doing that it wasn’t, while Alicia stretched him.
“You’re very quiet today.”
“Just thinking.”
“About the game?”
“Yeah.”
“I hope you’ll get some work in today. Be sure to keep your arm loose.”
“I don’t think you need to tell me what to do in the bullpen.”
She didn’t say anything after that, which was fine with him. They hadn’t seen much of each other over the past week. They’d been on the road, and the two of them hadn’t spent much time together other than her doing his therapy. They’d met on the field and in the workout room, but there’d been so much going on with media interviews and the games that they’d had no alone time. Alicia was rooming with the other female therapist, and Garrett had one of his teammates as a roommate.
They’d hardly spoken, other than as player and therapist. Not since he’d snapped at her when he’d found out he was going to be assigned as a middle-inning relief pitcher.
Which had probably been for the best. Garrett hadn’t exactly been the best company lately.
He hadn’t called her when they’d gotten back into town, either. Too much was going on in his head, and none of it was pleasant. She probably knew it, too, because she hadn’t said anything about it, just showed up at the facility with her usual smiling face, patiently working on his shoulder as if nothing had changed, when in fact everything had. At least for him.
He didn’t deserve to have someone like her in his life.
Her hands on him felt good, though, and when she rolled him over to massage his back and shoulders, she released some of the tension he’d been holding in. At least physically.
There was nothing she could do to take away the doubts in his mind.
“Okay, sit up,” she said.
He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head.
She looked at him, and he was reminded that, despite those ugly physical therapy uniforms they wore, she was still beautiful. He didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it all those months ago.
She gave him a smile. “You’re going to do great today.”
“Yeah, if I get on the mound at all.”