Fisher's Light
Page 65

Instead of picturing Fisher’s face as Bob winds up and throws the ball, I picture his father’s arrogant mug flying towards me and I swing as hard as I can. The smack of the ball against the bat stings my hands and I stand frozen in complete shock as it flies above everyone’s heads. I hear people screaming and clapping, but I don’t move. I think I’m supposed to move. I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to run, but I can’t stop staring at the ball soaring into the outfield. I suddenly hear Fisher scream louder than anyone else and when he tacks on the word “baby” at the end of his shout, my heart skips a beat and my feet start moving. I can’t wipe the huge grin off of my face as my feet pound into the dirt and I run as fast as I can around the bases. When I’m halfway between second and third, I see the outfielders get to the ball and throw it towards home. I push my legs harder and, even though the entire team is now out of the dugout and on the sidelines, I can only see Fisher standing there, jumping up and down with a huge smile on his face.
I slide into home just as the ball zooms into the catcher’s mitt and when Butch announces I’m safe, I scream through the cloud of dust surrounding me. Pushing myself up from the ground, I quickly shove my way through the crowd of people jumping and shouting around me until I find Fisher. I throw myself into his arms and he lifts me up, holding me tight. It feels like we’re the only two people on the field. It feels like the last few years never happened and we’re back in time, happily married and enjoying yet another Fourth of July softball game together. I take his hat off of my head so I can see his face better, clutching it in my hands behind his head. I get so lost in the moment, smiling and laughing with him, that I don’t see Stanford walk out onto the field and stand next to us until he says my name.
I don’t want to move out of Fisher’s arms. It feels so right being wrapped up in him, feeling his heart beat against mine and listening to him laugh, just like the old days. Unfortunately, I’m technically still dating Stanford, even though I’ve already decided to end things with him. He’s a good man and I don’t want to embarrass him in front of all these people. It’s bad enough I was clutching onto my ex-husband like I never wanted to let him go while he watched. I will not be the whore Fisher’s father accuses me of being, and I can’t figure this thing out with Fisher until I end things with Stanford.
When Fisher releases me, Stanford grabs my hand and pulls me closer to him. I take one last look at Fisher over my shoulder, trying to tell him with my eyes and my smile that I’m sorry. I hear a gasp from somewhere in the crowd around us and turn away from Fisher to see Stanford down on one knee in front of me.
Oh, no! Oh, my God, what is happening right now?!
Stanford smiles up at me and I see him reaching into the front pocket of his neatly pressed, button-down shirt. I stupidly ask him what he’s doing, even though it’s perfectly CLEAR what’s going on, and I tell him to get up. He doesn’t listen, of course, instead going right into his speech about how he loves me before he asks me to marry him. I am stunned completely stupid. My mouth is hanging open like I’m trying to catch flies and he slides the ring on my finger before I even have a chance to give him an answer. It’s huge and heavy and it feels completely foreign on my finger. I immediately hate it and want to yank it off and toss it into the outfield where my ball went. Nothing makes me miss the simple quarter carat solitaire and plain gold band that Fisher gave me more than this monstrosity weighing down my finger.
I’m so busy missing those rings and wishing I’d never sent them back with the divorce papers that I’m in a complete daze. When my eyes fill with tears of regret for something I no longer have, Stanford takes it as a sign of acceptance of his proposal, jumping up from the ground and wrapping me in his arms as the crowd around us starts chanting my name again and clapping.
Why are they so happy when all I want to do is cry? I search behind me for Fisher and I don’t see him anywhere. I wish he had been my voice when I couldn’t speak, but why the hell would he do that when I’ve been avoiding him and haven’t given him any solid proof that I still love him and miss him? I wish he would have told Stanford to fuck off and that I was his. I wish I could say that to Stanford right now, but Jesus, did he HAVE to do this in front of all these people? I don’t want to hurt him when he’s been nothing but kind and sweet to me, and I certainly don’t want to embarrass him in front of the entire town by telling him I don’t love him and I never will. I have no idea what he was thinking by proposing to me. We haven’t even had sex yet and he thinks he’s in love with me and wants to spend the rest of his life with me? Is he insane? I clutch Fisher’s ball cap to my chest and my throat burns with the need to cry.
The crowd gets more and more worked up with their chanting and clapping and I’m still wondering why the hell they’re so happy about this when suddenly, ice cold water is being dumped all over my head. It pours down over top of me like a waterfall, ice cubes bouncing off of my shoulders and getting stuck down the front of my tank top. I sputter and let out a few choking laughs as I wipe the water from my eyes, opening them to see the crowd completely surrounding me in a tight circle, bouncing up and down.
“Lucy, we’ve decided you’re the MVP of today’s game!” someone shouts.
“We couldn’t have won the game without you!”
“Lucy! Lucy! Lucy!”
I get lost in their excitement and forget about the mess that is my life as I jump up and down with them, laughing and shouting. I feel a hand grip my arm tightly and I’m tugged out of the circle of celebration mid-bounce. I stumble as Stanford pulls me a few feet away from everyone, finally dropping my arm when we’re out of earshot from the crowd.