Up to Bat
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
Up to Bat
Love off the Baseball Field
Kindle Version
Copyright © TLB Publishing 2017
All Rights Reserved
Cover Design: Toye Lawson Brown and Lenny C. Middlebrooks
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I acknowledge god as the head of my life and without him; I would not be able to do what I enjoy. Second, I like to acknowledge my family for giving me strength and support to keep me going when I want to quit at times. No dream is worth having if you aren’t willing to put in the effort. My family enforces my efforts. I must not forget my team of beta readers. They are fantastic and I would be lost without them. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
DISCLAMER
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for the buyer’s personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold, uploaded via the internet, copied, printed, or redistributed without the written permission of the publisher or author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to the retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Other Novels By Toye Lawson Brown
Romantic Suspense Novels
Obsessive/Obsession (Out of Print)
Nyla’s Dilemma – The End of Justice
Law and Disorder: Partners Undercover
When The Music Stops
A Journey For Justice
Obsessed With Taylor James
Jenna Where Are You
Proving His Innocence
Caught In The Trap
Love and Romance
Fighting The Desires
A Love Delayed
Beautiful Music
Calling For Rayne
The Reunion
Let Me Serve You
Scenes To Steal The Heart
Scenes To Steal The Heart: The Final Act
The Perfect Combination
Love and Romance Series
Teach Me To Love Again
Chasing Love
On Top Of The Mountain
Love At Camp Black Bear
Something Different
Never Leave Me Again
Text “Yes’ If You Love Me
The Men of CLE-FD Firefighter Series
Smoke & Fire A Firefighter’s Love Story
The Men of CLE-FD The Orlando Torres Story
Burned
Rekindle The Flames
The Eyes Of A Stranger
Chapter One
Jack Penny had waited forever for this day to come. He’d been placed on the disabled list not long ago due to an elbow injury. The injury happened when the Cleveland Chiefs were pummeling the Yankees, when the pitcher decided to take his frustrations out on Jack, who was up to bat. He threw a hundred-mile-an-hour fastball, which caught Jack on the elbow, breaking it and ending his season. After a bench-clearing brawl, the manager was ejected from the game, and the pitcher was suspended for the rest of the season.
That left little solace for Jack. Nothing pissed him off more than having to sit on the bench and watch his team lose games they would’ve won if he were playing.
A series of injuries had kept him off the field lately. The injuries to his knees threatened to end his career. However, today, he was optimistic the doctor would okay his return to baseball. He would have to go through the chain of command before reclaiming his spot on the roster. He was fine with that, as long as he was back in full form before the home opener.
Jack had suffered meniscus tears in both knees. He knew there was a problem with his knees, but fought through the pain against his manager’s and trainer’s wishes. The injections gave him some relief, but the catching in his left knee joint as he maneuvered through various motions increased the more he played.
He felt his left knee locking up more, making it virtually impossible to pivot when swinging the bat, running, or sliding, all of which, incidentally, probably led to the tear in the first place.
Once it had been determined there were minor meniscal tears in his right knee, they were fixed via arthroscopic surgery. The left knee, however, proved to be more problematic. A large tear had caused the knee to lose a bigger piece of its cushion, resulting in bone friction. The pain made it unbearable for him to do his job effectively.
Jack paced the office. Liza Charles was the first female doctor ever to get his attention. When she talked, he listened. The soft tone of her voice and gentle touch of her hands put him in a trance.
Smitten was what he was. The beautiful African-American doctor with shoulder-length black hair and flawless mocha skin had turned his world upside down. Her professionalism and bedside manner were top-notch. To him, she was everything wrapped in a shapely package.
Fans and other people assumed there was a stereotypical athlete side to Jack Penny. His life had quickly turned into something bigger than he ever could have expected when he got drafted from college. Press. Parties. Groupies. He could have anything he wanted, but every foot on the baseball field he thought about what he wanted. His coaches and trainers used to say to him: “Stay true to yourself, and good things will happen.” That was what he did. He wanted to play a clean game and keep a clean image.
The roar from the fans grew bigger over the years, and so did fan mail from crazy women offering to perform unusual sex acts for him. The problem with that was he was a nice guy that would never take advantage of a crazy or desperate woman. However, his niceness was never taken as a weakness with the franchise. Jack did not stumble over his words when making decisions. He was always clear and concise when voicing himself.
The sound of the door opening startled Jack. Looking down at a chart, Dr. Charles didn’t notice when Jack hopped on the exam table. He pulled up the basketball shorts to expose his knees, as always. It didn’t matter that it was winter, and snowflakes were falling; for doctor appointments, he wore shorts. The tiny scar on the right knee was barely noticeable. The surgical scar on the left knee was more noticeable. The scar on his elbow was also noticeable. He referred to the scars as badges: he’d earned them by playing hard for the sport he loved.
Dr. Charles went over to the desk, dropped the chart on the table, and sat on the stool. She still had not spoken a word. Jack cleared his throat, thinking the noise would get her attention. It wasn’t like they talked a lot during his visits, but she usually spoke first.
Dr. Charles spun around on the stool to face him. “Good morning, Mr. Penny. How are you today?”
“Depends on what you have to say, Dr. Charles.”
“Well, your right knee is
healing as expected. Therapy has tightened the muscle, and the remaining protective cartilage looks good.”
“I’m glad to hear that, but what about my left knee? That’s a bigger issue.”
She looked up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes, and his heart fluttered. “Mr. Penny, I wish I had better news for you.”
His heart dropped, taking his hopes and dreams with it. “What? Is it not healing? It feels fine when I move it around.”
“It’s healing, but just more slowly than I expected.”
“This can’t be real.”
She touched his left knee and examined it carefully. Her hand was warm on his skin. The contrast of her skin against his white flesh usually would send his temperature soaring. That wasn’t happening with the anticipation of her news. How could he be washed up at his age? Baseball players had longevity compared to contact sports. There were nine innings of standing around waiting for the right pitch or for a ball to fly out in whatever field position. Jack should not be thinking about retirement at thirty-four. His aggressive playing style was ending his career.
Dr. Charles pushed on the area around the incision. Jack flinched. “Does that hurt?” she asked.
“You are pushing on it, so yeah.”
“There is swelling. It shouldn’t hurt when I do this.”
She pushed again, and he winced again. “Then stop doing that, because it hurts. You know, I’ve been hitting the weights and exercises hard, trying to get my knees in shape. Maybe I’ve overdone it.”
She rolled the stool away from him and over to the desk, looking at him. “You could be overworking the muscle. Doing that will wear out the protective cartilage and increase inflammation, which is what’s happening. I’m afraid rehab will be a little longer.”
“How much longer?”
She sighed. “Maybe several months.”
He groaned and ran his hand through his dark hair. “I cannot afford to sit out another season. Come on, Dr. Charles, there has to be something you can do.”
She folded her arms, wrinkling her white lab coat in the process. Jack wished that, for once, she would not wear the lab coat, so he could see more of her. Today, she had on pants that covered her shapely legs. The day of the surgery, he remembered lying on the gurney with her leaning over him in full scrubs. A paper bonnet thing covered her hair. His vision was blurry from the anesthesia, but he recalled her smile and soft voice reassuring him that everything would be okay. He’d wake up in the recovery room in about an hour.
“Remember, I explained to you that the meniscus itself does not have a great blood supply, which means tears don’t tend to heal well; hence my reluctance to repair it.”
“Yeah, I remember,” he said. “You also said I’d be okay.”
“Yes, and I said players who typically have this type of injury have a partial meniscectomy instead of a repair. You didn’t want a partial removal.”
“That would end my career.”
“I’m aware; that’s why I let you decide what you wanted.”
“I’ll take the blame for pushing myself too hard and for making a stupid decision about the surgery. What I need you to answer is: will I ever play again? Just tell me the truth, Dr. Charles.”
“As I’ve explained to you before, playing with a meniscal injury like yours is not advisable. You’ll have to contend with unpredictability every time you take the field. The injury can affect your swing because it limits your ability to pivot. Your speed will be affected, especially rounding corners. Mr. Penny, the injury will impact your base-stealing ability. You currently hold the record for that, right?”
He nodded. “So far.”
“I’m sorry to say this will not only affect speed but the ability to slide, especially feet first.”
“Are you saying I’m done with baseball?” Jack slid off the exam table, feeling the onset of rage building in his body. He wanted to hit a wall or something hard to take away the shock and frustration.
“I think you need another six months for your left knee to heal thoroughly. I’ll reevaluate, and if I see a significant decrease in inflammation, you might be able to return midseason.”
“Training camp starts in two weeks. Midseason is too late to help the team advance. Without me, they don’t have a chance in hell to reach the World Series this year. Dr. Charles, you do understand this season is a wash for me no matter what my knee looks like in three months.”
She put her hand on his forearm. “I wish I had better news for you. You’re welcome to get a second opinion if you’d like, but I’m positive the diagnosis will be the same.”
Jack lowered his eyes to see her hand on his arm. Standing at six feet, four inches tall, he towered over the woman who was ruining his career. He was an athlete before anything else. He excelled at many sports, including football, basketball, and soccer—none of which he’d ever play again.
Harshly, he grabbed his jacket off the chair. “A second opinion by a doctor with more experience sounds about right.”
“Mr. Penny, if questioning my abilities makes you feel better, then cheers to you. However, it won’t change that your knees are critical and a threat to end your career.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You suggested the second opinion—I’m following orders.”
“What you’re doing is looking for an answer you want to hear. I have no doubt you’ll find a doctor who’ll put you back on the field by pumping you with steroids and pills. Be assured the injections and pills will not fix the problem, but create another reason you won’t play baseball.”
“Not playing baseball is not acceptable. I have a damn commitment to my teammates and the fans of this city.” His deep voice vibrated off the walls of the small office.
Dr. Charles kept her cool, looking up at him. “Then accept you’ll be looking at a full knee replacement within a year or two. What professional sport will you play then, Mr. Penny?”
He snatched open the door, storming out of the exam room. In the waiting room, he saw people staring at him, and not in a good way, as he made his way to the door. The medical assistants working behind the desk were watching him too. He knew why. The walls were thin, and they’d heard him yelling at the beautiful Dr. Charles.
Pressing the down button on the elevator, Jack sucked in a deep breath. He’d just represented the Cleveland Chiefs in the worst way. Once word got back to the franchise, he’d be summoned to the front office to face the music. Surely, he’d have to pay a hefty fine or do some community service to redeem himself.
He was their golden boy. It had been a long time since a white baseball player, in Cleveland, held that honor. The Hispanic guys coming up in the league were swinging the bat hard and taking over America’s favorite pastime. They were the role models for aspiring baseball players.
The doors opened, and Jack stepped inside. He heard the gasps from two blonde women as he moved to the back of the car. His popularity with fans made him immediately recognizable, and even women not into baseball knew of him. These two kept turning around, flirting openly.
Usually, he’d take the stairs to avoid a ruckus when he had a doctor’s appointment, but his knee was hurting. Dr. Charles’ office was on the fourteenth floor of the medical building, and pounding down several flights of concrete stairs would only add to his misery.
Cornered like a dog, he smiled and agreed to autographs. One woman requested that he sign her chest. Who was he not to oblige? He signed his name above her breasts. The other opted to have her wrist signed, and they both got selfies. Even though his mood was funky, he refused to take it out on his fans.
More autographs ensued before he made it out of the building and to his SUV. Talking with those people made him feel lower than dirt. The way he’d spoken to Dr. Charles was rude and not in his character at all. Sitting behind the wheel of his custom-designed Land Rover that accommodated his height, he looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. Jack then made a mental note to call the orthopedic doctor to apologize for his be
havior.
Chapter Two
Liza’s cheeks burned from the heat. Taking crap from patients when she didn’t deserve it came with the territory, but enough was enough. She came from a long line of doctors. Her mother and father were surgeons and part owners of a family practice in Lyndhurst. Her grandfather was a pediatrician until his retirement at seventy-two. Other family members included cousins, aunts, and two nieces, plus her younger sister, who was currently doing her residency at University Hospitals.
Liza had selected orthopedics mainly to break through the male-dominated field. Her entrance into the field was not welcomed for two reasons. One, she was a young woman, and two, she was black. While other male doctors performed surgeries on patients, she was only allowed to do preliminary examinations or help prep for surgeries. Never was she allowed to perform any surgeries on her own since completing the surgical residency program.
Leaving that facility feeling let down, she’d accepted a position with the world-renowned Cleveland Clinic Orthopedic & Rheumatologic Institute, where she specialized in sports injuries. Here, she performed surgeries almost every Tuesday and Thursday, or handled emergency surgeries when they arose.
She was one of the team physicians for Cleveland’s professional baseball and basketball teams, the Chiefs and the Lake Erie Kings. She also treated college and high school athletes from around the world. Liza had found her calling and loved it.
Like at any job, she had good and bad days. She’d considered Jack Penny one of the nicer pro athletes, when he was nothing more than an egotistical blowhard. While sympathetic to him, she did not deserve the treatment he had unleashed on her today.
She tossed the medical file on the desk and said, “Candace, keep Mr. Penny’s file out. I have a feeling we’ll be getting a call from another orthopedist.”
“You don’t have to throw it at me.” Candace picked up the chart and placed it in the basket. “He was really loud. It shocked us to hear him go off like that.”
“That’s what happens when the news isn’t what you expect. I’m sure he won’t be returning,” Liza said, walking to her office with Candace on her heels.