Left Field Love
: Chapter 36

“That’s all for today, folks. Grab an application for the Fulright Fellowship on the way out, if you’re interested. Keep up the caffeine consumption!”

As soon as Professor Glannon stops speaking, the lecture hall erupts in activity. Laptops are closed. Pens clicked. Backpacks unzipped.

“What’s the Fulright Fellowship?” I ask Eric as we pack up our bags.

“It’s a grant for continuing study in the field of journalism,” Eric explains. “It usually involves placement at an elite newspaper and it’s open to every senior journalism major at any school in the country. Clarkson students have won before, but it’s hard to do. Super competitive.”

“How do you apply?”

“There’s an essay prompt. Also, to qualify for consideration, you have to have spent a couple of years working for a newspaper in some capacity.”

“Oh.” I expected the requirements to be something I couldn’t meet. Not being a senior year transfer, for example. But…I could apply, it sounds like. “Are you going to apply?”

Eric laughs. “Yeah, of course. Along with a bunch of other fellowships. Aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. I only just learned about it now.”

“Don’t you want to work for a paper?”

“Of course.”

“Then you should definitely apply. I’ll read your essay for you, if you want. Give you some feedback before you send the application in.”

“Thanks,” I tell him. “What’s the prompt?”

“Can people change?”

“Really? That sounds like a question on a philosophy final, not for a journalism grant.”

Eric shrugs as we walk outside. “They’re looking for good writers. It’s not a research assignment you need sources for or an interview you have to conduct. Just show them you’re capable of writing something compelling. If you can write it about a three-word prompt, you can write it about breaking news.”

I nod. “That makes sense.”

“If you want to talk about it more, we can meet in the library one night this week. I—I’ll see you later, Lennon.” Eric changes whatever he was going to say once he sees what I’ve just spotted.

Caleb is sitting on the bench across from the journalism building, talking on the phone as he waits for me. We’re supposed to go grab lunch off-campus.

“Thanks, Eric. See you next class.”

Eric nods and disappears into the crowd. I met him, Abby, Amanda, and Joe at a local coffee shop last weekend to work on assignments. None of them mentioned Caleb or brought up what happened the last time we all hung out at the pizzeria.

It was nice. It made me feel like I’m replaceing my own place here, not just fitting into Caleb’s world.

He looks up and smiles as I approach. Caleb is wearing a Jays baseball cap, one Gramps gave him for his birthday last year. Gramps mostly loved Caleb because he knew how much I do. But I know it secretly thrilled him I was dating the Caleb Winters, baseball star.

And Gramps was obsessed with baseball. He could name every player’s hometown and rattle off years of stats at the drop of a hat.

Once upon a time, at least. There were days he couldn’t remember what year it was, much less the team’s starting line-up.

He’s been gone for three months. In some ways, it feels like far more time has passed. My life today looks so wildly different than I ever imagined it being. I’ve met people and experienced things I never would have in Landry.

In other ways, I’m not sure I’ve fully accepted he’s gone. There are moments when I’ll catch myself living in that fantasy world. When I’ve just woken up, or been focused on something else, and I’ll think of something I want to tell him. The split seconds it takes to recall that I can’t are some of the hardest ones to get through.

Grief isn’t a linear path from loss to rediscovering joy and laughter. It’s a trail of zigs and zags, of ups and downs, that eventually leads to more happy days than sad ones. It’s a journey that never really ends, just becomes easier to travel.

It also has a way of making some things more meaningful. Others less so. It’s a reminder not a single moment we have is guaranteed. That worry about the future takes time away from the present.

“Yeah, okay. Bye.”

Caleb hangs up the phone right as I reach him. Stands, so I’m looking up at him instead of down.

“Hey. How was class?” he asks, slipping his phone in his pocket and then pulling his hat off to run a hand through his hair.

I don’t think Caleb has any idea how that move affects me. If he did, he’d do it all the time, just to amuse himself.

Sometimes, no matter how well you know a person or how many times you’ve looked at them, you stare at them the way a stranger would. And Caleb is just…really hot.

“Lennon?”

“Good, yeah. Class was good.”

Caleb nods as we start walking along the paved path toward the parking lot. I’ve taken an elbow to the side or experienced a close call with the skateboarders who love to fly around campus many times before. But Caleb walking beside me is like being enclosed in a bubble. Everyone walks around us, instead of trying to walk through straight.

“Have you heard of the Fulright Fellowship?” I ask.

“No. Why? What is it?”

“It’s a journalism grant. I don’t know much about it. My professor mentioned it at the end of class, and Eric was telling me more on the way out.”

“Are you going to apply?”

“I guess so. Apparently, it’s really hard to get.”

“I have faith in you, Matthews.”

I smile. “Who were you talking to?”

“Colt.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Pretty good. He wants to plan a winter break trip, since we’ll both be tied up with baseball over spring break.”

We reach his truck. Caleb tosses his baseball bag from the cab into the bed, and then we’re headed downtown. He takes me to a hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop I’ve never been to before. Gramps and I hardly ever ate out and Landry has a small selection of restaurants. Exploring all of the eating options here has been an unexpected highlight of attending Clarkson.

Caleb pays for my lunch.

It’s something he’s always done, ever since we first started dating. He’s a perfect gentleman when it comes to the tiny details most guys don’t seem to bother with—opening doors for me and walking closer to the street when we’re on the sidewalk.

When it comes to money, he’s never bought me extravagant gifts or flaunted his wealth in any way.

I’m not even sure exactly how much money he has. I know he has a trust fund and I know he inherited a lot when his grandfather died. The only time he alluded to how much was when he brought me the bank account papers.

The bank account I haven’t touched. Because now that Matthews Farm has sold, I don’t need to. I have money of my own—lots of it.

And I haven’t told Caleb that.

I haven’t told him the property is gone or disclosed the dollar amount. Caleb hasn’t asked. So maybe he’s already assumed it sold. He knows as well as I do plenty of people with lots of money want to live in Landry. If there was more property available, working there would be a real estate agent’s dream. And the property that is available goes fast.

Once we’re settled at a table with our food, I decide to stop putting it off. It’s not like he won’t replace out about it. I’m sure it’s a topic of gossip in Landry. I don’t think Caleb has talked to either of his parents lately, or they probably would have mentioned it. Maybe now, they’ll stop thinking I’m after Caleb for his money, which has been heavily insinuated on the few occasions I’ve met Mr. and Mrs. Winters.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

He looks up from his turkey sandwich, expression serious. “Okay…”

“Don’t look so freaked out. It’s good news.”

Mostly good news, at least. It’s still strange to think someone else will be living on Matthews Farm. People born in Landry rarely leave. Until Caleb, there was never a thought I might end up somewhere else. I pictured getting married in the white church in town. Walking my own kids to Landry Elementary in the mornings the same way Gramps walked me. Growing old in the rocking chairs on the front porch of the farmhouse.

I didn’t ask the realtor for any details about the buyer when I signed all the paperwork. I’d rather picture it the way it was when I left for Colt’s birthday party. Not empty, the way it was the last time I saw it. And not bulldozed to make room for a larger house, maybe lots of larger houses, which is probably what’s happening right now.

“What?” Caleb raises one brow, waiting impatiently.

“I’m rich.” I smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe not compared to you. But compared to most people, I am.”

Caleb’s expression doesn’t change. “You sold the farm.”

His seriousness punctures the happiness I was trying to project. “Yeah. The closing was last week.”

He exhales heavily. “Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it?” I wasn’t sure how he’d react to the news. But I thought he’d say something more than a two-syllable word with no inflection.

He picks up his sandwich. “What do you want me to say, Lennon? It was your decision to make.”

“I wanted you to be happy about it, Caleb. I talked to Louis yesterday to check in on the horses. He said Winters Stables is interested in buying them all to add to the breeding program. Once that’s done, I won’t have any responsibilities in Landry. After graduation, I can move anywhere.”

“Because that’s what you want or because you think that’s what I want?”

“Caleb! Hey!” A female voice cuts through the tense moment. But Caleb doesn’t look away from me. Not right away.

Finally, he leans back and glances to the right. I follow his gaze. Sophie is walking this way, with a few girls behind her. They’re all in soccer jerseys, clearly having just come from a practice. Even sweaty and tired, they all look gorgeous. I think one of them was with Sophie at the party, but I can’t remember her name.

“Oh. Hi, Lennon.” My greeting is substantially less enthusiastic than Caleb’s was.

I muster a smile. “Hi, Sophie.”

She turns back to Caleb. “I should have known you’d be here. Remember sophomore year? You had lunch at this place almost every day.”

I take a bite of my egg salad. I know exactly what game she’s playing, and I’m not interested in engaging. So what if they ate lunch together while I was back in Landry, probably mucking out stalls? I’d bet it was with the whole friend group they seem to share.

And even if it wasn’t, I don’t really care. I’m more annoyed she interrupted our conversation, although I don’t know how I would have answered Caleb’s question. I don’t know where I want to live after graduation. So, I’m trying to open up all the possible options. I thought he’d appreciate that, not act like I’m making mistakes.

I keep eating my lunch, tuning out Sophie’s chatter. To his credit, Caleb isn’t really engaging. He mostly nods in answer to what she’s saying, leaving Sophie and her friends to carry the conversation.

By the time they finally turn to leave, I’ve finished my lunch.

Sophie spins back around instead of following the other girls over to the counter to order.

“Oh, I forgot. I was texting with Brian earlier. He said to say hi to you, Caleb.”

I glance at Caleb. I’ve only heard him mention one Brian…one of his roommates at Mayfair. It’s a common name. Entirely possibly Sophie is talking about someone else. But based on the tight clench of Caleb’s jaw, I don’t think she is.

“Okay,” Caleb answers, then finishes his sandwich in a few bites. He balls up the wrapper and tosses it at the trash can sitting about ten feet away. Makes it, of course. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” I nod and quickly stand. Between his reaction to the news about the farm and Sophie showing up, this hasn’t been the most enjoyable meal. I’d rather be outside, enjoying the fall weather.

As soon as we’re out on the sidewalk, I speak. “I thought Mayfair was a baseball camp.”

Caleb sighs. “They host soccer and football clinics too. Sophie was there with a few other girls on Clarkson’s team.”

“And you never mentioned it?”

“Back then, I didn’t think you’d ever end up at Clarkson. I didn’t think you’d ever meet Sophie.”

“So you hid it because you thought I’d never replace out?”

Caleb starts to look pissed. “Find out what, Lennon? There’s nothing to hide. Has she hit on me? Yeah. Have I done anything except make it clear to her I’m not interested? No. I thought you trusted me.”

“I do. It’s just weird that you never mentioned it. Never mentioned her.”

“You never said anything to me about that journalism guy you keep hanging out with.”

“Eric? What does he have to do with it?”

“He’s into you, Lennon.”

“He’s just friendly,” I say, annoyed he’s dragging Eric into it. Aside from Caleb, he’s the person who’s made me feel most welcome at Clarkson. Without him, I wouldn’t have even met Abby, Amanda, and Joe. Or gotten advice on journalism electives. “He’s never hit on me.”

“Oh, yeah? So he’s never asked you to hang out, just the two of you?”

I flush, recalling Eric’s suggestion after class. “That’s different. We were talking about the fellowship I told you about. It was school-related.”

“How is it different? Sophie was at Mayfair because she’s a student athlete, same as me. It was sports-related.”

“Fine.” I look away. “Forget I said anything about it.”

Caleb grabs my hand and tugs me to a stop, his annoyed expression softening. “I want you to tell me when you’re upset about things, Len. There’s nothing more terrifying than when you shut down and shut me out. It’s kind of funny, actually, that you’re jealous.”

I glare at him. “Funny?”

Instead of flinching from the warning in my voice, he smiles. “I haven’t touched another girl since the first time you kissed me. So yeah, it’s funny you’re jealous.”

“You mean since we started dating.”

“No. I mean since the first time you kissed me.”

“In high school? But that whole summer, and you were here—single—all fall…”

He shrugs. “I was in love with you, Lennon. I wasn’t interested in anyone else.”

I step closer and kiss him, the sudden rush of love so overwhelming it needs an outlet. Love is a word made up of actions.

The rest of the walk to Caleb’s truck is peaceful. We don’t argue very often. Maybe that’s because we spent the first few years of high school exclusively communicating that way. Maybe because the first few years of college only allowed limited time together, and neither of us wanted to spend it discussing anything unpleasant. This is the closest we’ve come to a fight in a while, and storms make you appreciate the calm more, when it finally arrives.

“My mom keeps bringing up Thanksgiving.” Caleb is the first to speak, once we’re headed back toward campus. “I thought she’d back out and decide to stay in New York, but she’s still leaving me voicemails about it.”

“Oh,” I reply. Thanksgiving isn’t all that far away, I suddenly realize. “Do you want to go?”

Selfishly, I’m kind of hoping he says no. Caleb’s relationship with his parents is complicated. Partly because they thoroughly disapprove of me.

“Only if you want to.”

I give him a wry smile. “I’ll go if you want to. But Cassie invited me to spend it with her family, so if you’d prefer to go alone…”

“I’m not going without you, Lennon.”

“Okay. Then let’s go.” I have no family members left due to lots of unfortunate circumstances. I don’t want Caleb losing his by choice. I’ll go and be pleasant, even if I want to hide every time Mrs. Winters looks at me. At least Caleb’s father mostly ignores my presence. “Is there skiing?”

“In Aspen?” He laughs. “Yeah.”

“I haven’t been since I was a kid. Madison’s family invited me in middle school.”

“It’ll come right back to you,” Caleb tells me.

“I doubt that. I was never that good. And don’t people break their legs skiing all the time?”

“If it happened ‘all the time’ I don’t think anyone would go. You can stay on the bunny hill. We can even get you one of those ropes little kids use if you want.”

I snort. “Well, based on how the last few interactions with your parents have gone, spending a few hours at the hospital might be more fun.”

Caleb laughs, but then turns serious. “We don’t have to go, Len.”

Guilt swirls in my stomach. “I want to go.”

“Liar.”

I smile. “I think we should go.”

I expect that to be the end of any heavy conversation. Caleb has other ideas. “About the farm…”

“It’s sold, Caleb. Done.”

“I thought you wanted to live in Landry, though.”

“That’s a big decision to make. I thought Gramps would be around for a lot longer. I got used to the idea it’s where I would stay. I was waiting to see where you ended up.” I raise a shoulder and then let it drop. “Things changed.”

“Well, I still have a farm in Landry.”

“You mean your parents do.”

Caleb shakes his head. “No. I mean I do. My grandfather left me the property in his will. As soon as I turned eighteen, it was mine. One final way to piss of my dad, probably. My parents got his townhouse in DC. Took my dad about a week to sell it.”

I picture the Winters estate, soaring columns and impeccable landscaping. Everything shiny and state-of-art and brand-new. “You own the farm?”

“Yes.”

Based on what Matthews Farm just sold for, I have a pretty good idea what the Winters estate must be worth. “Wow.”

“Tom Stradwell told me he offered you a job at the Gazette. We can move back to Landry, after graduation.”

“But what about baseball? The draft?”

“I don’t have to play, Lennon.”

“But you want to. You love baseball.”

“I love you more,” Caleb says. His words twist my insides, in both a good and a bad way.

“You don’t have to choose, Caleb. I gave the farm up to come here. I didn’t abandon a dream.”

“Didn’t you?” he replies.

I look away. In some way, I guess I did.