Left Field Love
: Chapter 40

My knee bounces nervously as I sit on the bench, waiting for Lennon. We’ve barely spoken since I drove her home last week, the day she learned she got the fellowship.

I did some research, as soon as I got back to my house after dropping her off. She was right; George Coleman is the chair.

I was more concerned with how all of the papers associated with the program are located in Boston, New York, or Los Angeles.

All cities home to professional baseball teams. Out of thirty, that gives me about a three percent chance of ending up in the same place as her.

We’ve overcome worse odds. I’d bet the number of couples who make it long distance for three years is pretty low.

But it won’t be easy.

Students start spilling out of the brick building. My knee bounces faster.

Tomorrow is the last day of finals. I’m going to New York, to attend a charity event my mom organized. Lennon is returning to Landry to stay with Cassie.

Neither of us have planned past that. Since an organized trip never came together, Colt wants to go to his folks’ lake house again. Jake is angling for a return trip to Aspen. How today goes will probably determine what I decide.

My mom invited Lennon to New York unprompted, which made me hope she really is changing her mind about us, which she managed to convince Lennon of over Thanksgiving. Lennon declined, since it’s Cassie’s birthday this weekend and she’s having a big party. And since she’s going back to Landry on Saturday, I feel like I have to do this today.

Lennon appears, talking with her friend Eric, who’s hanging on her every word. I don’t know if she actually believes he’s just extra friendly toward her instead of harboring a crush the size of Kentucky, but his interest is obvious even from this distance.

I didn’t tell her I was coming. So I’m half-expecting Lennon to pass by in the swarm of students instead of stopping. But I watch her say something to Eric and then walk this way, only stopping when she’s a foot away. He tracks her departure, only looking away when he catches me staring.

“Hi,” she says, then yawns. There are circles under her eyes, and her brown hair is knotted in a messy bun on the top of her head. She looks beautiful.

“Hey.” I stand. “Wanna go for a drive?”

Lennon eyes me carefully, obviously trying to figure out what’s going on. Weighing my mood, the same way I’m feeling her out.

The past few days are the longest we’ve gone without talking since we started dating. It’s felt weird, like I had a limb missing. But I get why she’s needed space. We both have big decisions to make and more complicated choices than most people our age.

Finally, she nods.

We join the crowd of students, walking side by side until we reach the student center parking lot, where I left my truck. I open the door for Lennon, making sure her backpack is tucked in the footwell before closing the door.

When I climb into the driver’s seat she’s tugging the elastic out of her hair, letting the long strands loose and running her fingers through the knots.

She looks over at me. “I’m sorry, Caleb. I was stressed and upset. Even if you had interfered, I know it would have been from a place of love.”

“If I had interfered, it would have meant I don’t know you at all. You’re the proudest person I know, Lennon. You think I don’t know you want to earn everything you get?”

“You threw our English final senior year,” she reminds me.

“That was different. I didn’t blackmail Mr. Tanner into giving you an A. I just didn’t write the essay. And that was partly because I was upset and distracted, not just because I wanted you to be valedictorian.”

“I turned it down.”

“What?” My hand freezes, right as I’m about to turn on the truck.

“The Fulright Fellowship. I turned it down. And not because I think it was handed to me. Because I didn’t want it. I want to apply to a bunch of papers and try writing in different departments, not have to follow a pre-determined program. And… I want to see where you get drafted before I commit to living somewhere.” She pauses, searching my face. “Are you mad I didn’t talk to you before I decided?”

“Of course not. It was your decision, Len.”

“I want things to be our decision,” she says. “With this, I was just worried you’d tell me I was walking away thinking I only got it because of you.”

I start the ignition. “I think you made the right decision.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” I pull out of the parking lot and start driving on the main road, wondering how long it will take her to figure out I’m not heading back to her dorm or my house. “How was your exam?”

“Fine.” She pauses. “After tomorrow, there’s just one semester of college left. It’s crazy.”

I nod, flicking on the stereo for some background sound. Lennon yawns again, then leans back against the seat.

As soon as I turn onto the highway, she sits up straight. “Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“Caleb. I have a final tomorrow.”

I nod. “Me too. We’ll be back by then. I promise.”

She still looks confused and uncertain, but doesn’t question me again until we’re in Landry and I continue past the turn-off for my family’s—my, technically—property.

“What the hell is going on?”

“You’ll see.”

Lennon inhales sharply, when I flip my blinker on and then turn into the driveway that leads to Matthews Farm. “We’re trespassing.”

I say nothing.

“Seriously, Caleb. This is sweet. But we can’t…” Her voice trails as we pass the barn and the farmhouse comes into view. I park in the center of the yard, overgrown with dying weeds, and climb out of the truck.

Lennon scrambles out after me a few seconds later, spinning around in a slow circle as she looks around.

“They haven’t changed anything,” she says. “I was sure…” She glances at me. “Well, I figured it would be a pile of rubble by now. The house is too small and the barn could blow down. It’d be easier to rebuild everything. I didn’t think—” Her voice catches. “I didn’t think I’d ever see it all in person again.” Lennon visibly composes herself, then turns toward me. “We should really go. This is illegal.”

I lean against the side of the truck. “You sure? Last I checked, you could do whatever you want on your own land.”

All of a sudden, I’m staring at a statue. Lennon looks at me, her face frozen in total shock. Finally, she breaks through it, glancing at the farmhouse, then me. The barn, then back to me. “You didn’t.”

I open the truck door, grabbing the piece of paper from the glove compartment and then walking over and handing it to her. “Technically, it’s your land. Still. I kept the deed in your name. And if you decide to sell it a second time, I won’t interfere.”

Lennon takes the paper, glances at it, bites her bottom lip, and then looks out toward the east pasture.

“But if we’re making decisions together, for whatever it’s worth, I think you should keep this farm.”

“For what?”

“To live on. To get married on. To raise a family on.”

She turns toward me then, raising a hand to tick fingers off. “You don’t want to live in Landry. You could get drafted anywhere in the country. This farm needs a ton of work. There’s—”

I grab her hand before she can lift another finger. “I think you rushed on selling this place, Lennon. If it’s not what you want, that’s fine. But don’t put it on me. Don’t say it’s not where I want to be. Don’t assume you have to live wherever I get drafted. And last I checked, you have plenty of money.”

“From you.” She huffs. “I never would have taken it had I known—”

“I know you wouldn’t have. That’s why I had a real estate attorney bury the sale through one of the corporations my grandfather left me, in case you looked. But it’s done. And you can undo it, if you want. But I hope you won’t. People don’t retire from professional sports at age sixty-five, Lennon. Me playing won’t be forever.

“You’ve got roots here. But so do I. Just as many. Perception is all about perspective. I didn’t have any when we were younger. Not when it came to Landry. To me, it was a town full of nosy snobs who revered the man who barely gave me the time of day if we weren’t in public. I see it differently now. I can picture our lives here. Holidays and weekends and regular days. Kids.”

I look over at Lennon, and that’s when I realize she’s crying. Ribbons of salty water streak down her face, the fading light still enough to illuminate them.

“Okay,” she says.

“Okay to what?”

“To all of it. You just described my perfect life.”

I stare at her, emotion clogging my throat.

I was worried about how this conversation might go. No matter my intentions, I went behind her back and undermined a decision she made. Best case, I thought it would take her a few days to get used to the idea. To think everything over and consider keeping the property.

“I’ve gotten estimates from a few construction companies. The farmhouse really needs to be gutted. New electric, new plumbing, new well. And all but one has suggested leveling both barns and building new. And then on the fencing it seems like—”

“Caleb.” She interrupts me.

I look over. “Yeah?”

“You know I’m in love with you, right?”

I exhale, long and low and relieved. “I know.”

“Good.”

She walks over to me, not stopping until our bodies collide. Her face gets buried in my neck, her arms wrapping around my waist.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “For telling me that and for every single thing you’ve done to show me how you meant it. Especially this.”