~ Chapter Thirty Four ~

Nick stepped into his darkened house, quietly shutting the door behind him.  The team flight from New York was supposed to arrive at Boeing Field around eleven that evening.  However, the flight had been delayed out of New York for over four hours.  It was now three in the morning and pouring down rain.  Nick's hair was dripping just from walking from the car to the house.  He could have pulled into the garage, but that would have required thinking.  Nick's brain had shut down several hours ago. 

Stacy's little Mazda was parked in the driveway, but she must have gone to bed by now.  That was all he really wanted to do - go to bed and try to forget the events of the last eighteen hours for as long as he could.  He was cold, he was so tired his eyes could barely focus, and most of all, he was still shocked at what had happened in the clubhouse in New York earlier. Why did everything always go wrong in New York? 

Inside, the house was almost balmy, compared to the temperature outside.  Stacy had done her best to recreate a sub-tropical Indian climate with Nick's heating system.  He shrugged out of his jacket, dropping it on the floor next to the door.

The lights were still on in the living room.  Nick detoured to turn them off, stopping when he found Stacy, curled up on the couch asleep, her book still lying open next to her.  She looked so innocent and peaceful lying there like that, her hair spread out across the black of the couch, one arm tucked under her head.  Her shoes were lying on the floor next to the couch, and she had pulled one of Nick's sweatshirts on over her white button-down shirt.  He reached down and carefully tugged the book away, dog-earing the page, then reached to turn off the light. 

"Nick?"  Stacy murmured sleepily.  "Where have you been?"

"I thought you were asleep." Nick whispered back, leaving the light on.

"Not really."  She sat up, shaking the sleeves of the sweatshirt down until her hands appeared, pushing her hair back from her face.  "What time is it?"

"3:17."  Nick flopped onto the couch next to her, shoving his feet up on the coffee table.  "They delayed our flight."  Stacy was wearing a gray wool knee length skirt.  She must have had another meeting at work today.  Nick stared down at her long, thin legs for a moment, idly wondering why she didn't wear skirts more often, then distracted himself with the book in his hands, flipping through the first few chapters.  "You're actually reading this?"  The pages were nothing but tiny little print.  It gave Nick a headache just looking at it.

"No," Stacy said calmly.  "I'm looking at the pictures."

Nick flipped some more.  "There aren't any." He frowned.

"Point taken." 

Nick almost smiled. He would have, if it didn't require so much energy. But, if he could still laugh over something stupid like that, maybe things weren't quite as bad as they had seemed on the flight home.  Sitting at the airport waiting had been four of the longest hours of Nick's life.  After the fighting in the clubhouse, the team had divided down the middle in a sense.  There were those who were on Kevin's side, mad that Brian hadn't said anything, and there were those who were on Brian' side.  By the time the game was over, and they were sitting in the airport waiting room, the tension could have been cut with a knife. 

Kevin had sat stonily the entire time, talking to no one.  Brian hadn't said a whole lot either.  AJ had attached himself to Brian's side at about the two hour point, and sat and babbled about anything and everything that came into his twisted little head.  Before AJ had sat down, most of the team had been avoiding Brian.  Nick felt bad about that one.  He knew he was Brian's friend, but he had no idea what to say to him.  Things had lightened up a little after AJ started a running monologue on the fans in New York, vending machines in men's restrooms and the fact that he really didn't like the pants he was wearing, in that order. 

"You okay?"  Stacy slipped one arm around his shoulders and kissed him on the jaw. 

"Uh-huh."  Nick didn't feel like going into any of it right now.  He'd tell her everything later. "I'm gonna go to bed."  He added, grabbing her hand and pulling her up with him. 

Her arm slipped back around his waist as they headed down the hallway.  Nick impulsively turned and hugged her as tight as he could. This was what he hated most, the way reality smacked him without any warning.  His life was spiraling out of control again, and he couldn't do anything about it.

"You sure you're okay?"  Stacy reached up and pushed his hair back from his forehead. 

"Yeah."  Nick managed a small smile as he sank down onto the bed.  "Just the two by four of reality hitting me upside the head.  I'll be okay."

Stacy shook her head in amusement at his analogy, ruffled his hair with her hand and disappeared into the bathroom.

Nick kicked his shoes off, threw his shirt and pants on the floor and crawled under the covers, pulling them up over his head in an attempt to finally warm up. 

"Is someone cold?"  Stacy pulled the covers off his head and peered down at him.  Nick opened one eye.  She was just wearing the sweatshirt now. 

"Yeah."  He affirmed, grabbing her arm before she headed for the thermostat again.  "Leave the heat alone - how do you afford your heating bill, anyway?"

"I sacrifice."  Stacy wrinkled her nose at him.  "I buy generic peanut butter."  Nick had complained on several occasions that Stacy needed Skippy in her kitchen.  There was a difference between it and the store brand that only he could taste and Stacy loved to bring it up every chance she got. 

Nick did laugh this time.  What was it that people said about if you couldn't cry, you laughed?  He couldn't remember.  It didn't matter.  All he wanted to do now was go to sleep.  He moved over and snuggled up next to Stacy, resting his head on her chest and closing his eyes.  The last thing he remembered was listening to her heartbeat before he drifted off.

~*~

The theme music that had been played on Mariners radio for the last seven years cued in after the commercial, running through a couple bars before the voice of Dave Niehaus began speaking. 

"Today's guest on the pre-game show is second baseman Brian Littrell.  Brian, you've been on this show many times before over the course of the season, but not under these circumstances.  I have to say,  I think pretty much anyone following the Mariners was shocked by the news in yesterday's New York Times.  I know I was, and so was the rest of the team."

"Actually, I was kind of shocked too."  Brian sounded the same as he always did.  The southern accent, the tone of his voice - it was obvious he was smiling just from listening to him. Brian always sounded as if being on the pre-game show was the most excitement that had happened to him in years.  "I wasn't quite ready for this to come out to the media yet, but it's done with now.  Can't really go back."

"For those who haven't heard the news yet... Brian was diagnosed a few days ago with a malignant brain tumor."

"It was actually diagnosed last December."  Brian corrected gently.  "And I found out... it was the end of August, if my memory serves me correctly, that it's spreading."

"So how does this affect your playing time?" 

"It doesn't."

"You're not going to be..."

"It's inoperable... and any chemo or radiation... they're not sure how much good that would do.  So I'm holding off right now, at least until the end of the season."  Brian laughed.  "Which will be mid October, of course!"

Niehaus laughed too.  "That's what we're hoping for!  Brian, I know you're going to get asked this a lot in the next month, but - is this going to affect the mental side of the team?"

"I hope not."  Brian's voice turned serious.  "That was exactly what I didn't want to do.  The last thing we need right now is something like this coming up.  I'm not a big media person you know, I leave that stuff to AJ and Nick.  I really don't want to make a big deal out of this.  I didn't want to begin with, but someone let it leak out." Brian paused for a moment.  "It's a little suspect, right in the middle of the stretch drive like this, but I'm not gonna point fingers."

"You think the Mariners might want to play this up for the publicity?"

"They can do whatever they want.  It's my life - and I'm not going to do that.  I have one thing on my mind right now, and that's winning the division."

"Let's talk about the team for a minute."  Niehaus had always been very professional about keeping the interviews on a strictly baseball basis, and today was no exception.  "You guys are a half game back of the A's."

"Hopefully that's gonna change tonight!"  The smile was back in Brian's voice.  "If we keep playing the way we have been the last couple weeks... I don't think there's too much to worry about."

"There's been some talk floating around about Howie Dorough being a candidate for most valuable player."

"Amen to that.  I think he deserves it.  He's having a great year... Howie's kind of left out of the spotlight most of the time.  He deserves the credit he's getting."

"Before we run out of time - your call on the division series matchups?  Or will that jinx it?"

Brian laughed again, something between a laugh and a giggle.  He and Becky laughed the same way.  "I say Mariners and BlueJays and Yankees - White Sox."

"We have you on tape saying this, you know."

"Aw, man, y'all are gonna hold me to this?  Can I change... nah, I think it's gonna come out that way.  We'll see if I'm right."

"Brian, as always, it's a pleasure to have you on the show, it's been nice talking to you, and might I speak on the behalf of fans all over the Northwest when I say that our thoughts and prayers are with you."